Thursday, January 4, 2024
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Anyone who knew Stephen John Cole knew his inner light burned strong.
Aptly-named after his maternal grandfather (Carbonear Newfoundland ocean-going Master Mariner Captain Stephen Penney), Steve's commanding personality was often compared to "the Skipper" in our family.
Strong. Tough. Resourceful. Funny. Dedicated. Passionate. Hard-working. Proud.
The youngest of three boys, Steve naturally made it his mission from the time he could walk and talk to be as good or better at everything and anything his older brothers did.
For example, when I played house league minor hockey, Dad would buy me a modestly-priced hockey stick in the fall and tell me I had to make it last the whole season. This was never a problem, because I wasn't much of a hockey player (and neither was David).
Years later, when Steve was playing High School Hockey in Pictou County, Dad called to ask me to "come for the weekend and talk to your brother Steve about the price of hockey sticks" ...he was breaking those fancy white Wayne Gretzky model Jofa sticks pretty much every game, often in hard play, corner skirmishes or over the boards after a penalty call.
"Talking to Steve" trips always somehow (?) resulted in his borrowing my old Cordoba 360 V8 on Saturday nights, which of course was always returned with no gas in it. Decades later, he told me with that big smile of his that he used to make $300 on Saturday nights drag racing my car at the old Trenton airfield.
Steve always worked harder than most people at everything, whether it be high school hockey, university rugby, the world of business or being a son, husband and father.
Steve would move heaven and earth at the drop of a hat for others, especially Liz, Jillian and John and rarely if ever did anything for himself.
His flame burned very, very strong. I could tell stories about my little brother's adventures in living all day every day for the rest of my life and never run out of material.
Though his time with us was far shorter than those of us who knew and loved him hoped for, let's also remember that Stephen John Cole packed more life, love and laughter into his 59 years than most people ever will.
So...whenever you ever find yourself running low on your personal supply of Carpe Diem...just remember Steve and you'll be up and at'em in no time.
Rest In Peace, Steve.
Winston & Eva Cole
