For days I struggled to tell the story of Steve’s life and do it the justice it deserves. I was afraid I couldn’t find the words to express what a funny, feisty, stubborn, generous man he was. His fight in his last weeks of life were a true testament of his strength.
Steve was born July 15, 1938, in a small town in Hungary. In January of 1957, while Hungary was in the middle of a revolution, he decided to leave the country. He knew it would be dangerous, but Steve being Steve, didn’t give it a second thought. The story of his escape is incredible and can be found in a thoughtfully narrated story by him. If anyone wishes to have a copy, they can let me know.
Steve paved his own way in life. Whether you knew him as Steve, Stevie, or Pista, he was the exact same guy to all of us. Despite living in Canada for decades, his strong Hungarian accent never left him.
He lived a full and vibrant life of which his countless friends were a huge part of. As many knew, a night of hanging out with Steve would mean a hangover the next day. Steve jumped at any opportunity to help family and friends when needed. His door was always open. The emotion on Steve’s face was evident when speaking of his family. You could often find him choking back a tear.
When Steve first moved to the lake, he traded his freshly caught fish for any cabbage rolls he could find. After a time, he became quite famous for his own cabbage rolls, often switching up the recipe. When we found a bag of cabbage rolls hanging on the doorknob, we knew he had stopped by.
Steve loved to tell stories, some of which were unbelievable, but who could even make this stuff up. Of all the people he met, both willingly and unwillingly, everyone loved him and remembered him!!
Steve was always active doing things he enjoyed. He loved to fish, go boating, garden with Julia, go for early morning walks, watch Hungarian movies, have coffee at the junction with his friends, jump in the truck with Brian and Blaine for a work cruise, and tinker around the cabin. One of his favorite spots was the hotel at Bird’s Point which he frequented daily for a coffee, scotch, or a meal.
Steve was never concerned about keeping his fridge and cupboards stocked but you could always find a bottle of Scotch in the freezer, beer, and bacon in the fridge, and paprika in the cupboard, the Hungarian necessities.
Steve’s signature look was a t-shirt, jeans, and quite often a ball cap. He always carried his wallet, which he lost on a few occasions, but also felt the need to have some loose cash in his jean’s pocket just in case there was a kid who needed some money for a treat.
I think almost every car Steve bought was a lemon. Brand new or used, it always seemed to have issues. The “check engine” light was a recurring theme.
We always had a pet growing up. You could often find Steve pet sitting for friends and family. He loved animals and always had a special place in his heart for them.
Steve was an accomplished traveler. If you were fortunate enough to go with Steve on one of his many trips (adventures) you were bound to have many stories.
After arriving in Canada, he became employed at IMC where he remained working until his retirement. Stockholm was Steve’s home for years where he lived with his mom and nieces, then in later years his wife Julia, until her passing. He found his little heaven on earth, his oasis at Round Lake, SK where he resided until his stroke in 2018. He then moved to the Esterhazy Centennial Care Home. We would like to send out a special thank you and our deepest appreciation to the wonderful, caring staff who always treated Steve with dignity, caring, and respect.
We are grateful that Steve is finally at peace. He will be dearly missed by his Canadian and Hungarian family and friends. In honor of Steve, please raise a glass of your favorite beverage in his honor.
Charity of one's choice