We lost Stephen on Tuesday, the 8th of July, after a lovely weekend with friends and family.  His lovely wife Cathy and his son Torbjon were at his side when he stepped out: we're informed that his passing was quick and painless and a bit of a surprise to Stephen.  He's survived by his wife and son as well as two brothers.  There will be no ceremony, in accordance with Stephen's wishes.  In lieu of flowers, would you consider making a donation to Stephen's favorite charity, the Paralyzed Veterans of America?

Stephen's health had deteriorated to the point that he was faced with long, painful and ultimately futile treatments for both heart disease and a lung tumor: those who know Stephen will be unsurprised to find out that he managed to dodge that bullet.  His talent for dodging bullets was surpassed only by his talent for getting people to shoot at him.

It is difficult to summarize a life like Stephen's.  "He came from humble stock." "He was a self-made man."  All these phrases fit, but none capture the essence of Stephen.  I was lucky enough to be his friend for the last fifteen years or so of his life, as were many of you.  Let me just free-associate: I hereby certify that all the descriptions below, both "good" and "bad" (not that Stephen would have any truck with either of those terms) apply to my friend:

Stephen was, at one time or another:

My son, Samuel, speaks for all of us when he said through his tears that he wants "Unca Stephen back."

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