Steven was always a hard worker -- especially when it was something distinctive and interesting. He spent all his free time gaining skills and dreaming of putting them to use. My earliest recollection was his learning magic tricks from a book. Then he turned to juggling, playing the coronet (trumpet) and bugle, and riding the unicycle. After going to Swiss Days in Alpine, UT he worked on learning to yodel, but fortunately that didn't last very long for any of us.
A couple more of examples of Steven's ability to decide what he wants and then see it to the finish was his
learning to play the piano and his consistent service to neighbors. One day we were playing downstairs and Steven told me that he had done the math and figured out how he was going to begin amassing his fortunes. He knew that we got a quarter for several hours of work in the yard, but practicing the piano got him a nickel. He could double his earnings by practicing every day. To his credit not only did he pick up the piano, but he continued with the yard work religiously. Then he branched out to doing the neighbor's yard and then Olga Barros' yard. It was practically slave labor, but he took great pleasure getting the job done and doing it right. One time I went with him to help weed Irmgard Pohle's garden and what looked like a twenty-minute job turned into over two-and-a-half hours. The heat was exhausting and my effectiveness waned with the evening sun, but Steven kept going strong until Sister Pohle told us gratefully that we had done enough for the day.
Although we spent most of our childhood playing in the backyard, we still our share of mischief. And although none of it was mean-spirited, it tended to be somewhat bold and sometimes dangerous. I remember countless times of our sneaking into the Niels' backyard for a Frisbee or a ball. Many times it involved climbing over the fence. One of those times Steven climbed the chain-link fence and when he got to the top, his hand slipped. As he fell back onto our side of the fence the spikes at the top ripped clear through the invincible Toughskin plaid pants and left a hefty gash clear down the inside of his leg. If a Frisbee ended up on the roof, Steven led in the use of the railing to get up on the garage roof to get it back. We also explored the meaning of the label "extremely flammable" on a can of turpentine and learned to use three or four saws at an early age.
Still I think "memories of Steven" would be substantially incomplete without a comment on his role as a philosopher. We grew up in a split-level home with stairwell that was visible both from above and below and lacked risers so that the treads formed a sort of inverted ladder. Our parents disapproved of it, but we would climb like monkeys up the underside of the stairs. Well I can still remember the day when Steven asked the question: "why should it matter whether our parents were around to say 'no'?" In other words is it still wrong with or without consequences? For a child still in Primary, this was deep thinking. Another example was Steven's considering how to stop a fight. He said, "if someone calls you 'chicken', just say 'thank you' because that will drive them nuts". He was always asking himself what motivated the people around him and then mulling over how he could change a person's normal course of action.
He continues to apply himself to change his surroundings - fixing up his apartment when the landlord has all but abandoned it. He thrives on order, efficiency, and innovation. Perhaps he might be heard saying, "everything can be better than before, but it's never too late to try something new" or "push the limits of your world."
I have many more memories, but these should suffice to say Happy Birthday Steven!
