Steven R. Kimball

I met Steven in 1977 when his sister Jennifer and I began dating. He had a great sense of humor. During a picnic in his mother's driveway, I squeezed a clogged mustard bottle so hard the cap flew off, splashing mustard all over Steve's shorts. Instead of getting angry, he went in the house, took off his shorts, and returned to the picnic in his boxers. We still talk about that one.