Steve and I went to the stock car races in Middletown as often as possible. I loved stock car racing and still do to this day. It is also where I learned to love sausage and pepper sandwiches. But I digress. This particular night when we were both teenagers, I dropped Steve off at his house about 11 P.M. and asked him to quietly go in the house and not wake anybody. I then proceeded to a local bar to have a few beers and a pizza. I know, I know, I was not old enough to drink, but that didn't seem to deter me in Port Jervis as I was a big guy. Unbeknownst to me, my mother had called Steve's house to see if he was home yet. Of course, his mother said Yes that he was asleep in bed and home since 11. When I arrived home about 1 a.m., I tried to sneak up the creaky old stairs of my grandmother's house with little success. Guess who was waiting for me at the top of the stairs ? You guessed it. My mother wanted to know where I had been and why I couldn't be a good boy like my cousin Steve ? As I said in my tribute, Steve was always known as the "perfect" boy and I was the troublemaker ! I never let my mother know the truth !! Rest in peace cousin, your secrets are safe with me and I will miss you.
As I mentioned in my tribute, Steve and I spent a lot of time together while growing up. Several stories stand out in my memory. His Dad and his Dad's brother owned a small cabin located in the mountains near Port Jervis. Steve and I liked to rough it by going there overnight. Of course, we always managed to bring along a six pack or two of beer which I was able to get at Paul's market around the corner since I looked bigger and older. We would go there summer or winter. This one winter night we picked up our beer and headed to the cabin to spend the night. Unfortunately, we could not get the fire to stay lit in the fireplace and the cabin was very draftly. The winds howled and the snow blew, but we were tough guys and were not going to wimp out and head home admitting defeat. Somehow, we managed to get through the night ( perhaps the beer fortified us ) despite being frozen. Also, did I mention, that cold beer really doesn't taste so good when you are frozen !!
On another occasion, again at the cabin, it was summer and we were shooting our 22's at targets we had set up. I was smoking cigarettes, which I had done since I was 8 and got quite dizzy as I was shooting. Therefore, I was not hitting very many targets. As we pulled out of the camp later that day, I took a brand new pack of cigarettes which I had just opened, and threw them out of the car window into the woods. Steve was a little irked at me, since he wanted them for himself, but I just decided on the spur of the moment to give them up for good. Fortunately, I have never touched them since that summer day when I was 16. Steve and I talked about that day many times over the years.
Steve and I shared a passion for golfing. Neither one of us were "great golfers", but we had our good days and celebrated our sometimes spectacular shots together. There were many of them. We always tried to play like gentlemen-well most of the time! One time about 25 years ago we were playing a course in the Baltimore Md. area. I had just moved there due to a job transfer and promotion. Steve drove down from Delaware to spend the weekend, and I got us a tee-time at a signature course that I believe is hard to get on even to this day-Pinewood. We got paired up with 2 guys that were to put it bluntly-buffons! They walked across you, when you were preparing to hit your shot. They looked for lost shots in the woods for what seemed like an eternity, rather than take a penalty stroke. For some strange reason, they congratulated us both on shots that we hit that were by no means spectacular, but never said a word if we hit a truly good shot. Our foursome was now holding up play on the whole course. At one point after they both hit balls in the water on one hole, they proceeded to pull out telescoping 20 foot long ball retrievers. After finding their balls in the water, they continued to prospect for the next 10 minutes and pulled out another 30 or so golf balls from the drink. All of this while 2-3 groups behind us were waiting to play a round in hopefully under 6 hours!!! The one guy told Steve that he was a plumber and this was his day-off. I was getting upset with these guys, and in a way Steve reminded me that they were not bad guys, and not to say anything to them. Needless to say we got through it and shook hands just before dark with these characters. Steve nicknamed the lead guy-"Jerry the Plummer". From that day forward whenever Steve and I were a 2 some and had to be paired up with 2 strangers, one of us would always say-"I hope we are not playing with 2 Jerry the Plummers". I miss my friend Steve and think of him every day. When I play golf now, I always find myself talking to him as if he were there, in a way he always will be!
