Peter Burgelis: How the grandson of war refugees from Latvia built a career protecting his neighbors

Late on a Friday afternoon, as most employees were finishing their workweek and heading home, an insurance salesman arrived at Robertson Ryan in downtown Milwaukee with a last-minute fire insurance policy. Rather than leave the paperwork for Monday, Peter Burgelis’ grandmother stayed to review the file and stamp it as received.

That weekend, the insured property burned to the ground. Had the policy remained untouched until Monday morning, the client would not have gotten their claim paid from that fire. Instead, a simple decision to finish the task before leaving the office ensured the policy was in force before the weekend began.

For Burgelis, his grandmother’s story became a lasting lesson about responsibility. From her example, he learned that duty was not measured by long hours or personal sacrifice for its own sake. It was measured by recognizing what needed to be done and doing it when the moment required it.

That commitment to following through, without expectation of recognition or praise, remains central to Burgelis’ understanding of public service. The values that guide him were shaped by family long before they ever reached Milwaukee, carried across an ocean by ancestors who understood the fragility of life and the necessity of persistent effort.

“My grandparents both had agronomy degrees from Latvia. When the Second World War came, they fled and were in displaced persons camps in Germany with very young children. My dad was two weeks old when they fled Latvia. My aunt was nine years old,” said Burgelis. “My mom was nine years old when she immigrated to the U.S. with her family. They settled eventually in Milwaukee and worked day jobs to provide for their family, bought a house on 20th Street near Rufus King, and eventually purchased some property up north for their farm.”

The stability his family eventually built in Wisconsin came through years of persistence and sacrifice. As immigrants, they worked in the city to support the household. Weekends were spent working the farm they had purchased in Sheboygan County. The property became both a source of pride and a connection to the agricultural roots they had brought with them from Latvia.

But circumstances changed when Burgelis’ grandfather died while Burgelis was still young, leaving his grandmother to manage the farm with 53 head of cattle on her own. The property in Sheboygan County had been a passion project for his grandparents, built through years of work and investment. Burgelis said his grandmother continued to maintain the farm and care for the livestock.

The values Burgelis saw in his grandmother were passed on to his mother, who raised three children due to the absence of his father. He described how both women took on responsibilities that could not be delayed, delegated, or avoided, and made the effort required of them without ceremony.

That sense of responsibility took on a hard reality when a young Burgelis experienced a family rupture that would stay with him for decades. It happened one morning at his home in Wauwatosa. A suitcase by the door, an emotional goodbye, and a farewell remark.

“Mom was a single mom. I had two older sisters,” said Burgelis. “I remember the day my dad left. My parents always fought. But one night it was really, really bad. And the next morning, dad had a suitcase and walked out. He looked at me and said, ‘I guess you’re the man of the house now.’ And I was like, ‘What do you mean? I can’t even push the lawnmower by myself.'”

Left to raise three kids on her own, his mother provided a powerful example of resilience. She spent four decades building a successful career at a Milwaukee newspaper, where working on commission required discipline, persistence, and a willingness to perform regardless of the conditions.

She instilled a strong work ethic in Burgelis. Her career in sales also exposed him early in life to the importance of consistency and self-motivation.

“My mom worked for the Journal Sentinel for 40 years. She sold classified advertising and was later in management,” said Burgelis. “I learned from mom that you go to work, and you do your best. I was also a commission salesperson for 20 years, selling mortgages. I don’t know if that’s just in our blood. In that type of work, you have good months, bad months, good years, great years, bad years. And you learn to adjust, learn to navigate. But if you are principled and you do the right thing, then it may be painful up front, but it’ll pay off in the long run.”

Through her example, Burgelis learned that accountability was not a theoretical concept. It was the daily practice of showing up, managing the lean months, and planning for how to weather unpredictable hardships.

Such an environment fostered a natural pragmatism, which took root early in his life. Burgelis looked for tangible ways to establish his own agency and to contribute to the household’s financial wellbeing through hard work.

On days spent with his grandma on her farm, she noticed his fondness for pumpkins. Burgelis described her garden as too big for one person to manage, but she loved it. When he took a bunch of pumpkins home one year, she helped him plant extra pumpkins the next year. When he harvested that crop, he brought it all back to Milwaukee.

“My first official business was ‘Peter’s Pumpkins.’ I would carry them out two at a time after school and sit there and sell the pumpkins from our house on 68th Street in Tosa.”

Burgelis took his earnings from that year and bought a battery-powered calculator from Walgreens. It was a model that could print out totals on a strip of paper. He said he felt it was important to reinvest in his business. For the next year, he could be better prepared and give a receipt to his customers.

It was an early example of his self-reliant approach to problem-solving, and set a precedent for a life that would later be spent managing difficult financial portfolios and balancing tight municipal ledgers. The discipline established in his youth evolved into a professional standard that guided Burgelis for two decades in the competitive financial sector.

Entering the mortgage lending industry required navigating a landscape defined by rigid metrics and swift rejections, where administrative efficiency typically outweighed individual circumstance.

Yet, his approach was not dictated by the easiest path to closing a quick deal. Instead, he treated complex financial situations as intricate puzzles that demanded custom solutions, refusing to abandon the vulnerable people hidden behind layers of paperwork.

“You have to build a reputation. You have to do the right thing. These are loans. You can’t cut corners. You have to do right by your clients. It’s your job to find the best solution for their particular situation, which is different for every single person, every single file,” said Burgelis. “I think that’s why I really liked mortgages, because it was the challenge. My biggest obstacle as a mortgage loan officer was hanging on to files too long. Because I knew something was closable, I knew there was a way we could get there successfully.”

Burgelis said that managers pressured him to close three other loans in the time he put into one complicated deal. But he refused to give up the challenge of a difficult win. He rejected the cookie-cutter files to go after the harder ones.

Looking back to 2004 and the first mortgage company he worked for in Louisville, Kentucky, Burgelis has tried to follow the careers of his colleagues. But he discovered that no one he knew was in the business anymore. No one had the longevity. It was because mortgages were difficult.

He understood the stakes of securing a home and recognized the personal devastation of being dismissed by a rigid system that favored effortless economic transactions. That same protective instinct eventually pushed him to confront the highest stakes of his own life.

Maintaining an outward appearance often comes at a steep internal cost. For years, Burgelis navigated the tension of an unspoken reality that was shaped by prejudice ingrained in American society.

He built a life that looked complete on the surface but carried a hidden weight. When the turning point arrived, he chose to face the truth and live an authentic life.

“I came out when I was 27,” said Burgelis. “I had married my high school sweetheart, and the decision to come-out came when we were about ready to start having a family. And knowing the struggles and difficulties of growing up in a household with divorced parents, I didn’t want my kids to have to go through that same experience. It was, frankly, one of the biggest decisions, the hardest decision that I made in my life, to come clean and tell her. But it was also one of the biggest weights off my shoulders.”

Having witnessed the long-term emotional fallout of a fractured household during his own childhood, he understood the impact of building a family foundation that would inevitably collapse. His decision took place during a period when many gay Americans faced significant social stigma and threats of violence. For some, coming out meant risking relationships, careers, or acceptance within their communities.

Social attitudes were so deeply negative in parts of the country that it was not uncommon for many to wait years before openly acknowledging who they were. The fact that so many still chose to do so speaks to the courage those decisions often required.

Burgelis said that it was a difficult process, but that everyone had their own coming-out story. He said it was important for people to do what was right for them when the time was right for them. Burgelis felt that if he had been more honest with himself all those years ago, he would have had a much different journey.

The path to elected office was not part of his long-term plan. The idea began a couple of years later, after Burgelis bought a house on Milwaukee’s south side and wanted to meet the alderman representing his new neighborhood, Mark Borkowski.

“I was working at the bank across the street from City Hall, and some friends of mine were helping then-Alderman Cavalier Johnson pass his ordinance that banned gay conversion therapy in the city of Milwaukee,” said Burgelis.

While he had not personally experienced the situation, people close to him had. Two of his friends actually met at conversion therapy, and they have been together and happily married ever since. So Burgelis joined them and other supporters in the Common Council chamber during the vote.

“To my horror, I watched Mark Borkowski vote against the ordinance that banned gay conversion therapy,” said Burgelis. “It still passed, 12 to 2, but he told me that he didn’t want the government to legislate how parents raise their children.”

For Burgelis, the issue was not a matter of parental discretion but child protection. He regarded conversion therapy as a form of child abuse and believed it was the government’s responsibility to protect vulnerable young people. He realized very quickly that the person who represented him in City Hall did not represent his values. Rather than accept that disconnect, he decided to challenge it.

“Within days, I made a decision to myself that I needed to do something about it. Because I couldn’t sit on my hands. I couldn’t watch a representative of the community that I am a part of not reflect my values and the values from most of my neighbors,” said Burgelis. “So I decided to run, and I ran against him.”

He campaigned against an incumbent who had represented the South Side in county and city government for nearly 28 years and lost in April 2020. But it was a unique election cycle shaped by the COVID-19 pandemic. Even so, Burgelis received 41% of the vote, the strongest showing against Borkowski during his time in elected office.

Two years later, Burgelis ran again, this time for the Milwaukee County Board’s 15th District seat. Facing another longtime incumbent, he won decisively with 68%.

“I ran a real campaign, knocked on real doors, and talked to real people throughout the district, which stretched from 43rd and Howard all the way up to 47th and Lisbon,” said Burgelis. “It was a very diverse district, but I thought a very good representation of Milwaukee County as a whole.”

The experience shaped his view of public service. Burgelis believes that elected officials have an obligation to match the commitment and expectations of the people they represent. He also considers elected office to be a privilege.

“If you don’t have someone representing you, representing your values, going to work to improve your community, your recourse is at the ballot box,” said Burgelis.

The political map of Wisconsin is not merely a set of district lines. For Burgelis, it is part of the larger argument over whether representation still reflects the lives of the people inside those boundaries.

Running for the 1st Congressional District while living just outside it invites an obvious attack, but he frames the issue less as a matter of geography than of shared conditions across southeastern Wisconsin.

“The district is gerrymandered, and it has been. That case is pending in the state Supreme Court,” Burgelis said. “My district is a mile away from it, and what residents who I represent on the Common Council tell me now is exactly the same thing that I’m hearing from people throughout the 1st congressional district. They’re concerned about affordability, and they’re disgusted by the administration and their attacks on and dismantling of democracy.”

The message connects his campaign to a broader sense of obligation. Burgelis traces that duty through his family’s history, from Latvia to Milwaukee, from displacement to public service. His grandparents fled war and rebuilt their lives in Wisconsin. For Burgelis, that inheritance is not abstract patriotism. It is a sense of gratitude measured through work, service, and responsibility.

“My family has an incredible debt to this country that brought us here when we had nothing,” he said. “And if they could see me now, I would hope that they’d be impressed.”

Burgelis does not expect the campaign against Bryan Steil to be gentle. He said Republicans moved quickly after his announcement, attacking his residency and voting record rather than questioning whether he was qualified. He sees those attacks as distractions, and he expects more of them.

“Whatever messaging Republicans are going to have about me, this campaign is going to get very dirty,” Burgelis said. “Voters can see through all that.”

He added that if Republicans wanted to get under his skin, they were going to have to step up their game. Burgelis grew up with two older sisters. The “trauma” that they put him through when he was young, he said, pales in comparison to whatever Republicans have to say.

For Burgelis, his answer to critics is to keep the race focused on the stakes he believes matter most to people: affordability, democratic stability, and whether southeastern Wisconsin has a representative willing to challenge the direction of policy in Washington.

“This election is too important to lose,” Burgelis said. “This is the time we can flip the seat, flip all of Congress, and come back to some basic American value like checks and balances in the federal government.”

He does not see public service as a title or a symbolic achievement. He describes it as work, often ordinary and unglamorous, that can improve people’s lives. Whether the issue is fire safety, garbage collection, LGBTQ+ rights, or congressional oversight, Burgelis returns to the same basic standard. He does this by listening to constituents, making their priorities his priorities, and delivering results that reflect them.

“I’m not in public service for the title or for the lapel pin,” added Burgelis, “I’m here to do the work and improve my community.”