Steven J. "Trainer" Horton

I would like to share some of my memories of my brother, Steven, with you. I am writing this Life Story so that you may read my experiences with him, but also so that you could share yours with me.

From the time Steve was a child, my Mom and Dad would tell stories about how mischievous he was. Stories included Mom and Dad telling Steve not to go near the porch stairs while he was riding his tricycle. Not a minute after he was told not to do it, there he was going down the stairs. Another time while we were living in Cranston, Rhode Island, Steve and my grandmother got lost while going for a walk one day and were found in the local drug store. Who do you think lead the way on that adventure?

When Steve turned 6 years old, our family moved to New Britain, Connecticut, and he started the first grade at Chamberlain Elementary. Even though he didn't excel at bookwork in school, he impressed teachers with other talents (like running projectors or anything mechanical), especially one teacher in particular – Miss Fields. I can still remember her coming over the house for dinner a few times to take the extra time and provide Steve with the encouragement that really helped him through these years.

If you could imagine, Steve was an altar boy at the church we belonged to, and was very loyal to his duties. During one terrible snow storm, Steve was scheduled to help with the Sunday mass and he felt his obligation that day was to be there. So my Dad drove him to church and Steve and the priest were the only people in Mass that day. This is how Steve lived his life; if he made a commitment, he followed through – no ifs, ands or buts about it.

During the summer of 1975, our family drove to Florida and Disney. I remember pulling out of the driveway in our station wagon like it was just the other day. Steve and I sat in the backseat and, at one point, our parents divided the back seat so that we would not go on each other’s side. I remember saying Steve was on my side and him replying that he was on my side first. We made a few stops along the way, one being at our Aunt and Uncle’s house in East Dublin, Georgia. We went to country stores and bought coke (in bottles) out of the old fashioned coke machines. We also rode in the back of my Uncle's pickup truck, walked together to watch the softball game down the street, and met some girls that lived across the pond and jumped on their trampoline. Disney was fun; however, Steve was the more adventurous one, trying most of the rides he could go on. (His favorite rides at the local fairs we would visit were the rotor in which the floor would drop sticking you to the wall and the Roundup).

As he went into middle school, Steve and I grew apart because, like siblings usually do, we had different interests. I remember a story of Steve playing little league baseball like it was yesterday. Steve was at bat and he hit a fly ball to left field that appeared to be a home run, but little Lenny Murtha stuck his glove up over the fence and caught that ball. Steve really wanted that hit to be a home run!!! That is the end of my sports stories about him, except I would like to say that he was a diehard Washington Redskins Fan.

Steve was also my protector in middle school. If some older kids would try and pick on my friends and me, as soon as they heard I was Steve's little brother, that would be the end of that!!! Even though we didn't spend that much time together at this time he would still look out for me.

Our family shared a cottage with my Uncle Norm, Auntie Grace, cousins Donna and Diane at Hammonasett State Beach in Madison, Connecticut. I remember riding our bicycles to the beach, to the camp ground and to a river that had a rope swing. What a blast we had during these vacations and weekends at the beach. Steve would be on his bike for hours.

At this time in his life, Steve was working on a farm with his friend and later his godfather Jody Valitsky. He would ride his bike, which he called "Silver Steak" to and from the farm. Jody was like a big brother to Steve, and he followed Jody to Southington Vocational High School to study forestry, but he later transferred to E.C. Goodwin Technical High School to focus on carpentry. Steve loved to work with his hands and easily became a very good carpenter.

Steve owned a VW Beetle at the time and would drive to school with his friends that he picked up everyday. He really enjoyed that car, tooling around who knows where and with whom. I was lucky enough to find some pictures that he took of it while he was at the beach.

He then transferred to New Britain High School for his senior year and would drive myself and another friend to school. I was a sophomore and Steve was a senior. I even had the privilege to have him in my drafting class that year. I sat in back of him and enjoyed working with him on some projects and laughing together at corny jokes. He took me to my first concert which was Frank Zappa at the Hartford Civic Center and I had a blast with him and his friends.

Steve graduated from New Britain High School in 1982 and worked at Finast supermarket. He had gotten rid of his VW and owned a van which he partied in a lot with his friends. I didn't realize it at the time, but he knew he was hanging around with some people that were not good for him and that would later end up in trouble with the law. So, he enlisted in the Army in 1985. I believe with all my heart that this was the best decision Steve could have made. He was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri. He learned discipline, and even got in very good shape. I remember him writing letters to me while I was in college that he was even running 3-4 miles every other day voluntarily. When my mom and dad went to see him after basic training, he was standing in front of my mom and she was looking all over for him until he said, "Mom, I'm right here." She didn't even recognize him.

Then, he was sent to Germany where he learned how to drive tractor trailers. (I remember when we were young and we would go over to a friend of my parents who drove a tractor trailer (a Mack) and Steve would look through his truck magazines saying "I would like to drive these one day.") He traveled around Germany with the friends that he met and he was very interested in the castles that he saw. I even found some pictures that were taken of him with his friends visiting one of the castles.

As Steve ended his time in the Army in 1989, I was graduating college and starting to work. I didn't know what I really wanted to do for a career, but Steve knew exactly what he was going to do – Drive! So, he went to work for Schneider Trucking (you may recognize the trucks because they are orange); not local driving, but long haul trucking. I know my Mom and Dad worried about him, and so did I, but I knew that he could do it. In 1989, he was in California while the earthquake in San Francisco happened. What an experience that was for him. As time went on, he knew that Schneider wasn't paying him enough, so he went to work for Millis Transport out of Black River Falls, Wisconsin (I don't know the story of how he ended up at this company, which is something I should have asked him). He worked for Millis as an employee driving a company truck for 6 years averaging about 120,000 miles a year. As an employee of Millis, he almost always earned a quarterly safety bonus.

I think it was 1993, when Steve quit smoking. He was really proud of himself that after so many years of sparking up he quit. Once he finally stopped he never picked up another cigarette. In 1992, he bought his (at the time) pride and joy. He came home with a Harley Softail Classic. I remember Steve showing me the Harley magazine and pointing to the bike that was painted turquoise and white, saying “I am going to own this.” How he loved his Harley – he would ride it then polish it and buy something new for it every time he was home. Nothing would compare to a Harley in his eyes and "if you rode a Japanese bike…you rode a rice burner."

At this time I moved to Florida with my wife Bari, and the transition of living in a place in which I didn't know anyone was very hard. I had a difficult time at this point in my life and I remember the support I received from all of my family and friends. I can remember my big brother offering his support and ear anytime and this meant a lot to me. I just wonder if he knew how much I appreciated his help at the time? He was also starting to walk in the parking lots of truck stops and was losing weight. In our conversations, I would tell him to keep it up, and one time he said that other drivers would look at him like he was crazy and he would keep on walking. At one point, he lost about 75 lbs., but then was diagnosed with sleep apnea. He went through several sleep tests and surgeries to help him breathe while he was sleeping and fell out of his routine of walking which he never returned to.

Also, during this time at Millis, Steve and some of his friends would go on skiing vacations that would last for a week. There are some pictures of Steve and his friends skiing and I asked his friend if Steve ever fell. The reply was Steve was pretty good at skiing for a big guy, but when Steve fell the mountain shook. During one of these vacations, Steve also tried snow boarding which he liked better that skiing.

I admire him for trying most everything, but one of the things I am most proud and have the utmost admiration for my brother was when he decided to buy his own rig – Kenworth. He had it painted the same color as his Harley and also had someone create a design for him which was painted on the hood. This was his new pride and joy. To come up with a down payment, he took all of his 401k money that he had with Millis and put it on the truck. Owned and flown by Steve Horton was created.

With this new independence, Steve was able to get home to Connecticut to see his mom, family, and friends more often. Even before he would stop at Mom’s house, he would stop at his favorite restaurant, Tom’s Pizza. The funny thing is that Tom's was around the corner from Mom’s and he would call her and say I'm coming home but I had to stop at Tom's first. The reason it was his favorite place was because of the people that worked there. They are really nice people and Steve cared a lot about them because he mentioned Tom's all the time and how they hooked him up with Stomboli.

A thought just came to me, so I figured I would write it down before I forget it. One time, Steve brought home a couple of cases of yellow napkins that he gave to the entire family to share and every holiday for years these napkins would show up on the table (an inside joke. but I thought I would share it).We have long run out of those napkins but the story of them will last forever.

In speaking with him a number of times regarding business, Steve was way ahead of me when it came to things we discussed. He had already set up certain accounts and billing procedures. I was impressed with his business sense.

I believe Steve worked for Millis another 1-1/2 years before he left to work for Cook Moving, a franchise of United Van Lines. At the time he started, he was a very busy driver and was awarded numerous times for his output. This allowed Steve to get home to Connecticut even more, which I know he really enjoyed and so did Mom. She looked forward to him coming in and would cook dinner and just hang out with him.

This move to United also allowed Steve to come to Florida and visit my family and I. The first time he came by, he spent a long weekend with us and we enjoyed having him. During this time Steve and I became really close, and for the first time in a very long time we clicked. We showed him around Naples and we ended up on the subject of life after death, psychics, reincarnation, and Feng Shui. From this discussion, I knew Steve very much believed in life after death and coming back as someone or something else. He also was very educated on most every subject (from politics to house building). We discussed and he surprised me with his knowledge of Feng Shui as he talked in detail with Bari. With all of the traveling around the country, the talk radio shows he listened to, and the channels on TV he watched (History, Learning and Discovery), he was very worldly and confident in his ability to speak on all subjects. We went to one of the local parks and he pushed our daughter Olivia on the swings and watched her run around the playground. He always wanted to buy her a swing set for her but living in the area wasn't very conducive.

On another trip to Florida, he was able to come to Naples again and this time it was in December. He couldn't believe how hot it was at this time of year and said it didn't feel like it was close to Christmas. We all went shopping and Steve bought Olivia a small Christmas tree which I will keep forever. He helped us put lights up outside the condo to make it festive and colored with Olivia for the longest time. I am really glad that he made it down to visit us and have time to spend with Olivia.

He made it to Naples twice more and I helped him deliver a household load in Ft. Myers and a Mercedes in Marco and we shared a few laughs. I even got him to try sushi and he liked it. The next time he came down, we ordered sushi again, and Steve had his own tube of Wasabi sauce (He loved his hot sauce!). On all of his visits to Naples when he had to leave, we gave each other a hug and he would say, "I love you little brother." I will never forget his visits as I think about them often. Sometimes, I see a United Van Line truck and trailer and it seems like yesterday he was here and was following me to park his rig.

Bari, Olivia and I went to Connecticut for the holidays in 2000 and we shared our last Christmas with Steve. Every time we came to Connecticut, he was there to pick us up making sure he came home from driving so that he could see us. One day during the holidays, Steve and Oliva sat in the den at my Mom’s house and talked, watched TV, and played. Olivia loved it and I think she was amusing Steve as much as he was amusing her.

The last time I saw him was in August of 2001. This was a sad occasion as our Uncle Norm had passed away. My Mom told me of Steve coming home for two weeks to spend as much time with Uncle Norm as he could. Even though he didn't show it on the outside often, Steve was a very compassionate person. One of our neighbor’s parents passed away (Steve didn't see this person for 15 years) and when Steve ran into him the first thing that Steve did was to offer his condolences to him. Steve would think about the other person before he would think about himself. He would call me every couple of weeks and we would talk about the states he had gone through. He would share his experiences at the loading docks and make me laugh. I still can hear him say when I answered the phone, "Dude, what's up?" We also talked about the radio stations he would listen to and his interest in radio host Art Bell. He was on a mailing list to receive newsletters that Art Bell wrote and I found a book in his truck written by him. I am in the process of reading this book so I can better understand some of the ideas Steve so strongly believed in.

I remember the last time I spoke to him, I put him on speaker phone so that my daughter, Olivia, could talk to him. They asked each other what each was doing and that they missed each other. I am glad that she was able to speak with him one last time. I will miss these phone calls, but I continue to speak to him everyday. I realized that Steve and I were very different but deep down inside we were very much the same. He loved to be around family and friends as I do and he was a very caring person. When we would gather with family for holidays, and I never knew what Steve would come out with at the dinner table. Sometimes, it was embarrassing. I later realized that this was Steve, and he would put on this act in front of a crowd (even family) and that he wasn't going to change for anyone. He was an individual that when it came down to it, would give you the shirt off his back at the drop of a hat.

I wish I could have met some of his friends before his passing, as I know that he would have loved to have had all of us together to party and to get to know each other. It was amazing to see the number of people that paid their respects to him. People that he didn't see for many years. A person that found out an hour before his wake and dropped what they were doing and drove an hour to be there. A person that drove from Indiana all night and knocked on my Mom’s door at 7:30 a.m. on Tuesday, August 13, 2002 (the day to pay last respects). The people that met him only once at his friend’s wedding a month prior. A trucker that met six months prior (again only once) that came by my Mom’s house to pay his respects. This is the kind of impression that Steve made on people – one that is everlasting and meaningful. He was one of a kind and I loved him for that. I think about him everyday, and have my sad moments, but also laugh at some of the things he said and did. I am so grateful that he was (and still is) my brother and that he will be with me forever as long as I have these memories.

I Love You Steve,

Your little brother.