I first met Steve back in the late 1980’s.  He was at College with my brother Dom, and I met him probably at the Jubilee pub in Norwich along with Rod Kelly and Matt Southern at the same time.  Steve and I had an instant connection as he was a keen golfer and I was just getting into it at that time.  We started playing regularly together at Sprowston and then later at Barnham Broom.  Steve was always a classy golfer having started as a junior and having lessons at an early age, & he looked the part with all the latest gear.  One of Steve’s best qualities was his sense of humour, he always loved a joke.  I’ve lost count of the times I have literally cried with laughter over one of his stories, he was very much in the mould of his Dad, Donny.  Early on we all used to go every year to Caister Hall for the New Year’s Eve parties, which were always fancy dress.  Steve loved his motorsport and in particular F1 and one year he decided to go as the F1 champion Nigel Mansell.  He got himself a little red boiler suit and gave himself a small moustache & he was all set for the party.  Unfortunately, on the night, people kept coming up to him and asking him if he was Super Mario rather than Nigel Mansell, so he was a bit put out! 
When Steve found himself looking for a job, I managed to get him a temporary one in the factory at Hi-Span before he moved to the drawing office at H Young Structures, where he became a popular member of the team.  He was very quick to adapt to the new CAD machines and later became a Senior CAD technician in the office and stayed with us for 28 years.  Most days Steve and I would walk together at lunchtime, just to get out of the office for some fresh air.  We would talk about everything, but mostly family, friends, and golf.  He was so proud of his family, of Kelly, and his boys, Zach and Jude.  The Parkinsons diagnosis was cruel, but even though the illness took hold, there were still signs of the old Steve underneath.  The jokes were always there, and we kept up the lunchtime walks.  He faced up to the illness with humour, and that’s how I am always going to remember Steve, with a smile.  I’m going to miss you mate.