Steven D. Sylvester / Dec, 12, 1973 – March 25, 2019

Steven Sylvester was a friend to many. He made a point to get to know everyone who came into his life. It didn’t matter who you were, where you came from, or how old you were, he would offer the same courtesies, and extend the same genuine compassion. Of course, if he had an opinion, he’d share that too.

Over his 45 years, he made rounds with friendships like a doctor checks on patients. Popping in to make sure all was good. I can still hear him say, “How are things? Everything good?” With Steve, you knew it wasn’t lip service, but that he sincerely cared. At his funeral, I recall the bounty of people who shared stories of recently receiving one of Steve’s usual calls to check in, or offer a hand.

If Steve couldn’t help you, he always knew someone who could. “I got a guy who can do that,” he’d say, and there was never a doubt that he did; Steve knew everyone. If you were selling something, he’d know someone who was looking for one; You needed something that was hard to come by, Steve knew where you could get it. He was the go-to guy for most everything.

Steve was a loving and devoted husband to his wife, Michele; A dedicated father to his son, Logan; A caring son, brother, uncle, in-law; And, a loyal friend. His sudden and tragic death, to no fault of his own, robbed many of an unforgettable, one-of-a-kind, all around great guy; And, occasionally a pain in the ass.

Since his death, I’ve pondered many theories on the purpose of life, and the meaning of death. I’ve tried to make sense of a senseless situation, while coping with the loss of a friend who I’d come to consider as family. Over six months later, and I’m no more comforted to its reality.

If I can see any light through this dark circumstance, it’s the care and compassion that’s been expressed by the many people whose lives he touched. His life has come to represent how our authenticity and simple kind gestures can leave an enormous impact on the world. Steve, your physical presence may have left us, but your essence will remain forever in our hearts.