Victor Harold Wheeler

January 8, 1936 ~ May 12, 2022 (age 86)




Wheeler, Victor Harold

 Jan 8, 1936 – May 12, 2022

On May 12th., 2022, after some health challenges, our good friend Victor has passed on to that great golf course in the sky, where he will join many friends who arrived before him. Victor was a friend to many and a genuinely kind and funny man, often in an irreverent and cheeky way!  

His favourite comedian was Benny Hill.  He loved listening to Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and Big Bands – all while sipping his favourite scot ch or a good red wine.

He was the bionic man – boasting one shoulder and three (!) knee replacements.

Victor’s career took many paths, starting with the Royal Air Force in England, and continuing as a navigator with the Canadian Air Force, flying in his cherished fighter jet, the Voodoo.  He then spent many years in sales, including working with the Canadian Mint, developing and promoting Olympic Coins for several Olympic Games.   Most recently, before retiring, he worked as a new home sales representative.  Home buyers never had a chance.

Many great moments were spent golfing at Whitevale Golf Club and then later at Kawartha Golf Club.

During the past four years, Victor made Extendicare Peterborough his home, where he developed many good friendships, and spent much time flirting with and harassing the staff – who took such great care of him.

Victor will be missed by his many longtime friends (too many to mention here) whom he considered his family – as well as his favourite cousin Jean and husband Geoff and their family.

Celebration of Life will be held at a later date.

Online condolences may be made through

“Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laugher-silvered wings;

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the trembling mirth

Of Sun-split clouds – and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlight silence; hovering there,

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark or even eagle flew –

And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod

The high untresspassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand and touched the Face of God.”


John Gillespie Magee Jr. (“High Flight”)


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