Peter G. Engelman, a certified public accountant, author, and longtime congregant at Beth El Congregation in Baltimore, died on July 2 at age 85. He was remembered by family and friends as a quiet and principled man who found meaning in learning, prayer and the constancy of family life.

Born in London in 1940, Engelman’s earliest months were shaped by war. His parents, Paul and Doris Engelman, fled Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia with Peter’s grandmother, finding temporary refuge in England during the London Blitz. “They were in bomb shelters in the evenings because there were nightly bombings,” said his daughter, Linda Engelman. “So, my dad’s early start to life was pretty traumatic.”

Later that year, the family immigrated to the United States, first landing in rural Oklahoma with the help of relatives before settling permanently in Baltimore. Pete grew up with his younger brother, Jerry, in a household that was both nurturing and marked by loss. Most of the extended family had perished during the Holocaust. “They did a lot of talking about the Holocaust and what had happened because most of their family died,” Linda Engelman said. “So, there was a lot of trauma around being Jewish.”

Their father, who was once a lawyer in Czechoslovakia, could not practice in America and instead opened Kiddie-Land, a popular downtown Baltimore toy store where Pete worked as a child. Their mother, formerly a teacher, remained at home to care for the family.

Engelman graduated from Baltimore City College High School in 1957 and earned a degree in accounting from the University of Baltimore. He began his career as a field agent for the Internal Revenue Service before moving into private practice. Over the next four decades, he built a reputation for diligence and integrity, working with clients in fields such as medicine, real estate and manufacturing. He also taught accounting at the college level.

“Pete was always very hardworking,” said his wife, Sandy Engelman. “He always took his job as a CPA very seriously and set a wonderful example for our children and grandchildren.”

After retiring in 2001, Engelman devoted himself to creative work. He founded Terumah — a small publishing company named for the Hebrew word meaning “offering” — and authored eight books spanning poetry, memoir, Jewish spirituality and community life.

Among them was “The Minyanaires,” based on interviews with clergy and regular attendees of the morning minyan at Beth El.

“He interviewed people who had lost loved ones and came to the services regularly to find out what the minyan was about — whether they were coming for the service, or the bagel afterward, or for something deeper,” Sandy Engelman said.

Engelman not only attended the daily minyan but, in time, led services and shiva minyanim for others in mourning. “After his mother died, he was going to morning minyan every morning,” Linda Engelman said. “He met a good group of friends, and even after the 30 days were up, he continued to go. Eventually, he led the service, the morning minyan, for a long time.”

He also had a playful side: he loved performing magic and joined a local club dedicated to sleight-of-hand tricks. “He had a lot of hobbies,” Linda Engelman said.

Personal loss marked chapters of his life. His son Steven died of lung cancer at age 39. His other son, Gary, died at 55. “He went through a lot,” Linda Engelman said.

Through it all, he remained a steady presence in his grandchildren’s lives. “We were very instrumental in raising them,” Sandy Engelman said. “Thank God they turned out to be wonderful young men.”

Pete and Sandy had first dated as teenagers, then reconnected decades later after both had married and raised children with other partners. “We both married other people, and it wasn’t until years later that we found each other again,” Sandy said. “I always said I had the Brady Bunch — but without the Alice.” Together, they built a blended family of five children.

Family was the center of Engelman’s life. “He was very giving, very honest, very loyal,” Linda Engelman said.

Sandy recalled a favorite memory: “He would take the grandchildren to the dollar store and tell them they could get anything they wanted. They thought he was the most wonderful person in the world. They didn’t know everything was a dollar.”

In his final years, Engelman faced Alzheimer’s with quiet resilience, supported by the family he helped raise and the community he helped sustain. His presence is still felt at Beth El’s morning minyan, where his voice once led others in prayer.

“He set a wonderful example for our children and grandchildren,” Sandy Engelman said. “With everything we’ve been through in our lifetime, we were very lucky and very blessed.”

Ellen Braunstein is a freelance writer.