I met Peter Martin at his first-floor condo on another humid day in the heart of Newport. It didn’t take long to see that Peter set himself up thoughtfully for this stage in life. At 84, Peter is surrounded by memories–just steps away from the neighborhood where he grew up and the school he once attended, La Salle. “Up the street and around the corner–class of ‘59,” he said with a smile. As he showed me his comfortable, well-planned home it was clear that he enjoys living fully. Today. In this moment.
A big part of that living includes music. In a tucked-away room sits a piano. It’s an airy space where Peter still practices, “because there’s always room to get better.”
When we sat down I asked him at this stage in life does it feel like he’s winding down?
“I’m winding up,” he replied without hesitation. “If life is four quarters, I’m in overtime.”
For Peter, like many older adults his age, he has outlived a lot of people–but that hasn’t slowed him down. As he checked his step counter, he added with a smile, “I walk two miles a day. Yesterday, I walked three.”
He grew up on Hammond Street in Newport. “I’m blessed to be back in the Fifth Ward in the neighborhood where I grew up. I walk up the street I grew up on, and time took a lot of the people I knew away–but the houses are still there. That’s very comforting to me.”
Does he enjoy walking?. “I don’t love it,” he admitted, “ but it keeps me going.” Living where I do makes it easy for neighbors and friends to stop by and say hello.”
Serving and bringing joy to others is nothing new for Peter. He’s had a rich and full life–six years as a Rhode Island legislator, a career in real estate holdings, and time spent as secretary of the planning board. These days, you’ll still find Peter sharing his gifts in a more personal way–playing piano in the lobby of the Newport Hospital.
“I play at the hospital I was born in, it saved my life two and a half years ago,” he said. Playing there means a lot to me. It makes me grateful for my health and grateful to be alive.”
His path to playing at the Newport Hospital wasn’t planned–but it felt meant to be. “I told a close friend I wanted to play a real wood and wire piano,” Peter recalled. With her encouragement, he started at the Edward King House. But it was the grand piano in the hospital lobby that caught his eye. So, he stopped by, and before long, found himself volunteering.
“The head of hospital volunteers told me to play while she stepped out. I played for an hour–and she never came back,” he said with a smile. “Turns out she was listening.”
So were others–families, patients, passersby. The music made its way through the lobby of the hospital, offering comfort and small moments of joy, as music often does. “I was hired on the spot.”
Peter has a quiet knack for making breakthroughs–sometimes with melody, other times with something much bigger. It may be part of how he brings a cadence of harmony to his own life and to the lives of those he touches.
During our conversation, Peter showed me a photo of himself at the State House. Among his proudest moments, he recalled the successful push for the posthumous pardon of John Gordon–the last man hanged in Rhode Island in 1845, long believed to be innocent. “My dad told me about him when I was eight,” Peter said. Years later, he attended a play about Gordon’s life and was moved to act. He introduced a resolution which led to Governor Chafee issuing an official pardon in 2011. “It meant a lot to me,” Peter reflected, “to help make something right–even when it was long overdue.”
Making things right has always guided Peter. These days, playing music at the hospital–and continuing to improve–is his way of doing just that for those who hear it.
It was seven years ago that the Newport Hospital welcomed Peter as a volunteer. What started as a once-a-week gig became something more. He now plays every weekday from 12:30 to 3:30 p.m., with a quick break for lunch, a rhythm that brings him both joy and purpose.
Peter still carries the same pages of sheet music he’s had since he was a teenager–tucked into one of the eight books of music he brings with him to the hospital. He starts each session with “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It’s the first song he plays each day. “People come up all the time to thank me for playing,” he said. He believes it’s because, for a moment, the music helps them forget why they’re there–or what they’re going through. “It’s one of the most rewarding parts. It gives them a little peace. That’s what makes it all worth it.”
What brings Peter joy on an ordinary day is simple: being alive. Alive, and truly living.
When asked what he hopes to be remembered for, he paused. “In high school, people in my graduating class said I was the class good guy. I want to be remembered that way.”
There’s no doubt. Peter’s humble legacy as a good guy, in word and action, is one that will live on for generations to come. And that, in itself, is a quiet way of making things right.
Helen Hames is an Aging Advisor and Founder of Age Ambassador. Just as people turn to legal or financial advisors, she believes older adults and their families deserve trusted guidance through the complex web of decisions that come with aging. Whether planning to age at home or transition to a community, she helps people clarify what matters most and move forward with confidence. Helen was named 2025 Senior Champion of the year for her advocacy and personalized support of older adults.