I remember going to Arkansas to visit the Stricklands and Grandpa and Grandma. Steve would always catch tree frogs to throw on us to make us city girls scream.  
One time about 20 of us cousins were in the rowboat on the pond when Steve started rocking it and swamped us...then started yelling that he could see snakes in the water.  Oh the screaming! I think he loved doing things that would get all the girls screaming at one time! 
 One night the girls were all staying up at Grandpa's and the boys down at Uncle Sonnymans house.  All of a sudden we girls heard a wild howling all around the house.  Grandpa just grinned, stepped out on the porch and called to Grandma, "Grace, get my shotgun, I need to shoot whatever varmits are out here."  The next morning we understood that some unexplained injuries happened in the night to Steve and other of our boy cousins.  
Another time we were running around acting like kids when somehow Steve's big toe got caught up in a door as we were trying to close it and he and others were trying to open it.  How he howled until we figured out what was wrong and opened the door to free Steve and his toe...we thought he was making it up so they could get in the room!   
We city dwellers loved to go visit the Arkansas Stricklands!  Swimming in White Lake, riding in the back of Grandpa's truck, ice cream shakes from that little place in town, picking blackberries, Strickland cousins just our ages.  Steve wearing shorts, no shirt, no shoes, darkly tanned from being outside all summer.  He was our leader because he knew all the fun things to do.   
Steve was just a treasure of a cousin.  At the family reunions I loved to sit down beside him and share memories.  He would chuckle and grin.  Steve was quiet...he didn't talk a lot..... but he was a man you felt you could depend on.  
We will forever miss not having him in our world.     

Let me first apologized for the length of this post, but I have a lot to say about my Uncle Steve.  He was very special to me.

We went on countless fishing and camping trips with him.  I remember one day while I was in elementary school, Steve came to a school play and following the play told me he was going to take Chris and I fishing when we got home.  So I figured I better get myself home.  Being 8 or so, I somehow checked myself and Chris, who may have still been in kindergarten, out of school in the middle of the day (not sure that happened).  We walked home alone (nearly a mile) so we could fish with Steve. 

From a young age, Steve took Chris and I off-roading in his Toyota truck.  I remember being terrified as he drove too close to the edge or up a crazy hill, just to freak us out.  Fearing for my life, I hatched a plan that when we inevitably drove off the cliff I would jump off the truck right before hitting the ground and land safely (I’m sure the physics would have worked).  Steve, of course, was laughing at the fear he was instilling. 

Steve installed two rear facing seats in the bed of his Toyota for Chris and I.  We’d all go to the desert for fun or to look for aluminum cans to recycle.  We’d drive, Chris and I in our seats in the back, and would yell at Steve when we saw a can, he’d stop and we’d go chase down the cans.  We’d fill up the bed of his truck and Steve would always let us keep the money we earned.  We loved spending time together.

Steve loved to tease…relentlessly.  He was always singing to me “Andy Pandy pudding n pie, kissed the girls and made them cry, when the boys came out to play, Andy Pandy’d run away.”  I hated it.

He came to our soccer games, took us to get haircuts at his barber, chucked us from one end of the yard to the other, fed us chips, salsa and fresh guacamole and teased us until we cried.  We loved him for it.

When I was older, Steve took me on a deep sea fishing trip in Galveston…I puked for 8 hours.  Steve loved it because he got to catch my limit in addition to his.

He introduced me to fried turkey, which is now the traditional and preferred method of cooking my family’s Thanksgiving bird.  I even have my own turkey fryer and use the techniques he taught. 

During my last visit with Uncle Steve, we spent time eating good food (cooked by Steve) hanging out at NASA, taking a boat ride, and getting kicked out of a gun range (long story…wasn’t our fault).  He bragged about his African Safari and showed us all the amazing pictures from his trip.

During this trip I learned about Steve’s service to our country both as a contractor in Iraq and a volunteer in the recovery of debris from the Columbia Shuttle tragedy.  He received multiple official recognitions and commendations for his service. 

In short, he was the kind of guy who wanted to make everyone happy.  You couldn’t be with Steve and not laugh.  He was always cracking jokes or making fun of something or someone.  You wanted to be around him.

The experiences I’ve had with Steve are some of my most treasured.  He always made me feel special and loved.  He was genuine and truly enjoyed spending time with us and we truly enjoyed spending time with him.  During my last trip to Texas, Steve made it a point to express how proud he was of me and my siblings and how much he loved us. 

Steve- I’m gonna miss you man.  Love you.

A photo of Steve, Breezy and me during my last trip to see him.

The day Steve met my wife for the first time.

Its difficult to share just one story about Steve. He was so much fun. I remember his white truck and how he would pretend to drive off in it leaving Andy and I. Or when we went deep sea fishing and Steve was swaying back and forth in the harbor trying to get me sick. Later that day, he ended up throwing up while fishing. I remember Steve shooting a blow dart into Sarah's leg. One Saturday he took Andy and I to soccer and while crossing the pedestrian bridge over 215, I froze with a fear of heights, Steve had to save me. I remember the day he left to move to Texas, under grandma's car port he broke down because he was going to miss us so much.

I loved his eyes and his smile. They were genuine. He brought such light into any room he entered. He was a great uncle.

When Rich and I were first married we decided to go camping in Bountiful . The camping trip was doomed from the start, what with forgetting all our cooking equipment( we ended up cooking burgers on a license plate!) we also got our Volkswagen Bug stuck and ruined the transmission . We ended up walking 16 miles to a 7-11 and phoned Steve to come rescue us! He willingly came and picked us up and took us back up the mountain to retrieve our things. Steve had bought a long some guns and we set up some targets for some shooting practice . First he let me shoot his shot gun,with Rich standing behind me, ready to catch me and Steve standing beside me ready to catch the shot gun just in case I dropped it!  Well I didn't drop the gun and I hit my target and I will never forget Steve's smile when he looked at me, he was so impressed and surprised that I hit the target first time, that he let me shoot his magnum 45!!  We enjoyed a great afternoon. Steve had a great passion for the outdoors and took pride in his guns and taking care of them properly. I was always impressed with that. 

When my two oldest boys were very young, we moved to Germany.  Andy was two years old and Chris only a year.  One day we got a phone call (which in those days before cell phones were VERY expensive) from my mother and brother, Stephen.  While we were talking, Andy found a picture of Stephen in my purse.  He took it out all excited and squealed, "Oh, it's my pretty Stephen!"  That picture was passed around during the next three years and all of my children called him their "pretty Stephen."  I encouraged that because Andy had loved Stephen from the day he was born.  They were buddies and Stephen played with both Andy and Chris daily before we left for Germany.  Not only was he pretty, he was a great uncle.