Steve W. "Skip" Skipper

Steve Ward Skipper, 70, of Midwest City, Oklahoma, passed away on January 2, 2025. Born January 25, 1955, Steve spent most of his life in the home his dad built in 1948, the same house where he raised his kids, watched countless games on TV, and later took on a renovation project at retirement.
Steve is survived by his children, Stacey Praytor Freeman, Tiffany Horton and her husband, Tommy, Steven Skipper and his wife, Hannah, and Cody Skipper; his former wife and longtime friend, Louise, and her daughter, Lisa; his brother, Larry Skipper; his grandchildren, Henry Skipper, Averie Skipper, Nathan, Ivan, Faith, and Landon; and many nieces and nephews.
He was preceded in death by his parents, Marriable and Ella Jane Skipper; his brothers, David and Doug; and his sister, Linda.
Steve worked for Haskell Lemon Construction Company for 32 years and retired in 2024. He took pride in hard work and consistency, the kind that shows up every day and doesn't ask for recognition. He was stubborn to his core, a trait his sons would be the first to admit they inherited, but that same stubbornness showed up as reliability. If Steve said he'd be there, he was there.
He was gruff at times, but always present. He never missed a sporting event for his kids or grandkids and made sure everyone around him knew it mattered. From the stands or the sidelines, his voice could always be heard yelling, "C'mon, Skip!" a phrase Steven and Cody heard so often growing up that it's impossible not to hear it again now.
Steve valued routine and loyalty. Almost every morning, you could find him at Dixie Diner or Fred's Café with his longtime breakfast group, Roger, Jerry, and others. Jerry, a lifelong and loyal friend, was especially important to him, and their friendship was a constant throughout Steve's life.
When he wasn't at breakfast or at a game, Steve was watching football or westerns. He was a die-hard Oklahoma Sooners fan and a painfully loyal Dallas Cowboys fan, sticking with them no matter how disappointing the season became. And when football wasn't on, John Wayne movies were. Steve admired toughness, grit, and standing your ground, qualities he saw in the Duke and tried to live by himself. His admiration ran so deep it even inspired his son's middle name.
Steve enjoyed life simply and unapologetically. He liked things familiar, people consistent, and days predictable. He didn't pretend to be perfect, didn't soften his edges, and didn't spend much time explaining himself, but he showed up, stayed loyal, and meant what he said.
The family would also like to acknowledge Anna, the widow of Steve's brother Doug, a lifelong friend who cared for him with devotion and visited him every day toward the end of his life.
Steve leaves behind routines that feel strange without him, voices that still echo from the stands, diner tables that feel emptier, and a presence that was steady, opinionated, and always there.
He will be deeply missed.