Dr. Ray Earle Peters, Jr., 78, born Oct. 3, 1945, in Richmond, Virginia, passed away Sept. 10, 2024, at his home in Poplar Bluff, Missouri, surrounded by family and loved ones, due to complications from ALS.
Raised in Pittsfield, he later attended the University of Illinois, where he met his first wife Eva. Ray joined the Navy, married his sweetheart, and the young family moved to Naples, Italy, where he was stationed as a medical corpsman. Ray adored the country, and for the rest of his life, he believed that he spoke Italian better than he actually did.
Ray and Eva returned to the states with brand new baby Christopher John in tow so that Ray could attend medical school at the Chicago College of Osteopathic Medicine. He continued his studies in Oklahoma and at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas, and then began practicing as a DO in St. Louis, Missouri, when his daughter Kimberly came along.
In 1991, he and his family moved to Poplar Bluff, which became his adopted hometown. He grew to know the community, and he would strike up conversations all around town. Generous with his time and resources, Dr. Peters celebrated the people of Poplar Bluff. Friends felt like his was their second family, and Ray cherished and loved his family deeply.
When Ray loved, he loved all the way. That deep love was not blunted by the untimely loss of Eva. The family experienced the depths of powerful grief, but with the love of Patty and the Gregory clan, they were able to rebuild after the tumult. Patty, her son, Clinton Joseph, and the Gregory Family, brought warmth and vibrancy to their home once again, and the new, blended family was a joyous and welcome adventure for all.
His presence at family gatherings was often noted by his voluminous snoring. It’s well known that he could fall asleep faster than most. Once he fell asleep while hunting turkey, and—surprisingly—his apnea didn’t scare away the birds, though he did snore through his chance to bag one. He didn’t let that bother him. Ray was not a big complainer, though he could sometimes be stubborn or challenging, like when he took up motorcycle riding at age 60. He held a deep appreciation for the outdoors, whether it was going for a ride, hunting, walking in the woods, or just taking his beloved dogs for a stroll.
For the entirety of his career, Dr. Peters carried a deep devotion to his profession and patients. He worked unceasingly to improve his abilities and hone his skills over the course of his storied career. And because Ray also believed in the healing power of laughter, he was constantly refining bits with his patients. He was known to say, “Doctor is my stage name. Just call me Ray.”
It wasn’t uncommon for Dr. Peters to welcome patients awaiting prostate exams with a lilting, “Who’s next?” while waving to them wearing an oversize gorilla hand. He had a mischievous laugh and enjoyed getting a rise out of others, especially children. Kids loved him because he was a big kid himself. Ray was a goof, and like many of the finer things in life, his sense of humor was an acquired taste. Famous for mis-timed and inappropriate jokes, many found him funny, if not always in the way he intended.
Ray was an artist when it came to composing or forwarding emails, a confluence of his strengths: awkward dad humor, an unsuspecting audience, and cutting edge late 90s technology. He enjoyed sharing with others what he found interesting. He could talk to a stranger about anything and wasn’t afraid to ask questions. He always sought to learn more, often leading to long conversations that might span the whole of human history.
Bad with time, or chronically time blind, Ray was not a planner, though he loved to travel. Four years in the Navy had sparked in him this lifelong passion. More often than not, he was winging it, making decisions on the spur of the moment. And while he was a fanatic for driving, this spontaneous attitude made the man difficult to follow by car. Ray was always in motion, and his mind never stopped racing. Learning brought him joy.
Ray was a voracious reader. As a kid, he retreated to read in the family’s lone bathroom so much, his family joked that if they’d have had more than one bathroom in the home, they’d have had more than one doctor in the family. His fervor for reading made Ray extraordinarily knowledgeable—though he was terrible with pop culture trivia—and this encyclopedic awareness of an array of subjects was reflected in his personality.
Ray was well known for his hobbies and whims, finished and unfinished: going SCUBA diving, building his kit car, obtaining his pilot’s license, and firing off canons with George, among countless other schemes (some less dangerous than others). He loved starting, but not maintaining, gardens. Ray loved to start things in general, like brewing soda, beer, and wine; growing mushrooms; collecting guns and historic arms; building siege weapons; writing a book; building his own sailboat; and the innumerable collections of other things he wanted to share with those he loved.
Ray most definitely had a deep adoration for life.
He will be deeply missed by those that survive him: his wife, Patty; his son, Chris (Gwen), of Dripping Springs, Texas; his daughter, Kim (Corey Porter), of St. Louis, Missouri; his stepson, Clinton Giebel; grandchildren, Julia, Henri, Estelle; siblings, Phyllis, Eric, Ted; mother in-law, Bacha; the Gregory clan, and many nieces, nephews, cousins, and friends.
Ray is preceded in death by his father, Ray; mother, Helen; wife, Eva, and infant daughter.
Service Information
Visitation will be held from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. Thursday, Sept. 19, 2024, at First Baptist Church of Poplar Bluff, with a funeral service following at 1 p.m. with Pastor Brandon Spain officiating. There will be no burial ceremony.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the ALS Association, local UCAN, or Robert’s Adventure Playground Fund (through the Community Foundation of the Ozarks).
Cotrell Willow Ridge Funeral & Cremation Services is honored to serve the family and friends of Ray Peters.
Online condolences can be made at www.cwrfcs.com.