Stephen Hunter Buckellew, 39, passed away Tuesday evening, April 22, 2008, after a brief illness. Memorial service: 11 a.m. Friday at Roberston Mueller Harper. Memorials: In lieu of flowers, consideration of contributions to The WARM Place, 809 Lipscomb St., Fort Worth, Texas 76104, www.thewarmplace.org, in Steve's memory, is suggested. A native and lifelong resident of Fort Worth, Steve was the son of Cleveland Oren "Buck" Buckellew Jr. and Pamela Ann Hunter Buckellew. He graduated from Southwest High School in 1987 and Texas A&M University before receiving his M.S. from the University of Texas at Arlington. Steve was an intellectual with varied pursuits spanning literature, music, movies, politics, blogging, crossword puzzles, woodworking, photography, food and sports. He was also a highly talented pool player. Above all, Steve was friend to countless who will treasure the many good times enjoyed and lament the lost opportunities to share in his company. He will be deeply missed. Survivors: Steve is survived by his wife, Mary Jane Richardson; mother and stepfather, Pam and Al Esquivel; brothers and sisters-in-law, Phil and Lisa Buckellew and Bruce Hervey and Katie Barber; grandmother, Christine Wesley; parents-in-law, Jim and Ann Richardson; brother-in-law, James Richardson; and many throughout Fort Worth and beyond whom he called friends.
Published in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram on 4/24/2008.
40 comments:
I'm chained upon the face of time
feelin' full of foolish rhyme
there ain't no dark till something shines
I'm bound to leave this dark behind
I will miss you, dear friend. - K
So sorry. Did not know Steve personally, but knew him from his internet presence. My prayers are with his loved ones.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Previous poem 'Funeral Blues' Credited to W.H. Auden
The time you won your town the race /We chaired you through the market-place; /Man and boy stood cheering by, /And home we brought you shoulder-high...
Smart lad, to slip betimes away /From fields where glory does not stay /And early though the laurel grows /It withers quicker than the rose...
Now you will not swell the rout /Of lads that wore their honours out, /Runners whom renown outran /And the name died before the man...
And round that early-laurelled head /Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead, /And find unwithered on its curls /The garland briefer than a girl's
A. E. Housman
I can't get this song out of my head - I know it's you singing.
Another young man safely strummed his silver string guitar
And he played to people everywhere, some say he was a star
But he was just a country boy, his simple songs confess
And the music he had in him, so very few possess
Then there was an old man, kind and wise with age
And he read me just like a book and he never missed a page
And I loved him like my father, and I loved him like my friend
And I knew his time would shortly come but I did not know just when
Oh, Lord grant me vision
Oh, Lord grant me speed
I never met you, but sure enjoyed your writings. We'll meet again. Take care and rest peacefully. Sorry you had to go.
Steve- how ironic is it that the only person I know with enough command of the english language to help me explain how I'm feeling about you being gone is...you? thank you for the rolling stones today - I got the message.
Steve, Even though we have not seen each other in years you should know that I think of you often.
Examples of these time are:
When I hear any Van Morrison song.
Every time I watch Jeopardy.
Each time I see a Haiku.(particularly if it's about cats)
and every time I clean out my closet. I just can't throw out the shoes that you found in a grill that was left in your backyard. They just happened to fit me perfectly and you gave them to me. My Dad recently accused me of not being sentimental. He clearly is not aware of the 70s style satin platform shoes with neon flowers embroidered on the rope covered bottom part sitting in the back of my closet.
I will miss you.
SR
There are so many memories that have been flooding back to me over the past few days about Steve. I remember the first time we met in college station 20 years ago to the last time we saw each other to the last time we talked on the phone. As my wife and I traveled home after saying goodbye to Steve for the final time, we spent hours trying to sum up the feelings that we have for him. This impossible task, while cathartic, left us with nothing but a large open spot that can never be filled.
Steve was a one of a kind man that loved at a level that most people can not even approach. He was kind but biting, opinionated (with reason)- a man that seemed to know who he was and what he wanted to be: a true Renaissance Man. Although Steve and I didn't agree about everthing in this life, he showed me how to respect others and put things away for the sake of the greater good. Friendship, in our case, was the greater good and I am eternally grateful for knowing this man.
My hope for all that read this is that you are lucky enough to recognize a true gift when it is placed in front of you and treat it accordingly. Put away childish things that amount to nought. Steve showed me that by his generosity of spirit and mind.
Sleep well, sweet Prince.
RL
Buck, your voice is still echoing in my head from conversations we had years ago (these were usually one-sided as I sat slack jawed and could only come up with "... yea, I didn't think of that... go ahead and rack 'em.. want another round?").
I recall your bachelor party with fond memories. Classic Buckellew. Just a small group of guys in the rain at PK, smoking meat (which according to you was destroyed because we were starving and didn't let it rest enough. I don't think it even made it on a plate), playing over the house whiffle ball with rules made up on the spot and sharing stories. Maybe to some that might not sound like much, but how wrong they would be.
I appreciate your friendship and honored to call you my friend. Rest in peace, save me a seat at the bar and put the tab in my name.
Semper Fi
Steve,
You were obviously too young to have left this world so early. I hadn't seen or spoken with you since High School but news of your passing made it all the way to the Silicon Plantation and brought a sadness. My condolences to family and friends.
H
Below are lyrics to a song that Steve loved, and words that I think he would like you to hear.
I knew Steve, and I was his friend. I will miss him more than I can express. I have a summer looming and a pool that he will not visit. A bottle of Chivas, and cigar stubs dating back to last fall. I broke into tears late in the day of his memorial, at the Oui, steps away from the last space I saw him occupy. He was as good as he seemed, as smart as he wrote, and 'round here, we will miss him as much as you folks in the blogosphere. I have no sanction from the family, but I don't think I'm far off base when I say he was proud to have readers such as you out there. He thrived on being heard, lived to be debated, and loved to be informed. I know he thanks you for helping him through his world.
And now, the lyrics from Sunvolt's
"Tear Stained Eye"
Walking down Main Street
Getting to know the concrete
Looking for a purpose from a neon sign
I would meet you anywhere the western sun meets the air
We'll hit the road, never looking behind
Can you deny, there's nothing greater
Nothing more than the traveling hands of time?
Sainte Genevieve can hold back the water
But saints don't bother with a tear stained eye
Seeing traces of the scars that came before
Hitting the pavement still asking for more
When the hours don't move along,
Worn-out wood and familiar songs
To hear your voice is not enough
It's more than a shame
Can you deny, there's nothing greater
Nothing more than the traveling hands of time?
Sainte Genevieve can hold back the water
But saints don't bother with a tear stained eye
Like the man said, rode hard and put away wet
Throw away the bad news, and put it to rest
If learning is living, and the truth is a state of mind
You'll find it's better at the end of the line.
Can you deny, there's nothing greater
Nothing more than the traveling hands of time?
Sainte Genevieve can hold back the water
But saints don't bother with a tear stained eye
I went to school with Steve from the 2nd to the 12th grade. We lived in the same neighborhood and usually spent our after school and summer days together playing basketball or football in the front yard. It was always the usual suspects SB,PB,LB, and myself. Sometimes it involved others TC,TG,RG. I knew then what Steve lacked in athletics he more than made up with his intellect! He was one of the most creative people I have ever known. The guy in my mind was a genius. I was tight with Steve until about the 9th grade. We ran in the same circles but went different directions. I am sure that he went in the better one! I have not spoke with Steve since the end of high school and I heard the news and the world will be less without him. I hope God blesses his family in these troubled times. Godspeed on your journey!
KM
It was last Wednesday about this time when I got the news of my friend Steve's passing. The realization of the loss I feel grows with passing day. As so many folks have said, he will be missed greatly. I've worked with Steve since he joined Carter & Burgess and he occupied the office directly accross from mine. Since we truly have glass interior walls on the fronts of our offices, not a day went by when he was at work that I could not see him. Yet, we would spend hours on end Instant Messaging each other our sarcastic, witty comments across the wired network despite about 6 feet actually separating us. His love/hate relationship with his iPod was the subject of some of our fodder. Steve couldn't quite reconcile that the corporate scion that shared his first name could invent something that he found he could not live without. This yearning became even more accute when he realized that on the Carter & Burgess computer network, iPod/iTunes users could actually make public their song directories for other iPoders to listen to, even though they couldn't download the material. It was sheer joy to watch him discover what other CB'ers were listening to in the 40 story corporate complex. Dichomoties abounded, but Steve pressed on until I or some other employee using the iPod Network shutdown their computer/laptop and went home. Steve's face went dour as the hour of disconnection approached each day.
I knew Steve for but a nanosecond of his life. I attended his memorial service and got to witness the impact of his life, though brief on me, spanned his entire life and affected generations. I am reminded of the first lesson the character in Mitch Albom's great book on life/death "The Five People You Meet in Heaven", and that is "There are no random acts in life".
I am forever greatful that our paths intersected in this life and I hope that he is one of the five people I meet when I pass.
Steve,
Hearing about your death was a punch in the gut. So much minutiae and little things that pop in and out of my head come from our conversations during high school and college, and they'd entered so much into the flow of my thought that I forgot where they originally came from. Then, this weekend, everytime something came up, I remembered. Williams Jennings Bryant, Sir Walter Scott, a thousand others.
I didn't get to see you much over the last several years. Everytime was a great conversation, the last being, appropriately, at the Oui. I will indeed miss you, friend. The world is a worse place without you. I wish I'd sent you the dishwashing book while I was thinking about it. I like the semicolon; I use it all the time.
John
A time it was
It was a time
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago it must be
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left you
still missing you, dear friend....
STILL
Is it wrong that I still have your blog as a favorite and that I still check it often? I still can't believe what has happened and I'm still so saddened.
I can still hear your laugh and sarcasm and I can still remember our years in elementary, middle and high school along with our shared college and post-college experiences.
I hope you are still and at peace.
To poster above - it isn't wrong and you are not alone. I do the same, visiting here for a touchstone of sorts and to keep wishing it weren't true.
Steve is at peace, of that I am certain. It is we mortals left here to deal with the loss that must suffer.
Missing you more each passing day, Etienne. Save a seat for me at your salon. I'll have my invitation in hand when my day comes.
i thought it was just me.
i come back every so often on days like today. i read the same blog over again. in my head it's Buck's voice saying the words like it was yesterday.
Missing you so much today.
Steve - Just wanted you to know that the extra sweet black cat that crawled up on your keyboard while you were blogging in the "great beyond" yesterday afternoon was my baby. For some reason, it comforted me to know he'd be in your company in the great beyond. I know you were a cat lover too...
I still miss you in the blogging world of Ft. Worth. Although I never met you, I felt a connection thru your blog. 8/14/08
Still stopping by a few times a week waiting for the next comment. Got together with some friends this last weekend that both Steve and I had in common. Some still didn't know of his passing, still find it hard to fathom. I miss the oppurtunity to pick up the phone (not that I ever did) or have the possibility of running into him and Mary Jane at some boring party. I went to more than one such occasion just on that hope.
Steve -- Tomorrow is your 40th birthday. Here's to you having a good one in a much better place. I miss you, old friend, and visit this site often. I am comforted by my memories of all the good times from third grade right up until the last week of your tenure on this mortal coil. Wish I could take you to a birthday lunch and reprise the restaurant review. How about Creole Belle?
Toby
9/04/08
As a fellow political junkie, I was just thinking about how much Steve would be enjoying this presidential election... The Maverick and the MILF, as Bill Mayer put it. And let's not forget the recent bigfoot capture in Georgia. Still wondering where you were going with that thread... Anyway, you've been in our thoughts here in Utah, and your insight, wit, humor, and intellect are sorely missed.
Thinking of you today, stopped by the bar formally known as The Shamrock. I could still see you in the back playing pool. Wasn't the same. We miss you Buck.
Still checking back here often and thinking of you. Just don't have the heart to delete this favorite. Miss you Steve!
One year elapsed, can it be? Most days it still doesn't seem true. Still missing you, Steve.
Not missing you, at all. Wish that your friends and family who, undoubtedly, miss you in death, had observed that you were on a path of self destruction and had made a greater effort to help you. Wish you had reached out to them, instead, to try and save you from your certain, self destructive and untimely death.
Still think of you, Steve...hope Mary Jane is doing well...almost 2 years now.
seeing spam on this thread makes me sad.
Steve, I have written you letters after you died as grief counsiling I can never send now and you will never know how hard April and September are for us now.
just want to ask "was it worth it?"
Thank you Steve for being in our life
And thank you to the people remembering Steve here.
As others have mentioned, there is also some grief/anger issues here regarding April 2008.
Steve, please think back and let us know if you would have made different decisions in May 2004.
We just think that was the begining of the end and we miss you.
The people posting these attacks are cowards. Man up and show yourselves. Steve would be embarrassed for you.
Susanne
Thinking of Steve today and many days. Thoughts still with Mary Jane and Steve's family over the years. Hope all are well...
~ Ronni
Still miss you Steve...
Steve,
Remembering chicken and dumpling lunches, everything about cars and driving in high school, tossing the football and talking for hours in the front yard, the daydreams and schemes we achieved and a few outrageous things we talked of doing (and thankfully for everyone, we never fulfilled). Your brilliant, honest and fun-loving spirit lives on every time “Stairway to Heaven” is played somewhere.
Curt
Steve, thinking of you bud.
CB
Took a drive this summer evening, out to the country where you liked to take your pictures. Slobberbone got me thinking about you.
These days and times are ripe for you SB. Can’t say we need you more than now.
Grief, strung out, like a string of lights that get plugged in from time to time. Different bulbs awaken at different times. Between you and Austin, the memories light up and flicker with the ever-present fear that they’re fading. I don’t want to them to fade.
I don’t want to forget.
Slow motion sun sets will always make me remember your stillness, your smirk, and your solitude. Not loneliness, just solitude.
I can thank you now for the moments in time that we shared. I didn’t thank you enough when I had the chance.
KW
Thinking of you Steve.
CB
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