My oldest son became friends with a kid down the street when he was 6.
Shortly after, his father called to ask if I could install an icemaker line for his new refrigerator.
I told him I could, and we set up a date and time.
It was during the summer of 1994.
Installing a new water line for a refrigerator is actually quite involving.
Steve came home while I was finishing up downstairs.
By the time he came downstairs, he had taken off his shirt.
He was in his early thirties then, six years younger than me.
He had dark eyes that were hard to read, and he was absolutely ripped!
He led me into his two-car garage and showed me his trophies and photos.
On the way, I tripped over his two Corvettes parked inside.
At one point, he asked me if I’d ever been to a live fight.
I only watched on TV.
In most cases, whatever they promised never happened…
Three weeks later, Steve called me.
He was heading to a casino in Connecticut for a fight and asked me if I wanted to go.
I immediately said yes.
On the afternoon of the fight, Steve came by and picked me up.
Two other broad-shouldered guys were in the Crown Vic; one was driving.
Steve was sitting shotgun and was the most talkative, his dynamic personality on full display.
When we got to the casino, we secured some seats close to the ring.
They were carrying on in a way I knew they had common interests…
I watched the fights, mostly alone, but Steve came back over for the main event.
After the fight, we grabbed something to eat and then headed home.
Before he hurt his right shoulder, he fought for the Southern New England Light Heavyweight Title.
He introduced me to Robbie at a fight one night.
I started going to a lot of fights with Steve.
We saw James Toney win a championship, a fight that was televised on ESPN.
By then, he was already under suspicion by the FBI.
When I got in his car, he whispered,“The car’s bugged.
Steve left almost immediately to smoke cigars with his buddies.
He’d lean in and give me a reassuring wink, and Tony smiled.
I was a bit nervous with what they were saying, at times looking to me for approval.
They were watching Steve, and the two of us were spending a lot of time together.
At the time, I thought he was being paranoid.
The undefeated fighter was jacked, but he lacked form, and he was throwing ineffective arm punches.
The undefeated fighter ate a perfect punch, and he went down.
The two kids were going crazy.
He got up in time to beat the count and get out of the round.
The second round wasn’t too unlike the first.
The two kids went crazy, again.
It was my first time at the gym, and Steve showed me the ring.
I stared into his dark eyes, which suddenly looked very different, unrecognizable.
Our kids were in Cub Scouts and then Boy Scouts.
Once, they were both going camping for the weekend with the Boy Scouts.
He was staring at the leader, and it wasn’t a friendly stare.
I tapped him and said,“Hey killer, what’s up?
He lays a hand on my kid, and I’ll kill ‘em…”
“Whoa.
I don’t think he’s a molester, a weird dude, maybe… “I’ll tell you what.
“Steve turned, cracked a smile, and then shook his head, signaling he was backing off.
His summer barbeques were incredible.
You’re sticking around…”
We unpacked.
I grabbed another mudslide.
And then we had a very competitive game of volleyball under the lights.
We didn’t care.
At other barbeques, we played competitive whiffle ball and swam in his above-ground pool.
It was always a great time.
When our youngest son was four years old he had some very peculiar behaviors.
When someone at our dinner table burped he abruptly demanded that they sayexcuse me.
And he would keep repeating,Say excuse me!until they did.
It was annoying, so we all did it to keep him from getting too crazy.
Our entire family was invited to Steves house for dinner one Saturday night.
While my family held their collective breaths, Steves family continued eating.
Suddenly, Dylan looked up at Steve and, in a demanding tone, said,Say excuse me!
That got all the silverware to stop.
“Now, all eyes were on Steve.
Steve stared at Dylan, and Dylan stared back at him.
He stared at Dylan, trying to intimidate him, but Dylan wouldnt budge.
His kids came to our house after school on trial days.
He once asked me to take a ride to Chatham to look at a property he was renovating.
We drove down in the ‘65 Vette.
When I arrived, he was the only one there, and he let me in.
Then, he started pitching his services.
He said they did all kinds of healing massages.
He said a lot of writers, artists, and musicians bought them from him.
I listened, but all I really wanted was a fucking haircut!
Then he started pitchingcolon cleansing…
He said the average person has close to 10 lbs.
of shit lining their colon.
I didn’t know what to say.
I actually never laughed so hard in my entire fucking life, and neither had Steve.
We almost crashed the Vette…
It was only a few months later that our friendship unexpectedly came to a halt.
We weren’t hanging out much.
He was truly larger than life.
Apparently, he drifted back into his old lifestyle, and the FBI was still watching.
He was sentenced to ten years…
I recommended a friend of mine to work on his AC.
That was in 2006.
Once he was incarcerated, I started sending him articles and short stories I was writing at the time.
I sent him a new chapter weekly, and he loved it.
I gave them movie choices, andBlowwas their favorite, followed closely byPulp FictionandFight Club.
I explained to him that George’s dad was a self-employed plumber from Weymouth, Massachusetts.
It was great advice, and I owe a lot to George for that.
He injured his shoulder again, and he had minor surgery while in prison.
But then the news got worse.
Steve passed away in prison in 2012…
I received an invitation.
When I bumped into one of Steve’s sisters-in-law, I told her I was pissed.
I responded,“I thought Steve and I had something special.
And what I’m seeing here today, Steve had something special with a lot of people.
“She laughed,“If Steve loved you, he made you family.
That has always meant a lot to me.
I loved Steve like a brother, and I miss him dearly…
Donations can be made to The Carcinoid Cancer Foundation atwww.Carcinoid.org
