I’m so sorry to hear about Mr. Pendergast’s passing. Please accept my sympathies, May he Rest In Peace.

Bob please give me a call or send me a text to let me know you are alright please.

— Debbie Flower Fountas

We enjoyed hiking these later years with Butch as he went looking for a "butt rock" where he could enjoy a banana. He served as an expert geological guide on many a hike as well as advising with a smile that it was simply a "rock." Car pool talk ranged from lively political opinions to a review of a recently-read non-fiction book. Butch was always curious about people and places and made us laugh at our own foibles, He was a life force and an incredible example of perseverance. We are blessed to have known him.
Bill and Nancy Carlson, Casual Hikers at Trilogy

I am Bob Pendergast III, Butch’s son.

Dad was enthusiastic and had a zest for life. Energetic and enterprising, he took the time to volunteer to help others. He was an avid reader and someone who believed in continuing educating throughout life. He enjoyed life to the fullest.

On a number of occasions when I would be surveying at construction sites in the Twin Cities, I would go for a beer after work with the crew. Many times, people who knew my dad would approach me and ask me if I was related to Butch Pendergast. I would say: “yes, he’s my dad,” and every time, they would offer to pay my tab.

While attending Dunwoody Technical College my Dad took on the task of teaching the soils class as the regular instructor was on maternity leave. Dad made everyone laugh when he taste-sampled the soil to identify the soil type.

One of my fondest memories was in the Spring when I heard the sound of the table saw, I knew it was time to help dad and my brother build the dock. I would de-nail piles of boards and two-by-fours, so we could construct new dock sections. When classmates of mine from Mahtomedi High School or Breck College Preparatory High School would visit our house to swim at White Bear Lake and see dad working on the dock or the boats, they would ask: “is that the handyman?” Then I would reply: “Oh no, he’s not the handyman, he’s my dad.”

Our family would go smelting every year at Cornucopia on Lake Superior. One year, in the early ‘70s, we picked our spot on the beach and started our midnight fire under the stars. All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, three not-so-sober smelter brothers approached our site. They angrily declared that they wanted to fight with our family, including their mom and grandma with clenched fists, because our dog, Deke, had urinated in their bucket of smelt. I hurried over to my dad who was in the tide dragging his net and with worry briefed him on their desired intent. Dad listened, gave me his net, calmly walked over to get our bucket of smelt, carried the bucket over to the riled smelter family and switched-out our bucket of smelt for theirs, leaving them completely speechless.

A long time ago, my dad told me that the most difficult thing he ever went through in his life was the death of his dad, Bob Sr., my Grandfather.

Now I can relate.

We the family, have received so many beautiful words of encouragement. Here is one received today . . .

Butch was a well-liked and respected man; he had many, many people who considered him a friend. Perhaps that is because he was a caring person. Butch cared about his pets, his friends, his family, his associations, the state of the governments in the US, MN, AR and PR. He cared about a lot of things, but he cared most for Jackie. Her well- being and peace of mind was always the foremost priority for him.
Every-one of his friends acknowledge he was a brilliant guy always interested in learning something new and gaining understanding or mastery of a new skill. Unlike many brilliant people, Butch was a fantastic listener. He was always interested in hearing other thoughts and opinions and was eager for meaning- full debate. His life was a journey of meeting people, befriending them and learning something new or finding something new to care about.
Butch’s pleasures and hobbies were plentiful, he had hunting friends, sailing friends, biking friends, hiking friends, and friends just interested in intellectual pursuit. All-in he had a very fulfilling life and touched many in a very positive manner. He will be missed, may he rest in peace and may the perpetual light of our savior shine on his soul.

49er Club Memorial for Robert E. “Butch” Pendergast 1936-2021
49er since 1972, Past Club President & Secretary

We take this moment to remember our friend Butch as we learned of his passing earlier this week. We mourn with Jackie and his entire family at the loss. He was the definition of a 49er. His face is the Club’s logo, shown as a prospector panning for gold.
Butch was gregarious and when he laughed it resounded around the room. He was inquisitive and would tilt his head with wonder. He was often skeptical of things like religion and politics and required empirical evidence. He was dedicated to his family. By profession he was a Civil Engineer and Geologist that built a successful business.
Many 49ers have contributed these Butch stories. I have only known Butch for 29 years, but others far longer:

Jock Ramaley, a former 49er and Butch go WAY back. Their folks were close friends and Jock, being 2 years older met Butch shortly after his birth in his cradle. They grew up together and became truly life-long friends. They attended Dartmouth together, and later on lived near each other on White Bear Lake. They took many bird hunting trips in Iowa and South Dakota over the years. Jock was cautious about hunting with Butch early on when Butch knew how to pull a cork. Butch gave it up many years ago. We laughed when I described them as “ATF” hunting trips.

Steve Harmon grew up a few doors up on Neptune St. and recalled how as a kid, he would be on the neighborhood dock next to Butch’s place and would hear a phone ring. Evidently, Butch ran a phone line to his dock and kept a phone in a retired milk box. Butch had a fire pit by the lake and would burn up steaks over a campfire regularly. Butch was an accomplished sailor on WBL and enjoyed the thrill of sailing on whitecaps. He also could be seen with a ladder in the lake when there was 10’ of open water along the shoreline, to start putting in the dock. When Steve became a 49er and met Butch again, he called him ‘Mr. Pendergast’. It was Butch from there on.

Greg Kneisl was another neighbor who married Cindy Ellman and whose father was Myron, another close friend. Butch was Greg’s 49er membership sponsor about 30 years ago. Greg shared stories of Butch opening the kitchen window of the house and shooting ducks out the window at 2 AM. His running around the neighborhood one night, evading the police and also scaring Myron and his wife in the middle of the night - in their bedroom. Greg mentioned Butch’s genealogy work to trace his ancestors back to New Hampshire, where he found a family grave site. Those Pendergasts traveled west in a wagon in the 1850’s and got as far what is now as Hutchinson, MN and, drove in stake and founded the town. Legend has it they were troubadours along the way.

Pat Hogan, who operates Forest Lawn, was able to help Butch locate a young sibling and his father who are buried there and clarify some history about the family plot in New Hampshire.

For my part Butch was a mentor. I worked in construction and would share by stories with him about restoring the world’s largest Tipi at Mystic Lake, the foundations of the IDS Center and the 33 acre brown field at St. Paul’s Union Depot. He was fascinated and would interrogate me on the particulars to make sure I was on track.

Butch and Jackie eventually sold the Pendergast property in Mahtomedi, but dismantled the red cottage and relocated it to a family island property in Hutchinson, MN. The first winter there was no heat or running water. God bless Jackie! I would ask Butch occasionally when he had to get up to paddle his canoe from the island to shore and drive to St. Paul from Hutch to attend a 49ers meeting at 7:30 AM. He said he used his old pontoon boat rather than the canoe…

After Butch retired they spent many winters on the island of Culebra off of Puerto Rico. There they had some rental units and boats for rent. Many 49ers joined them down there over the years to enjoy the island life. Eventually they relocated to Arizona where Butch became an avid biker with a power assist on his pedal bike to seek an advantage over the younger bucks.

Butch, for me, was one of the ‘Old Guard’ of 49ers, the ones who set the bar. Regretfully, he is also the ‘Last of the Mohicans’. The others are all gone now: Momsen, Horien, Wobig, Sorenson, Stockwell, Aune, Klein, Mairs, McClean, Keys, Steinwall, Pope, Thoele, Poch plus many more. As 49ers, we need to honor these great men and their legacy – and carry on the mission.

I ate breakfast with Butch hundreds of times and heard him speak probably 25 times over the years. It was always a pleasure and a growth experience.

The unique aspect of 49ers is that there is seldom an outside speaker at the weekly breakfast meeting. Rather, it is a member that speaks about his family, his business, his success, his failure. We get to know each other in very close and private ways to help each other pan for gold. The camaraderie and bonds are quite timeless and cannot be forgotten.

I figure Butch got past the Pearly Gates after some negotiations with St. Pete and would like to think the old boys get together on Cloud 49 once a week.

-Paul Nahurski

Jackie and Family, my heart goes out to all who loved Butch. He was a giant of a man who had such a zest for life and brought so much joy to many of us who knew him. His wonderful sense of humor and refreshing inquisitiveness served us all well and he was always ready to take on new challenges, whatever they might be. He was a true asset to any club or committee he joined. Butch will be greatly missed and when I think of him, it is always with a warm thought for having the privilege of knowing such a good and caring man.
Janice Taylor, Trilogy, Peoria, AZ

We will miss his curiosity and love of history and all things in nature.

Pam and I were sad to learn of Butch’s passing and that was due to the joy of knowing and interacting with him. For us, Butch was truly a “character” that always brought a smile to out faces whenever we were around him, particularly with the hiking club. As anyone in the Hiking Club knows, the scheduled hikes are as much about lunch as they are about the trail. Early on we learned that Butch loved pickles while we did not, so it became a tradition to give our pickles to him. This simple act of sharing always resulted in a huge smile and hearty laugh from Butch that would light up anyone’s day. It was clear evidence of Butch’s enjoyment of life and kind heart. While it may seem a bit silly, the mere sight of a pickle on a plate will always evoke memories of Butch for us.

Pam Noel & Bruce Maynard