I always knew Steve Hungate as ‘good-looking Steve’. This is because that’s how he introduced himself at “Birthday Steve’s” party (to this day, I'm not sure who the other Steve was). It was at the Academy of Spherical Arts, and even from that first meeting I could tell he was a good bloke, lots of fun, with a pretty much constant mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Steve loved a laugh, and he absolutely adored his wife and children. He always seemed to be grinning and dancing around the edge of ‘naughty’ with one eye on the crowd, to make sure the audience was laughing, and one eye on Carolyn, just to make sure he wasn’t totally overstepping the boundary of good taste.

He had such a love of life, was a real family man, and was one of those people who made everyone feel comfortable and welcome. It was impossible not to see that underneath that cool, jokester exterior was a huge warm heart of gold.

When I think of ‘good-looking Steve’, I think of his deep-fried-anything party, that I missed anyway, having cycled from the east-side of TO to get to the High Park house 30 minutes too late.

He and Carolyn were also super generous, and hosted a fun New Years party where they also welcomed my sister and nephew who had flown up from the US. The game of ‘rude-charades’ was classic Steve, giggling at the naughtiness, while his lovely wife looked on, as we were probably more immature than the kids playing hide & seek upstairs.

I’m definitely a better person for having friends like ‘good-looking Steve’ and the lovely Carolyn. The world needs more people like this.

This story has a special lesson for Cole at the end.

For whatever reason, Steve was a bit of a masochist when it came to his food. He would complain ad naseum about issues with his innards - and then proceed to put some of the nastiest stuff he could find into his mouth. Sometimes I wondered if he did this just so he could complain and gross people out later... about the issues with his innards.

Anyway, at one of our first pub nights at the Bomber in Waterloo, we had ordered some hot chicken wings and finished them in short order. Steve called the waiter over and said, "So those wings were okay. But I wouldn't call them "hot" wings. Can you make some that are really hot?". The waiter asked, "How hot? Like do you want me to hurt you?" Steve got very excited. He said, "Yeah! Hurt me!" From then on, when Steve ordered wings he'd ignore the flavours on the menu and tell the waiter he wanted them to be "hurt me hot".

Steve learned a lesson that night that I'll pass on to Cole. When you're older and you're out eating hurt me hot wings and you go to the washroom - make sure you wash your hands well BEFORE you go to the bathroom. Your mom can explain.

It was the summer of 1B. Steve invited me to Oakville for the weekend and we drove up there in whatever preceded his Jetta. When we got to his house, we had some other errand to run. Steve asked his mom if we could take the Infinite - and she agreed to his request. Steve was pumped. His whole body language changed. Before even seeing the car, I could tell he thought it was hot stuff. Making him hot stuff by extension.

We did whatever we had to do and were headed back to his place. We were in the left turn lane at a huge intersection and when the light turned green, Steve gave 'er big time. It was fun. For about 3 seconds. That's when the back end of the car kicked out and we started fish tailing. Still kinda fun at this point. Then Steve over corrected and we hopped over the curb and mowed down a tree. In the coming months, I would listen to Steve tell this story over and over again. This was another of his endearing traits. Steve would retell a story until he broke it. When he'd tell this story, he'd talk about running over a tiny sapling. Well, I'll have you know, it was a massive tree. Saplings aren't 12 feet tall. He hit the thing dead on and we landed back in the street.

We pulled into the first parking lot we could find to collect ourselves. I actually thought we were going to out of this adventure unscathed. But - one of the tires had blown out a side wall. The kind of flat that can't be fixed. And there had been a plastic cover on the front license plate that had been cracked by the tree.

The rest of the story is boring and was never retold. (Steve's dad was pretty angry - but he hid it well.) But what I've written above was exciting. Steve lived for stories like that. Ones he could retell in all his glory - making people cringe and laugh at the same time.

That was the first of many where Steve took an ordinary situation and amped it up to a great time. (Note, I have PG'd this version of the story - for the sake of the children.)

THE BOOK OF STEVE … the missing chapters

As Barb and I read these entries we were impressed about how ‘spot on’ they are. Yup that’s Steve alright! But it is falling to us to substantially fill in the B.C. years (before Carolyn). So here goes.

Steve literally arrived in Oakville with a bang. We were in the process of driving to our new home on Dorland Road when we were hit by a truck that ignored a red light. We were all unhurt but Steve was only three weeks old.

Ten years later we moved to Nipigon Dr. and by this time he was developing the Joie de Vivre that is so evident throughout these entries. We sent him off to summer camp (Muskoka Woods is a virtual Club Med for youngsters). Like all youngsters Steve told his parents nothing. But this was a key highlight for Steve at this time of his life. He made friends that were still friends twenty five years later. That is a recurring theme throughout his life … Steve made friends everywhere.

Skiing at Glen Eden was a favourite for Steve, every weekend all winter long. All summer long he crewed on The Goose. The Goose was an extremely successful racing sail boat that was famous all around Lake Ontario, the skipper being a well known tyrant. Years later Steve was in somebody’s office and he recognized a framed photo of The Goose. It seems that person was also a racing skipper and he took that picture after he actually beat Goose for the only time after years of trying.

So Steve starts grade nine at White Oaks H.S. Naturally he tells us nothing about what was going on. But we got a clue from his cousin Jane who was several grades ahead of him. She told us that she saw Steve sitting on a hall floor in front of his locker, surrounded by his grade nine classmates (female of course). Oops, was this a sign of what’s to come? Well yes it was.

A couple of weeks later he brought home his first report card. Disaster!!! All F's and a lone C. Barb and I were beside ourselves, Steve was just having too much fun. Anyway I got a effective piece of advice from my business partner; try naked bribery. So we did. I think it was $100 for every A and so on. Well I don’t think that this was the only factor as this is when Sara came on the scene. (Don’t forget that this was B.C.) Sara studied and this rubbed off on Steve. Whatever, from that time on we were paying!

I suspect that most teenagers would loved to have the same high school experiences as Steve; I know I certainly was envious as I think back about my own H.S. years. Steve thrived in high school. He was popular and he was cool, we used to joke that Steve and my father (a lot of Steve’s genes came from that gene pool) knew just about everybody in Oakville. As he worked through high school he was everywhere: a major participant in student government and in grade 11 he was selected as Halton Region’s representative to a Canada wide conference in Ottawa designed to foster Canadian unity. I think that conference was part of P.E.T.’s legacy. As with Muskoka Woods, Steve kept in contact with other attendees for decades.

Steve’s favourite subject seemed to be chemistry; his mother holds a master’s degree in Chemistry from U of T. Steve only asked for Barb’s help once with his chemistry homework problems. According to his teacher, his answers were all wrong. Never again did he ask!

Steve never had to look hard for a summer job when in high school … he simply worked for me as a delivery truck helper carrying ‘the other end of the desk’. However Steve was the only one on his truck who could speak English and who understood the paperwork. So from the perspective of the customer we had a 17 year old kid in charge with a 40 something year old driver from eastern Europe helping with the heavy lifting. My favourite little story from this time was when Steve and his ‘helper’ had to do a small repo.(Some customers just didn’t pay). And so the call came from the customer complaining about my goons. And no, I didn’t tell him that one of the goons was my son.

Steve seemed to have more than his fair on adventures, good and bad, with cars. Mainly bad. And that’s just what his mother and I know about. There is still a missing tree at the corner of River Oaks Blvd. and Trafalgar Road in Oakville. It seems that he and Sara were out in MY CAR when he used the tree to help him stop. Incredibly he hit the tree with my front license plate, no damage to the car but the tree was totaled. The cops couldn’t understand how it really happened, they were very suspicious of how Steve must have been driving. But he did dodge that bullet.

A couple of years later he was in a work term in Fort McMurray. This time he was using Barb’s mid life crisis car, a Nissan 240SX. It was cool. Anyway he was 2nd in line, stopped at a red light when he was crunched from behind by a 16 year old kid in a 16 year old pickup truck, driving Steve’s car forward into the 1st car in line. Steve was slightly hurt and Barb’s car was totaled. The kid had no insurance (oh hum this is Alberta after all) but Barb’s Nissan was fully insured.

There was one positive Steve car story. Barb had decided that we were going to have a garage sale and do I ever hate garage sales. So there we were with the old hand me down Camry that Steve and Doug shared parked on one side of the driveway and all our ‘treasures’ on the other side. A young woman with a young child walked in and asked if this was were Steve lived. Oh! We were puzzled, what did he do now? Well nothing bad,. A couple of days earlier he and Sara were driving in the ‘hood through a heavy downpour when they spied the woman and child standing the the rain waiting for a bus. So the two teenagers stopped and loaded woman and child into the Camry and drove them to their home. The woman was extremely grateful.

But I think that the hardest thing we had to deal with was telling Barb's mother that he used the money she gave him for Christmas to buy a nipple ring.

But high school comes to to an end for everyone and Steve was off to Waterloo.

And with Waterloo came Carolyn.

I met Steve during my interview at CPL. He was fairly laid back and easy to talk to. I ended up getting hired and indirectly reported to him when my manager was away.

Steve had been an excellent mentor to me. Although I indirectly reported to him on projects but he was always an easy going person whom you can talk to about anything. He had a great sense of humour, he would text me funny messages while our 9am production meeting was taking place and I would text him back trying to see who breaks into laughter first!

Steve was part of my project team and we travelled to Germany together. The Germans say "Chus" as good-bye but this word meant "suck" in my native language. I joked about it with Steve and sure enough after returning back - Steve went to various ladies on the production floor and requested them to ask me "How to say good-bye in German?" :) He would walk behind them and burst into laughter watching me answer this innocent question from various people :)

I never saw Steve getting lost in details, he was able to zoom out and come up with great ideas. He was big on work life balance and gave me various tips on how to manage work and a young family. I think he was built to be a great Dad and a great mentor! I will always cherish Steve.

We’ll always remember the great neighborhood camping trips where Steve tried to revive a soggy campfire with lighter fluid or how he dutifully wore the tin foil hat the kids made for his birthday and how he tirelessly played in the lake tossing kid after kid over his head into the water.   The rest of us grown ups were absolutely exhausted just watching him from our beach blankets ☺   He loved it as much as the kids did!

Steve loved racing sailboats!. As an enthusiastic member of the crew aboard 'Vimisar ll' racing out of the Sarnia Yacht Club, he quickly earned his nickname "Silly Steve" and lived up to it regularly. His competitive nature pushed us all on when we were tired or frustrated, and whenever there were a group of smiling faces around the boat or at the dock, you knew for sure that Steve was up to no good at the center of the crowd. Great memories.

I met Steve in 1993 when we were in Grade 11 and at a student conference in Ottawa for high school kids from across the country. He was so much fun and became such a highlight of the week that we remained pen pals after returning home. Yes … this was pre email … and Steve would send the greatest letters with the oddest stuff enclosed (once re randomly mailed me a plastic Super Grover and another time a Q-Tip because we had a discussion about cleaning ears). Then we got email accounts and still managed to keep in touch!

I think the thing about Steve I remember the most from meeting him at that conference was that he would embrace the most random things and make them so, so funny. We bought a Barney tape (the purple dinosaur) and played it non-stop just to be irritating, he bought a children’s bowling game and made everyone play it and he bought an old man hat and wore it with pride.  At some point he told me about how he enjoyed calling the 1-800 number on the bottom of a rubber ducky with weird questions … this made me laugh so hard that I still think of him every time I see a 1-800 number on the bottom of something.

Everything always felt comfortable with Steve – whether he was throwing me in his car to go out for dinner (I’m in a wheelchair), visiting my mom in the hospital, reading stories to my kids in a hotel room, or having a super gross conversation about digestion issues at a restaurant. On New Years Eve one year, Steve was running down the road while pushing me and we flipped over on some snow, freaking out a couple of motorists.  He just bounced up, set me upright, gave the cars a quick wave and a big grin, and kept on running without skipping a beat.

Living so far away in Alberta, I didn’t really spend that much time with Steve over the years but somehow we kept in touch he still felt like a kindred spirit every time we crossed paths. We met up in Banff for an afternoon when he went on some travel across Canada adventure and then he did co-op or internship of some kind in Calgary, giving us the chance to spend a good amount of time together (including that New Years Eve in Banff). After growing up and getting busy we really didn’t see each other very often but managed to catch up when we were in Toronto, the most recent time being this fall when Steve joined my husband and I on very short notice for a night at a Grey Cup party and we spent the night giggling about all the drunk CFL fans.

I will always cherish Steve and am feeling quite inspired to start sending random stuff in the mail in his honour.

When we were out of town one weekend, the Hungates were babysitting our hamster.  When I texted him to inquire how the hamster was doing, he sent me a picture, but I never received it.  When I didn't respond, he worried that he had offended me. When we got home he showed me the picture.  It was a hamster being swallowed by a snake!

One New Year's Eve, we went for a family run before supper.  Steve decided to "dress up".  He chose an old bride's maid's dress of Carolyn's.  It wouldn't zip up.  Lucky me - I got to run behind him!

Hi Meg and Cole

My name is Suly and I'm Minh's younger sister by two years. You came to my house in Stouffville for a BBQ in the summer of 2016. Remember the tree swing? 

I met first met your dad in the fall of 1998 at the University of Waterloo where your mom and dad went to school. When we were introduced, he first stared me down and gave me the stink eye. At first, it was very intimidating but everyone including your mom reassurred me by saying "don't worry, it means he likes you!". The best way I can describe it is your dad was a professional jokester. He took his trickery craft very seriously. 

You may have noticed a lot of the stories involve road trips and car rides. The thing was your dad was always the guy with the fancy car. Think in relative terms. While the rest of us were riding crappy Canadian Tire bikes and driving gas guzzling boats, your dad had the sweetest ride. I remember the purple Volkwagon Jetta. It was super fancy because it had heated leather seats. LEATHER!

Also your dad was always very kind and generous and that often involved a lot of driving, picking up etc. (you'll see Minh speaks to that same level of kindness and generosity in her tribute). Sometimes he would combine this with his trickery. Your mom was sometimes an accomplice.

One winter after the Christmas break I was flying back to Ontario from Saskatchewan and expecting Minh to pick me up from Pearson Airport. After getting my baggage Minh was nowhere in sight. Keep in mind this is all before mobile phones. People didn't even have cell phones unless they were involved in funny activities. I did however run into your mom and dad. What a coincidence. We chatted for a bit. They said they were there to pick someone else up and I probably complained about Minh being late. We then parted ways and still no Minh! 

It's hard to say how much time actually passed but I remember getting pretty worried that no one was going to pick me up. Then your mom and dad reappeared and fessed up. "We're actually here to pick you up" they said. I was skeptical but I figured why not go with these guys and see where they take me! 

We laughed and had very nice ride. 

Another time I think it was summer 2000 (or so) your dad, Minh and I were driving to the cottage. Nevermind James Corden, Minh and I were the original carpool karaoke and there was not a single eardrum we didn't love to burst. 

One of our favorite albums at that time was by a country trio called the Dixie Chicks titled "Wide Open Spaces" and we were torturing your dad by signing along THE WHOLE TIME. We'd give him a break every few songs and mix it up with say "On My Own" from Les Miserables. 

There is this one song by the Dixie Chicks called "you were mine" that I remember in particular. There's a pause in the song during the bridge right before the big ballad belt out. Your dad thought it was done. Ha! He was wrong. Check it out on spotify and you'll see what I mean. 

After torturing him with "you were mine" your dad asked us "who's the best?" and Minh and I without looking at each other or batting an eye answered in unison "Steve Hungate!". He replied with a stern face "that's right, that's right". Normally he could hold his position for a very long time but that one time we were able to crack him and a big grin appeared on his face. 

I always laugh when I think of that car ride. Your dad, though he put on a front, was actually a really good sport. He also was by all accounts the best dad, husband and friend. 

Sincerely 

Suly Luu 

Mike and I were touring Niagara with Carolyn and Steve last year, driving between various wineries.  Carolyn and Steve were in their car following us as we drove from one winery to the next.  Carolyn was driving and Steve was in the passenger seat.  I received a text message from Steve stating there would be a show starting momentarily.  Mike looked in the rear view mirror and I looked back to see Steve turned fully around in the passenger seat giving us the full moon (butt cheeks up against the windshield) and Carolyn looking less than impressed (though I think she was secretly laughing on the inside).  Classic Steve, anything for a laugh...and it worked!

Steve loved to end an outing or adventure by asking everyone what their favourite part of the day was (or in the case of a weekend or vacation, the "top 3").  I loved this little ritual that he had.  He made sure everyone shared their favourite experience with the group.  As the kids got old enough to participate, he made sure to include them as well.  At the end of a vacation, as everyone thought about the best moments in the week, it put smiles on all our faces, which is what Steve did best.

Steve and Carolyn got married at a resort on the Mayan Riviera in Mexico and Steve asked Derek Bezaire and I to stand up for him. I had one job and one job only to prepare, namely to bring with me a white linen shirt that I was to wear for the ceremony. Steve had delivered the shirt to me in Toronto before we left on the trip. I was really looking forward to the wedding. I had just gotten past security at Pearson airport when I realized that I had left the shirt in my closet at home. I was horrified. I didn't think Steve would mind too much but, thinking of Carolyn, I was NOT going to be the one to 'ruin' the wedding. Deciding I didn't have enough time to get the shirt and still make the flight, I bailed. Despite the inconvenience and extra expense, I booked an alternate flight and made it to the resort. I arrived in the evening and found Steve sitting with friends outside. He couldn't wait to take the piss out of me. "You know" he said, "there's an entire store FULL of those shirts in the local town here". I thought he was just giving me the gears, but he wasn't - I came across the store a few days later. He made a big deal out of how dumb I was, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed being there for him and Carolyn even more.

Some of my most memorable parties over the past 12 years have been hosted by Steve and Carolyn. Out at the cottage, in thier driveway in Highpark and again in Mississauga.. all these places will forever hold a special place in my heart ( especialy since I was a chef for almost 13 years ) because of the wonderfuly humourus and friendly host with the Perfected Art of Deep Fried Turkey ! My first Deep Fried Turkey was with Steve at the cottage. It was an amazing weekend and was so much fun just hanging out with everyone.

Steve had a way of taking BBQ parties to another level. He was generous, funny and a very good friend that I will remember fondly all my life. I will miss him very much and will  remember him with a smile whenever I  Deep Fry anything. We love you Steve and I will see you on the other side my freind :)

I remember meeting Steve as I moved into our interconnecting rooms in V1.  His parents were just leaving as my parents and I were just coming in.  As we unloaded my stuff into the back room, he came in with that mischievous look on his face, and reassured my overprotective parents that he would take care of me.  He was a total gentleman...until they left.  No word of a lie - the next thing he said was "you're in so much trouble", and then made that laugh that would haunt me for the next 4 months.

Our relationship was a weird one.  We had a surprisingly good time terrorizing each other.  He managed to tape my bed to my ceiling and later moved all of my stuff to the laundry room.  To get even, I built a snowman (with some bonus rabbit feces) in his room.  He retaliated by taping me to a chair and placing me on a table in the cafeteria at dinner.  All of this back and forth between us did so much to make me feel comfortable, as strange as that sounds. 

Steve had a way of making people feel better as soon as they saw him, and that's what I'll admire the most.  And he had a great butt.

Last fall we signed up with Steve for the ScotiaBank Toronto Half-Marathon, last minute. After arriving early in the morning we had to start with a washroom break. Having over 20000 race participants there was a huge line-up. Steve managed to find a hidden toilet with only 3 people in the line (hidden washroom for staff).  Somehow even with this shortcut the race already started as we were heading towards the starting line. Steve didn't hesitate to jump into the top Coral for runners planning to finish under 1:30. We were flying and his momentum lasted all to the end finishing with a really great time - 1:51. Better than he planned. We started our training for the next race in January, right after new Years Eve. 

I have so many fond memories of Steve. I met him at camp when we were probably in Grade 7. We became fast friends and have kept in touch ever since.

In high school we would spend hours on the phone sharing stories and making each other laugh. I lived in Scarborough and he lived in Oakville and we used to meet up in Toronto for these epic adventures exploring the city. This, of course, involved climbing on street art, like the giant chairs outside the TD Building and the strange aardvark like creatures outside metro hall and generally playing pranks on each other. I bet my love of cities and public space can partially be tracked back to those Saturday adventures with Steve.  (This photo is from one of our adventures in 1992 when we were 15. I think we took it at a photobooth at the Eaton Centre). 

You never quite knew what to expect with Steve. I remember once we were hanging out and he spit out his gum and put it in my hand and I wasn't sure what to do, it was so unlike what anyone else I knew would behave, but that was the kind of antics I grew to expect with him. I attribute my wet willy dodging skills to Steve. And I still have the rubber chicken he gave me for my 16th birthday. 

We went to so many shows together, like U2's Zoo TV and Zooropa tours, and more recently the Rheostatics and the Skydiggers. I distinctly remember Steve, with a mischievous grin, attempt to crowd surf at a Lemonheads concert. It didn't work out quite as he planned, he fell before even getting up, but we did get a big laugh out of it. 

He loved being a dad and would often tell me stories, with such genuine joy, of fun things he did with Carolyn and the kids.  

Steve had a way of making you feel special. I knew I could always count on him for a pep talk or a bad joke. 

I am so thankful for having had Steve as a friend. He was a gem, a complete goofball, but a gem. I will miss him dreadfully.   

Sending my love and support to Carolyn, Meghan, Cole and the rest of the family.  

So I was thinking today that even in his passing Steve brought people together. Yesterday,  20 plus  university friends, family and neighbours got together at a local pub to remenis about Steve.  So MANY stories :) Steve was very creative in the ways he found to entertain himself and others.   Never boring.  What a great example for all of us to follow. 

Steve and Paul, on Paul and Melanie's wedding day.  Yes, if you are wondering, that is Steve squinting to make "asian eyes", something he used to love to do.  We shared many many laughs - and in that, learned several truths about ourselves.

This time we were at Paul's wedding - a very special and happy occasion.  

This is one of the ways I will remember times in Sarnia.  Look at Steve's pose.  He did some of his best thinking in this pose.

Steve, Nadia, and I enjoying a laugh some evening in Sarnia - I believe he was pulling off some racial humour, which precious few souls can do.

Carolyn, Steve, Paul and I looking sharp at Peter's wedding in Ottawa.  Steve offered witty commentary throughout.

In order to survive winter in Sarnia, we banded together and formed a dinner club, each member taking turns hosting escalatingly glorious feasts.  This one was my farewell before leaving to go to med school.  It was a bitter sweet time, and few friends were as focused in their support as Steve.

Sarnia crew pic: A typical random pic of part of the team out, surviving winter in Canada's Chemical Valley. Here you can see our Steve being Steve 

We live around the corner from Steve and Carolyn and have the pleasure of knowing them for quite a few years.  Great neighbours, lots of good times and laughs together!  From the turkey fries, to the street 'pub crawls', he was always an integral part of the fun!  One evening in the summer of 2015 we were enjoying each others company a few doors down at Denise and Drews.  What do you do when the kids are in bed and have left their Little Tykes picnic table behind?  Arm wrestle of course!  It was an epic battle, but in the end Steve bested me at the cost of flying off his seat!  He was always prepared to play hard after working hard and that is probably why I really grew fond of him.  He was the consummate father - I admire greatly what he did with his family and respected that immensely ......


Mike and Heidi Reinprecht 

A bunch of us had taken a road trip to the east coast in a minivan after finishing a summer term at Waterloo. We had taken the Confederation bridge over to PEI and decided to take the ferry back to Nova Scotia. There was a long line of a few hundred cars waiting to get on. Well, when we got off, there was a similar line waiting their turn.

As I was driving around 60 km/hr, Steve opened the sliding door facing the line of cars pulled down his pants and mooned all of them. I can't count the number of times I've seen Steve's rear end in situations like this - but this one was the most memorable.

In 1998 I shared a small bungalow apartment rental in Calgary with Steve and another UW classmate, Minh.  We were there, out of province & working in engineering jobs that we really didn't like. It was a seedy part of town, and yet this didn't phase Steve at all.  He was the roommate with the car, so he would often drive through the dingy parts of the neighbourhood to see if he could get us to squirm.

There's one memory that term that sticks out in my head.  There was this really dumb song that kept getting heavy airplay on the radio.  It was a song by Cher called "Life after Love".  With these really awful synthesizer voice-effects.  When it came on the radio in his Honda CRV, he cranked this song & steered the car funny, like he was dancing the whole car - like the wheels were his feet on the dancefloor.  What a goofball.  

Steve and I worked together at Dow in 2002, although it was everything that happened after work that was memorable. Steve kept many of us sane during our time in Sarnia with his sense of humour and generosity.

My favourite day with him was playing golf at Angus Glen in Markham. The Canadian Open had been played there the previous week. The course was set up for the pros. If the ball left the fairway, it was gone. Steve had one of the toughest days on the course you could imagine. He had to buy more balls after nine holes, despite filling his bag in anticipation. And you know what? It didn't matter. He enjoyed that day so much, and made the rest of us enjoy it too. Steve's joy was contagious, and it made everyone love him. Days on the course that summer, golfing with Steve and Paul are some of my fondest memories. Steve will be dearly missed.