Some six years later, on November 21, 1977, in Madison Square Garden, I would have the opportunity to show Peter Maivia my gratitude.  I was the W.W.W.F. champion, and would be defending my World title against the soft-spoken Samoan. By this time he had become High Chief, a great honor for only a select few individuals.  He had an enormous tattoo from mid-chest to his knees to prove it.  I asked him how long it took for a tattoo to be put on a full one-half of his body and he said "Brutha, it takes six months.  But I told them I only have three days on the island, and if they want to make me chief, that's how much time they have."  So, they did it in just three days.  So much ink went in to his body that he developed an infection that almost killed him.

Before our match, the High Chief came over to the heel side and sat down next to me.  He asked me what I wanted to do out there.  It's kind of funny in a way, but I remember feeling almost humbled that Peter Maivia was asking me what I wanted to do out there.  I suppose it was because I had so much respect and love for this man.  I told him that tonight's match was on me, and it's whatever he wanted to do.  So, I went out there, climbed inside of that ring and did everything I could within my limited ability to make the High Chief look like a World champion.  I took every bump for him that I was capable of taking, I over-sold every move he made on me.  I gave him everything I possibly could give him in that match.  The only thing I couldn't give him on that night was my belt.  But when the fans in Madison Square Garden left the building, they had no doubt as to who the better man was...and it definitely wasn't me!  That was the least I could do.

The last time I spoke to my dear friend Peter Maivia was on a hot June night in Phoenix.  I was laying on the grass in the front yard of my apartment, Peter was laying in a hospital bed in Hawaii.  I can still hear his last words to me.  In between coughing he said, "Brotha, I'm not feeling too good."  Another couple of coughs, and his wife Lea took the phone.  Two days later on June 13, 1982, High Chief Peter Maivia passed away at the age of 47.

Some people you can never forget.