If I had to describe Peter in just one word, it would be present. Whether we were in a deep conversation or just sharing a quiet moment, he had a way of making you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be. I think this is a Brooks trait, as my dad, his brother, also has that gift. I am still working on it… 

Now, I’m sure others will speak about how brilliant, curious, quick-witted and hilarious Peter was - and they’ll be absolutely correct. But there’s another truly remarkable trait of his that I think deserves its own spotlight: 

Peter could NAP anywhere. Anytime.

On a random museum bench. Mid-discussion about where to get dessert. After a dance with his mother. If Peter needed a nap, the world paused, and he made it happen. It was a kind of superpower.

Peter and I also had a running debate about cycling. I’m not the most confident rider- I prefer indoor spinning, where there’s rhythm but no risk of falling, no traffic, no chaos. But Peter loved the unpredictability of the road, the adventure of it. We’d go back and forth, debating spinning vs. cycling. And of course, I lost.

Peter didn’t just win the argument - he proved his point by taking me on a real bike ride across New York City. It was exhilarating. And terrifying. And it remains one of my proudest accomplishments - one I will absolutely never attempt again. But I did it because I lost a debate to Peter. And because when he believed in something, you couldn’t help but get pulled in.

Even though we didn’t live in the same city, Peter had a way of making me feel completely welcomed - always part of the inner circle, never on the outside.

When Peter met the love of his life, he became completely devoted to his family. He poured himself into learning how to best support Deb and their daughters - asking questions, doing research, always seeking to be better. When I visited New York, my favorite moments were sitting around the table with the Brooks-Pope family, debating the impact of technology, politics, or whatever the topic of the day was. He had such a deep love and admiration for his family, it was clear how much they lifted him up. 

He once sent me this email, around 20 years ago, in response to me visiting them:

“Dom and Becca can go off and play games, and you and Abby and Deb can talk about, like, whatever you talk about. And I can, well… nap.”

We miss him terribly. But we carry him with us, in every quiet moment, in every curious question and in every well-earned nap.

Once 

upon the shores of Staten Island

When Deb married Peter, and Peter married Deb

A miraculous merger happened here

Noble young man joining forces with Popes

To Lillie and Martin, the parents,

To me, Mim, Deb’s older sister 

To my sons Danny and Raf growing up and later to their wives Felicia and Larisa,

We were gifted

A personal, customized, 24/7 Renaissance Guardian Angel,

You may have seen him flying around in the neighb

The Jolly green Jeni 

With suspenders….

Glasses and 

Wings…sometimes on a bicycle…always smiling whistling a happy tune..

He had a Unique Glow 

Hands, heart and patience, full and extended to us

As needed for the next quest in question

By Lillie for her ongoing never ending  archival projects…

As needed By  Martin

For BIG TIME scientific Mathematical Digital  theoretical Solutions 

There to see in second edition of his  treatise on Electronic Processes 

Yet magically, ever present for all other digital, medical, food, delight, life saving orders for Martin and me and my sons 

always, always, 

Appearing, rescuing, providing as needed

To my joy we were a  match for a particular humor

Which allowed us non drug induced flights of verbal fancy resulting in a natural high

Leaving the real world eons behind

Beyond his life saving presence

Were the

the gifts for us

Bright eyed and bushy tailed

in his utter passion for life 

And his joy in bringing us along on the ride 

New Adventures  

Sharing His beloved

Poems

Short stories

Music

Drama

Animation cinema

Soirees

Countless yarns  he would spin

Of youthful antics 

And exciting forays

Such mirth 

In the recounting

We needed encores

Part of us has gone with this beautiful prince

The world does not spin as it did before

craters of pain  

disbelief heavy

Yet 

Peter’s after glow remains,

For each one of us

Sweet memories of immeasurable treasures

Thanks Deb, 

What a guy

Amen!’

I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a form of cancer, a few years ago, and Peter sent me a thoughtful email about a talk he gave on the importance of understanding probability in the context of severe disease diagnosis. And I quote Peter's answer, "I was asked to give a talk on my choice of topic to a select group of math teachers. I chose to speak about the time in a person's life between a first diagnosis of a severe disease and the time of subsequent confirmation or not. This turns out to be a very important and surprising probability problem. The statistics are often misinterpreted and unnecessarily upsetting."

That's exactly how I felt when I first got diagnosed--unnecessarily upset. But now, I continue to be in remission and live a healthy and wonderful life today.

Peter had a great sense of humor and a curious mind. When I asked him via email if his computer was still working, he said, "Not so fast. Reports of the death of my laptop are greatly exaggerated. It's happily ensconced on a shelf in front of me, ready at any time to leap into action."

He was also a passionate educator, dedicated to his work at Stuyvesant High School teaching math and computer science. His enthusiasm for teaching and his ability to make complex subjects accessible to students was evident in every interaction. Peter's love for learning and sharing knowledge extended beyond the classroom.

He often recommended interesting podcasts and videos, always eager to engage in meaningful conversations and expand his horizons.

Above all, Peter was a caring and supportive uncle. He always took the time to listen, offer advice, and share his experiences. His thoughtful messages and the love he showed to his family will always be remembered and cherished.

Like me, Peter has a love and passion for cycling. For years, we had talked about, dreamed about, going on a bicycle tour through Europe together. Unfortunately, it never happened with him, but earlier this summer, his brother, also known as my dad, and I went on a bicycle tour through the island of Sardinia together in his honor. I'm happy to show a few short clips from that journey here (STAY TUNED).

His work actually affected my life in even greater ways than that; the very reason my friends and I resolved to attend Stuyvesant was because of his StuyHack Hackathon! We went on to win StuyHacks XI as Stuyvesant students, something that is one of the peaks of my Stuyvesant

years.

You might be delighted to hear that I ended up continuing the tradition he fostered – I was one of the key organizers for STuyHacks XII, the revival of StuyHacks after Mr. Brooks' retirement led to its hiatus. A new generation of students is preparing to carry the torch I passed onward!

I cannot say it enough, so I will say it again: thank you! You and Mr. Brooks have my undying gratitude.

Sincerely,

David Chen

As children, he was three years older—a substantial difference at a young age—and he was not particularly fond of me, but he did tolerate me. I was more of a pest, and I kind of enjoyed that.

We began to like each other more as teenagers. Our parents would meet weekly for card parties—a Hungarian tradition with a close-knit group of friends who had immigrated to the United States in the early 60’s. There were about 6–8 kids who didn’t have much in common except a ping pong table, tennis courts, and a pool at a park.I first gained Peter’s attention when I beat him at ping pong. This was both humiliating for him and a challenge that put me in his crosshairs.

In high school, I became a pretty good runner, and running a 9:27 two-mile and a 2:45 marathon was the clincher that catapulted me up the respect ladder to Peter. It was definitely not my academics.

In college, I was a sociology major with a leftist bent. Peter enrolled at the New School around my last year in college, and when I told him I wanted to continue studying sociology, he said the New School was the place to go—and he encouraged me to come to New York.

So, in 1976, I got accepted to the New School and started on a road I would not have taken but for Peter. The New School was great, but we had few overlapping courses—he was an economics major. Still, we were both thrilled with New York City. It was a rowdy and wonderful time.Peter was heavily into computer programming then and was able to make a sustainable living at it. I was a part-time waiter, data entry operator (a job Peter got me), and taxi driver, supporting my way through school.

Peter became a kind of de facto mentor to me. We would go to museums, have walking tours, and take bike rides all over the city. There was no intellectual competition between us—he was in a class by himself—and it was always interesting to be with him. He would lecture, and I would listen.

Peter’s view of the world was inquisitive and critical. I learned that when talking to him, he did not suffer clichés or political correctness (except for when he pronounced Nicaragua as Nic-Ar-Agua, slowly and with the proper Spanish accent!). I always cracked up when he did that because he was so serious.

I learned that when talking to Peter, you first had to make sure that if you made a statement, you understood what you were saying and were prepared to defend it. Do you know what you are talking about? The second part was: Is the statement true? What are the implications? He would lead you down an intellectual roadmap. “Not so fast,” he would say! Then he would dissect you live, with no anesthesia. The decision to get a lung transplant was, first and foremost, a brave decision. Peter was a risk-taker and he loved probability theory. He believed in science and education as the way forward, and was not a fan of faith or religion—but that is not to say he was not spiritual. He found his niche in teaching, and it truly was his calling. I remember him fondly, and especially when I have to make a hard decision, I think: What would Peter do?

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2025 Peter Brooks CS for Social Good Prize Winner

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Slipknot Homepage

Slipknot User Reviews

Here's where you can take a deeper dive into SlipKnot for which Peter won a major award. It was one of the first world wide web browsers and allowed everyday users access to the internet without fancy equipment when the web was in its infancy. FYI: this is what Peter looked like when he did this work.

We hope you can savor your time with this material. As you will see, we’ve tried to reflect as much of Peter as we could, but it’s an impossible task to do him justice.

NOTE: The background for this page comes from an exercise Peter created for himself in 1978. His premise, or motivating questions was: “What, if anything, is the perspective view of an ellipse?" He then laid out his approach, “The problem can be visually attacked by 3 different methods: Geometric, Algebraic, and Linear Algebraic." Peter filled 13 pages with his solutions. In the middle of the 14th page there is only one sentence, “See, wasn’t that trivial?” It’s very Peter.

When I was in high school, I did an oral history project that recorded his memory of his experience as a refugee. Just as he was proud of his parents, I too am a proud inheritor of his family’s incredible story, which I am going to read to you now in an abridged version, in his voice (see link)

...

Doing this project with my dad brought us closer together, and it is a shared experience that meant a lot to me. His family’s legacy of resilience, bravery, and triumph is a part of him that I will always carry. He didn’t just pass down a history though; he shaped me into who I am today with the wisdom, staunch intellect, and open optimism that this experience forged in him. I miss my dad, and know that my life will never be the same without him in it.

We were a team, best friends and sweethearts, and among many other things, found great happiness in parenting together. With the guidance of our incredible daughters (Abigail and Rebecca) we  created a wonderful family. It was a joy to know he’d be coming home to us everyday so we could hear his report, he could adjudicate Ab and Bec’s complaints. And we could continue our conversation.

I loved him when he was strong and when he was weak, happy or sad, right or pig-headed and he made sure to let me know he felt the same about me. When ill health robbed us of our hope and humor and drove us into bouts of insanity, no matter how bad the storm, and there were bad storms, when the howling winds quieted, we were still together, holding hands. 

I was so proud that Peter chose to spend his life with me, and grateful that he wanted me to spend mine with him, through thick and thin.

I won’t  try to describe what losing him means to me but I will say that his death hasn’t ended our conversation. I hear his opinions, his jokes, his reassurance and his advice all the time, and I know I always will.

Thank you for being here, for being part of Peter’s life and ours, and for continuing the struggle to make the world a better place despite the flood of people who are trying to push us downward.

For me there is so much more to learn about Peter's imprint on the world and his people.

A few things I do know but did not say in the earlier thoughts.

We know that Peter means Rock. and many of you know that Deb's family were rock collectors. Whenever we found the special ones, our parents would rejoice and regale us with praise.

The quest was long, but the wait yielded

TREASURE:

Deb found the RAREST and most PRECIOUS ROCK of all in PETER,

and Peter found HIS OWN TRUE LOVE and WIT, in DEB, rocks included.

As Deb speaks of her continued time with Peter, I see Peter's time with all of us proves the maxim-

A rolling stone gathers no moss, and that is Peter still, no stopping his presence as he rolls along with us, even, AS JOCELYN shares, while NAPPING.

My parents, David and Rachel, are dear friends of Peter and Deb, and my sister and I are close in age to Abby and Becca. Peter is there in lots of my childhood memories: burgers on the grill, birthday parties, bat mitzvahs.

I went to high school on 7th Ave near the Pope-Brooks residence. Like many moody teens circa 2011, I almost perpetually had my iPod in my hoodie pocket and my wired earphones in. I don't know how to sing, and I don't sing in front of other people, but I still love to sing when I'm alone. I never had the nerve to sing out in public, but sometimes walking around NYC, I would be so bold as to hum my heart out along to the music in my ears.

That is exactly what I was doing when I nearly collided with Peter Brooks on the sidewalk. I pulled my earphones out to say hello, and Peter was smiling with that wonderful twinkle in his eye as he said to me, "You know, that is something I love about New York City. I love that people feel the freedom here to hum or sing or whistle as they walk down the streets. You don't hear that anywhere else the way you do in New York." Of course, I am paraphrasing, because the way Peter said it, it was an entire poetic anecdote that would've been fit for publication verbatim. I regret not being able to recall his exact words; there was part of a story in there, and I think the word "symphony" was involved, and probably a mathematical metaphor.

But I just would like it to be known: I am now 28 years old. The heavy-as-a-brick iPod Classic in space gray is now obsolete, and earphones don't need those wires anymore, but you can still catch me more days than not walking around NYC humming along to my music as loud and proud as I please. And absolutely every single time I begin to hum, just for a second, I smile and I think of Peter.

He may no longer be with us as he once was, but I am one of so many people who remembers Peter in ways like this. I just know the twinkle it puts in my eye must look the same as his that sunny Autumn day in Brooklyn some 15 or 16 years ago.

Love,

Adira* Koosis

*still known to some as Emma, Em, or Emmy

We three met through the Internet and spent a lot of time surfing the web and sharing things that interested us... which were A LOT of things, as it happened. I guess this is embedded in my mind as a permanent feature and so I offer this in continuation of Peter's memory:

Unpicking How to Measure the Complexity of Knots -- as addressed by two mathematicians, from a WIRED article.