Uncle Junie and Auntie Ann had five children… Lynn, Butch, Steve, Janie and Danny. Steve Stouffer was right in the middle of that lively bunch. He also had about 40 cousins or so, who got together from time to time for Granny Stouffer’s birthday at the old House on Cliff Drive.
Growing up in Fort Smith, Arkansas, with dogs, BB guns and a homemade swimming pool, Steve was a boy’s boy, then a guy’s guy and later a man’s man.
He was husband to Pam and father to Haley, Brian and Leslie. He was a friend, hunter, fisherman, truck driver and colorful raconteur. He was a natural-born storyteller and could spin a real good yarn, or two. Steve was a unique individual, about as close to a modern-day cowboy as you can get. He was once seen wearing cowboy boots and a cowboy hat while in a swimsuit on a beach in Florida.He was big and strong, a great baseball player and a great football player… he won a game, or two. He rode a bull, or two. He shot a deer, or two. He traveled a million miles, or two. He bent a rule, or two. He broke a law, or two… or maybe three. Steve was in a bar fight, or two. He was kicked by a mule, or two. He crashed a truck, or two… and he survived being shot, stabbed and bit by a snake once, or twice. He loved hunting and he was a great shot with a rifle. He lived quite a wild, adventurous, crazy, funny and fun life. He was loved by many, disliked by a few and he rolled with the punches that life had to offer him about as well as anyone could. Steve was a dreamer. He dreamed of finding a lost gold mine in Alaska and of discovering an important Civil War document in the mounted head of a wild boar. He dreamed of winning big horse races and of hunting a white-tailed buck or bull elk that was bigger than any he had ever seen before. He was known to gamble from time to time and he did win a big bet, or two. All in all, Steve Stouffer was larger than life as he tried his best to live his life to the fullest extent possible. He will be missed.