Actor Pete Renaday, born Pierre Renoudet, died last week after just turning 89 years old.  When word spread about his passing, most people know him through his voice work for cartoons, video games and Disney theme park rides.  However, he acted all of his life on stage, in television and films including a recurring role on “General Hospital.”

I got to know Pete through my brother Greg.  The two of them worked together at Disney Studios in the 1970’s.

One of the benefits of being the younger brother is getting introduced to your big brother’s buddies.  Of all the interesting artistic people Greg introduced me to when I was a teenager, from cartoonists to comic book collectors, Pete was the one known by his first name; the others—Foster, Spicer—only by their last.  And for me, he was the most special of my brothers’ friends.

While over the course of five decades I only spent a short amount of time with Pete, every visit meant time spent with a quick-witted man with a wink in his eye, and an Orson Welles’ worthy voice weighted with authority.  My brother used to have game nights with his pals, and he’d invite me as well.  I felt special that Greg invited me to these gatherings.  Though I was the youngest, I appreciated the jokes and conversation that made those nights so much fun.

The last time I saw Pete was with my brother for a lunch in a coffee shop a few years back.  Though his body aged, his mind remained sharp.

Last year when I digitized all my reel-to-reel audio tapes, I heard for the first time in decades a recording Pete made for me.  When I was a teen, I wrote dozens of short stories in the vein of Rod Serling.  I shared one with Pete who thought it would make for a good radio play.

Using high-end equipment in his apartment, he produced a 16-minute version of one of my stories with music and sound effects—professionally done.  It demonstrated the level of professionalism Pete employed no matter if it was narrating a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle character, the Mark Twain ride at Disneyland, playing Henry Higgins in a local theatrical production of “My Fair Lady,” or recording an unpublished work by his friend’s younger brother.

He also graciously appeared in a few of my short films I made.  His appearances elevated those Super 8 productions.

I thought about inviting Pete over to my house so I could play for him again those films and the radio show, but unfortunately it never happened.  He was really my brother’s friend, and I felt awkward initiating something on my own.

I’m lucky I knew Pete.  He brightened my life, and he will be missed.