Steven James Crockett
May 19, 2021
Steve was born Steven James Preston, March 1, 1954, in San Francisco. He spent his early youth growing up on O'ahu, where he learned to love critters and nature. One of his memories is sleeping in a leaf of a huge plant in his grandfather's garden in the McCully-Mo'ili'ili Valley. At about the age of 7 his mother would drop him and a couple of friends off at the base of Diamond Head where they would spend hours hiking into the crater and exploring, he looking for little creatures. He moved to Mountlake Terrace with his family and stepfather at about 10 years of age, where once again, he would spend his non-school time exploring the woods - the area was 'uncivilized' at that time. As time went on Steve became a handful for his mother and so he went to live with his father for a couple of years on Kaua'i.
Returning to Mountlake Terrace he met Diane at a twice-a-week Teedrunar meeting. At 14 and 15, we were eternally joined spiritually. Life went on and we saw each other for one weekend at 20 and did not see each other again until Diane moved back to Seattle after close to 20 years on O'ahu. Always in my heart, Diane looked him up on the computer and took a chance after another 14 years. Calling and asking for Mrs. Crockett, he responded "You must have the wrong number...there ain't no Mrs. Crockett here." After hanging up, Diane called him again. He answered "hello?" and she said "Steve, do you know who this is?" and he responded "Diane." We met that night and were together from that moment, married 5 weeks later. We honeymooned on the Olympic Peninsula just outside of Seiku at the Bay Motel, then hiked into Cape Flattery and bushwacked our way down to a cove he named Eagle Beach. It is the 3rd cove down from the point, and he had been creating his own trail to the beach there for many years, even leaving a cache of supplies hidden behind a large boulder on the beach. We ate mussels and greenling he caught "on the rock" for days. I remember we had some eggs we buried in the sand that the resident River Otters found before we could get to them. We enjoyed many adventures in the backcountry, traveling each July for 6 weeks, and saw and experienced so much. The Black Rock Desert was a favorite, the Owyhee River and surrounding region also a favorite, as well as the southwest/four corners. Never going into "tourist" areas we found our own way on some very exciting "roads." We loved camping on Grey's River after coming through the Tetons. We went to Pipestone, Minnesota with a load of pink alabaster to trade on the reservation, and never missed a visit with John and Rachel at Planet X just outside Gerlach, Nevada. We were planning to travel in an outfitted van beginning soon once Diane retired this coming summer. Always watching for critters, Steve never passed by a snake on the path regardless of the type but would stop the car and using a stick, carefully move it to the bush so as not to be injured by a passing car. He stopped many times for tarantulas, or turtles once driving a distance to the river while the turtle scurried over his feet. For more of our adventures together, visit crockettperegrination.com
Steve was a carpenter by trade and an artist by passion. He worked with exotic hardwoods to create beautiful boxes, furniture, and curiosities as well as carving beautiful items in stone, collecting soapstone from a "secret" spot in the Cascades. His favorite thing was to give items to people he cared about, letting the material sort of lead him as he worked it. Steve made many items of jewelry for family and friends of stone he carved, gems, ebony. He was connected so deeply with the natural world, and being self-taught had a wealth of understanding and knowledge. You could see the reaction of an animal to his touch, calming them just by being present in their presence.
He dearly loved his children, Wilhelmina and Sage Lee. Often as a mother, Diane would worry about the children, and he would calm her saying, "they have their own path and will walk it. They know we love them and know where we are if they need us." They loved him in return, seeing and knowing his deep love for them and for their mother, his kindness toward people and creatures, his generous and giving spirit. This past winter, he became worried about the hummingbird that would visit the home. He rigged up a shop light on the deck hoping the "hummer" would stay warm. The tiny bird did and would be there each day, sitting cuddled up on the platform Steve created for him.
Another passion is music. As a young man he spent time as a "roadie" and loved everything about it. He always wished he could play an instrument, especially drums. His great friend, Jack, would share his guitars and drums with him and they would talk music. He loved all genres: jazz, blues, rock, folk, Linda's baroque, Funkadellic, ethnic. He knew any song, who wrote it when it was written...I have never known anyone with so much knowledge in so many fields.
Steve has two brothers, David and his wife, Sharshar, and Mike and his wife Susan, and one niece, Caitlin, who he loved deeply. His love was deep and if he felt betrayed he hurt just as deeply. Charlie, Jack, Angela, Steve, Mark, Cathy, Tonia, Jody, Leo, he treasured you all. He cared so for many. He loved coming up with sayings for tee-shirts. One Christmas he created a tee for Sharshar, with the picture of a rocket with a shark face - Sharkrockett. Get it?
In the past few years, Steve fought health problems. His transition was peaceful and quiet, falling to sleep. He is so very loved by those who know him. And so very loved by me, his wife, for eternity. Steve requested that I play this song for him when the time came. It wasn't supposed to be now. He is everything to me.
In lieu of flowers, food, or candles, consider a small donation to World Wildlife Fund. He admires their mission.
Written by Jody Desclos:
A hug
A smile
A sharing of self
A hope for new adventures
He mapped out the future as he followed footprints of the past
Always, always he was filled with a desire to follow the road untrodden.
Steve gave us unmeasured happiness just by being in his presence--
Just by being himself.
A man who did his best to be "the real thing."
He made no pretense about not wearing the scars of battles waged with self
His were the real "what you see is what you get"
Gathered from years of experience and pain.
Music held him close
And whispered for him to seize the now
And play each note with joy!
And so he did.
His love for Diane filled the darkness with light
So much were they each other's Spirit hugging Spirit that they disappeared
To become the glue that made brokenness whole.
There is no way to measure the impact made by such a life--
There is no way to reclaim the seeds of hope he sowed.
One hopes that he will continue to help us
Find the reason for this journey.
We love you now and forever, Steve!
Returning to Mountlake Terrace he met Diane at a twice-a-week Teedrunar meeting. At 14 and 15, we were eternally joined spiritually. Life went on and we saw each other for one weekend at 20 and did not see each other again until Diane moved back to Seattle after close to 20 years on O'ahu. Always in my heart, Diane looked him up on the computer and took a chance after another 14 years. Calling and asking for Mrs. Crockett, he responded "You must have the wrong number...there ain't no Mrs. Crockett here." After hanging up, Diane called him again. He answered "hello?" and she said "Steve, do you know who this is?" and he responded "Diane." We met that night and were together from that moment, married 5 weeks later. We honeymooned on the Olympic Peninsula just outside of Seiku at the Bay Motel, then hiked into Cape Flattery and bushwacked our way down to a cove he named Eagle Beach. It is the 3rd cove down from the point, and he had been creating his own trail to the beach there for many years, even leaving a cache of supplies hidden behind a large boulder on the beach. We ate mussels and greenling he caught "on the rock" for days. I remember we had some eggs we buried in the sand that the resident River Otters found before we could get to them. We enjoyed many adventures in the backcountry, traveling each July for 6 weeks, and saw and experienced so much. The Black Rock Desert was a favorite, the Owyhee River and surrounding region also a favorite, as well as the southwest/four corners. Never going into "tourist" areas we found our own way on some very exciting "roads." We loved camping on Grey's River after coming through the Tetons. We went to Pipestone, Minnesota with a load of pink alabaster to trade on the reservation, and never missed a visit with John and Rachel at Planet X just outside Gerlach, Nevada. We were planning to travel in an outfitted van beginning soon once Diane retired this coming summer. Always watching for critters, Steve never passed by a snake on the path regardless of the type but would stop the car and using a stick, carefully move it to the bush so as not to be injured by a passing car. He stopped many times for tarantulas, or turtles once driving a distance to the river while the turtle scurried over his feet. For more of our adventures together, visit crockettperegrination.com
Steve was a carpenter by trade and an artist by passion. He worked with exotic hardwoods to create beautiful boxes, furniture, and curiosities as well as carving beautiful items in stone, collecting soapstone from a "secret" spot in the Cascades. His favorite thing was to give items to people he cared about, letting the material sort of lead him as he worked it. Steve made many items of jewelry for family and friends of stone he carved, gems, ebony. He was connected so deeply with the natural world, and being self-taught had a wealth of understanding and knowledge. You could see the reaction of an animal to his touch, calming them just by being present in their presence.
He dearly loved his children, Wilhelmina and Sage Lee. Often as a mother, Diane would worry about the children, and he would calm her saying, "they have their own path and will walk it. They know we love them and know where we are if they need us." They loved him in return, seeing and knowing his deep love for them and for their mother, his kindness toward people and creatures, his generous and giving spirit. This past winter, he became worried about the hummingbird that would visit the home. He rigged up a shop light on the deck hoping the "hummer" would stay warm. The tiny bird did and would be there each day, sitting cuddled up on the platform Steve created for him.
Another passion is music. As a young man he spent time as a "roadie" and loved everything about it. He always wished he could play an instrument, especially drums. His great friend, Jack, would share his guitars and drums with him and they would talk music. He loved all genres: jazz, blues, rock, folk, Linda's baroque, Funkadellic, ethnic. He knew any song, who wrote it when it was written...I have never known anyone with so much knowledge in so many fields.
Steve has two brothers, David and his wife, Sharshar, and Mike and his wife Susan, and one niece, Caitlin, who he loved deeply. His love was deep and if he felt betrayed he hurt just as deeply. Charlie, Jack, Angela, Steve, Mark, Cathy, Tonia, Jody, Leo, he treasured you all. He cared so for many. He loved coming up with sayings for tee-shirts. One Christmas he created a tee for Sharshar, with the picture of a rocket with a shark face - Sharkrockett. Get it?
In the past few years, Steve fought health problems. His transition was peaceful and quiet, falling to sleep. He is so very loved by those who know him. And so very loved by me, his wife, for eternity. Steve requested that I play this song for him when the time came. It wasn't supposed to be now. He is everything to me.
In lieu of flowers, food, or candles, consider a small donation to World Wildlife Fund. He admires their mission.
Written by Jody Desclos:
A hug
A smile
A sharing of self
A hope for new adventures
He mapped out the future as he followed footprints of the past
Always, always he was filled with a desire to follow the road untrodden.
Steve gave us unmeasured happiness just by being in his presence--
Just by being himself.
A man who did his best to be "the real thing."
He made no pretense about not wearing the scars of battles waged with self
His were the real "what you see is what you get"
Gathered from years of experience and pain.
Music held him close
And whispered for him to seize the now
And play each note with joy!
And so he did.
His love for Diane filled the darkness with light
So much were they each other's Spirit hugging Spirit that they disappeared
To become the glue that made brokenness whole.
There is no way to measure the impact made by such a life--
There is no way to reclaim the seeds of hope he sowed.
One hopes that he will continue to help us
Find the reason for this journey.
We love you now and forever, Steve!