Steve the Hero

In the few years I’ve known Steve, we’ve created countless memories that have become favorites. So I will tell about the time that Steve became my hero.

In December 2004, we took our first road trip together to see the Utes play in the Fiesta Bowl. We embarked on this pilgrimage with the Loutensocks down Highway 89, which proved to be somewhat of a mistake (the road, not the companions). Once we were about twelve miles south of the Utah / Arizona border, we abruptly hit a traffic jam! As luck would have it, on this two-lane highway in the middle of nowhere, a horrible car accident jammed up the road for at least a dozen miles in either direction.

The first hour passed quickly as we were surrounded by good company and good conversation…but I became a little uncomfortable because I had to go to the bathroom. Venturing into the quickly darkening landscape was entirely out of the question. Hundreds of people were stuck in this traffic, and many began getting out of their cars since our vehicles were literally parked on the highway. I couldn’t and wouldn’t just go outside. There wasn’t a gas station for at least 50 more miles, and the road wasn’t even clearing up for us to drive those 50 miles. Another hour passed and I knew I couldn’t bare it much longer…what would I do?

About forty-five minutes later I told him I now really really needed to go, and just couldn’t hold out much longer. Suddenly he thought of a solution. He walked me to a motorhome parked a few cars ahead of us, checked the plates, and noted they were from Utah “so naturally they’re Ute fans,” he reassured me. “And any Ute would help out a fellow Ute fan under circumstances such as this.” I cringed as Steve knocked on the trailer door. The situation reminded me all too well of a similar scene from the movie Two Weeks Notice where Hugh Grant helps Sandra Bullock find a toilet inside a stranger's motorhome when they were stuck in traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge. But this was not a movie; it was really happening. The camper door opened, and sure enough all the occupants were decked out in red Ute gear. Steve gently mentioned that his girlfriend needed to use the restroom and kindly inquired whether they would be willing to let me use theirs. They laughed and invited us in. Just a minute or two later when I came out of the restroom, I found Steve telling the family some crazy story of his – and they were hanging on his every word. He had worked the Steve Davis magic on them, and his quirky charm had won their admiration, and mine. He was my new hero!

Happy Brithday, Honey! Thanks for letting me share the next 30 years + forever with you!