We could all spend hours talking about stories of Steve but I would just like to share a few of the fond memories I have of my brother and hope that at least some of these in some way merge with what each of you knew of him.

Some of the first memories I have were of us playing together as very young kids in the garden at Lancing, making mudpies in the summer sun. A few years later riding bikes endlessly around the caravan site where we lived for a few months in between moving to Fittleworth.

A few years later, summer holidays camping in France – days in the sea, on the beach -  relaxed, happy and boisterous. The car journeys there and back were not quite as fun for him though -  with his head out the window most of the time!

On a later caravaning holiday to Austria he was partaking in a favourite pastime of eating margarine from the tub in vast quantities with a cheeky grin and encouraging me (against my better judgment) to try some which then resulted in tears from me and off to interrupt mum and dads dinner at the restaurant!

As we grew up together the usual sibling boisterousness took place.  One year I got a dart board for Christmas from him because he had just taken up playing darts.  We generally had good fun even despite me once getting a dart in the foot for refusing to dance on his command!


We did often play nicely together, building dens up in the woods in front of the house for hours on end with Trixie the dog keeping an eye on us.

Into his teens he developed a love of walking and expeditions – Ten Tors and DofE at school and then further afield and ultimately a feat and achievement that he was hugely proud – climbing to Everest Base Camp together with Cheesy.

Which leads me on to another trait of his - creating nicknames and/or continuing to use them for decades after!  As ‘Pete the Meat’ I got away with one of the nicer ones!

As a teenager his friendships developed and with one, a love of cycling and snooker.  With Paul he would cycle miles, often down to Chichester and back to play snooker.  And when that wasn’t enough they both developed their own mini version of Pool called ‘Marble’ which they would play at each others’ houses for hours on end together with other friends.  I remember hours of laughter, jokes and music coming out of his room at weekends and school holidays.

His friendships with Mark, Henry, Si Hard and many others developed at that stage and once he got his driver’s license their friendships grew despite the white knuckle rides in his Mark II Ford Escorts to a soundtrack of The Jam, The Who and The Beatles (and a bit of ABBA 😉 when his mates weren’t in the car).

One of the best holidays of my life was for his 18th birthday which I was lucky enough to tag along on.  We hired a canal barge for a week and circumnavigated the Cheshire Ring fuelled largely by beer and sandwiches.

Shortly after he left for Uni where he met another Mark 'from Manchester' as he became known and who became another guiding figure in his life and with whom his love of motorbikes developed.

After Uni he settled in Steyning all those years ago and the road cycling turned more to mountain biking - through which he developed a massive network of friends - as was also the case with his Football playing, coaching and supporting the Seagulls, all of which he dearly loved.

I only occasionally saw glimpses of the depth of his friendships and his network here in the village and know that the likes of Richie, Noddy and Chris to name but a few were part of that network of friends he built.

It always amazed me how when I came down to see him and we’d walk around the village, he seemed to know half the people we walked past who all met him with smiles and affection.

Thinking about Steve, and what he was like, one analogy that I can think of is likening him to a bubbling pot on the stove full of feelings, information, thoughts and emotions bubbling within.

His pot was so full that some of those would continually boil over in a near constant release, whether as facial expressions, gestures or, most often, as words, an often constant stream of thought showing a window into his soul.

And I think that it was through his ability to show himself honestly and openly that in village life he continued to win over masses with his open frankness and raw likeability.

In my mind the window into his soul was never open as much as it was when he was talking about his family.  As he settled in Steyning and met Liane and as they travelled together, married and set about growing and raising their family, he became the man and the father that he grew into.

He was always deeply proud of Liane and every one of his beautiful children and he was so very proud of all of their achievements and the efforts that they each put into their lives. 

Stephen had a life richer than he could ever recognise.  At the core of it his family, friends, community and all as his own boss.

I believe that he ultimately had a strength and depth of love that he was unable to master control of.  Overwhelming love and passions that ran to the core of his deeply emotive and feeling soul.

I believe in my soul that he is now, and will forever be, peacefully watching down over us with Paul, Roy-boy and Trixie at his side and that he will provide guidance to us when we need it. And I know without a shadow of a doubt that he will remain loved and honoured in our hearts forever.

Rest in peace bro.