I met Steve in 1963 when we were freshmen at Carleton College.
His
death stuns me and saddens me immensely. For two years we roomed
together and shared the "Carleton experience." He was very
different
from me. I knew nothing about the world and he seemed to know
everything. Steve had distinguished himself in High School
by being
awarded a history prize at graduation from New Trier. He had a
problem
with that because it was sponsored by the DAR (Daughters of the
American Revolution). The story goes that he went to the podium,
denounced the DAR, and declined to accept the award. Pure Steve.
We liked each other but were an odd pair because I was a prep school
version of Shallow Hal and my list of accomplishments in 1963 included
being 14th in a class of 28 prep school boys, liking to read, and
knowing how to mix drinks. Steve had begun to live a principled
life.
I soaked up what he knew and began to understand his anger about
Vietnam and many other issues. I learned he had heroes in his
family
who fought for social justice. I mixed a few drinks for him now
and
then. We drank cheap wine on double dates.
We spent hours together in the dorm, at one point reading Catch 22
to each other out loud and falling out of our beds laughing.
After our
sophomore year we hopped in his car and went to Aspen to look for
summer jobs. We camped in Maroon Bells and walked the dusty red
clay
streets of Aspen and of course did not find work. We drove back
and it
was a great road trip in every way but why we had gone.
Steve’s life was a model of purposefulness and good works. He
knew who
he was when he was 18. His life is properly humbling to us -- as
the
testimonials here attest. He found no just cause to be unworthy
of his
attention, and he was never full of himself. (Maybe
once, for a week or two when he dated a striking 6 foot tall senior
woman as a freshman - a beautiful thing to behold when they walked then
campus together!)
My ideal of a beautiful life would be to live by high ethical standards
and to work against the social and political forces that degrade and
dehumanize people. Further, there has to be in a great person a
sense
of being attached to the earth and to its communities. Steve had
all
of these qualities, and it is remarkable that in a life of such serious
intent that he lived so joyfully and so unselfishly. He was a funny,
generous, and kind man.
A month or two ago I sent him an email asking him to come to the
Carleton Class of 1967 reunion. I had not corresponded with Steve
for
a few years but I began to think more about our closeness 40 years ago,
so I asked him if he was planning to attend in June of 07. He
said he
had not planned it, but he would go if I was going, and he hoped our
wives could meet. His wife is a psychotherapist as I am and he
thought
it would all be fun and interesting. Now I will have to go
without him
and it will be difficult. I am so sorry to lose Steve who has
lived
such a good, honorable and loving life.