Steve Davis (a tribute and eulogy)
I just sent a FB message to some
close friends – “sad news. today Lynn Davis called and told us
that Steve had been killed, instantly, in a car wreck. this happened 09/29/13,
a couple of months ago. in her pain and shock, she did not know we were
unaware. but, now, she realized we must have not known, since none of the
FHC/HGSR group have contacted her. their daughter, Katy, was injured, but
survived. Lynn was not with them, thank the Lord. contact information: …” (http://www.nbcmiami.com/news/1-Dead-in-4-Car-Crash-in-Southwest-Miami-Dade-225715121.html
)
I am in shock. Writing helps me organize and stabilize and
internalize. Steve was a good
friend. There were four of us, at FHC,
that started our own international fraternity, the AIFAM. (that’s “mafia” spelled backwards, for you
slow ones! We were gangsters for God.) Jerry, Mark, Brent, and Steve were the
charter members (and ONLY members!) Practical
jokes were our MO. We made the dean’s
list (not the academic one; but, his top-ten list – though nothing could be
proven, he moved us to the first floor in our dorm to watch us better.) We had a wannabee, Dexter, whom we put
through days of torture for initiation into this elite group. He did not know that the initiation ended one
day after he gave up. It was the four of
us that heaved the water-balloon into the open window of a parked car of a
fellow student “talking” to his sweetheart!
Fun days.
We all moved on to
grad school, and then into church work – different paths with different twists
and turns. Steve ended up in Miami,
teaching in a Christian high school.
There, he was well-liked, and well-remembered. This is the local NBC tribute -- http://www.nbcmiami.com/video/#!/on-air/as-seen-on/Church-Officials-Remember-Man-Killed-in-Crash/225773601. This is a part of his life that I have not
known nearly as well as I would have liked. Sadly, years and miles have a way of
separating us. (Steve was a writer,
also, and I hope to track down some of his blog entries! -- http://www.sunsetonline.com/ )
“Teach us to
number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12) These words of David, the psalmist, come to
mind. We are not promised even “threescore
and ten”. I awoke, sat on the edge of my
bed, and asked God to keep me close to him today (a daily habit). It was not too much later that the phone
rang. Today’s lesson is what? “Make every day count; it may be your last”
or, “Stay in touch with your friends; the clock is ticking” or, “God is in
control, even when the world is out-of-control”?? Lynn shared the details of the accident, and
I reviewed the media. God is good, even
in the midst of great evil. Lynn shared
her perspective on her being home sick that day.
Steve was a
gentle, kind soul. I was a bit rowdier. Steve was my friend, even after I once
slugged him for fouling me in a pick-up basketball game! (Everybody took his side, and I apologized;
never another word about came from Steve)
He was a bit “different” even “weird”!
(I love the etymology of “weird”)
He read Tolkien and Lewis and … while we were more concerned about
sports and other trivia. In grad school,
some assembled to play D&D and some gathered on the lawn to play “touch”
football. Steve and I were not in the
same group. While I was locking horns
with some west-coast preppie over how hard I touched him (sorry he smeared the
ground!), Steve and others were fellowshipping in a fantasy world. I tried D&D with them, once – “different
strokes…” But, we had this in common –
Steve loved God and people. He spent his
life trying to show this.
Steve was
left-brain, artsy fellow. He painted and
wrote. Once we took, together, an art
class at FHC. It was an elective for me,
but a dream for him. We had a project, “50-hours”
level of involvement. Steve made this
wonderful oil painting, spending hours toiling over the detail. I went to the library, scanned magazines,
found a picture that I liked, got the opaque projector, traced the picture on
poster board, and wrote on the back – “1 hour choosing subject; 1 hour tracing;
48 hours admiring”. Now, this was a
one-hour elective, crip class. The
unfair thing was that I got an A on the project! Steve was insulted. It was funny, to me. But, he was my friend; and this soon faded
away. I just smile remembering those fun
days.
Steve was a man of
conviction. He gave his heart and hands
to what he believed in. He
persevered. He lived his mind. At FHC, we several times had to chastise Steve
about his dress. He refused to wear
socks to church. Agh! He finally explained to us that he detested
the preppie, fashionista shallowness of too many of our classmates; and this
was his silent protest! That was
Steve. He was thinking. He was protesting. He was right.
Steve had a couple
of nicknames: Oscoda, and Oops. Steve was an Air Force brat. He had lived in Guam, … but Oscoda, MI was
home. So, that name stuck. His other name, not known to all, was “Oops”! This stemmed from a visit to a backwoods,
rural church revival “gospel meeting”
When several of us Freedies got there, Steve wanted to know what the
small storage shed was for, out behind the church. “It’s an outhouse…” I informed him. “No…” he declared, defiantly, as he walked
toward it to look inside. “you better
knock…” I yelled, as he reached to snatch open the door. A poor, little girl scrambled to cover her
dignity, as Steve quickly shut the door, and apologized, “oops!” Now you know the rest of the story! It was a long church service with two glaring
eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.
I met a girl, Melanie, my 3rd
year. Mark married his hi-school
sweetheart. Brent met a FHC co-ed. But, Steve somehow got entangled with a girl
from “David Liberal”. Her name was
Lynn. Lynn and Melanie became close
friends during our Memphis years. Monday
night was there “little house on the prairie” date. (I was working at UPS in the evenings) Sweet, sweet Lynn. Your call today saddens me. And, it gladdens me. Your spirit, your heart, your joy, your faith… We love you.
Melanie called, on a heavenly urge, three months ago, and talked to
Steve. They could not talk long -- Steve and Katie were headed out to some
event. Now I understand why you did not
call back, right away. We did not know
of your pain.
Steve, soon enough, we will sit laughing,
sharing a cup of coffee in the heavenly realm.
Save a seat for Mark and Brent, and Gallenbeck, too. The AIFAM will be reconvened.
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