When I'm driving on long stretches of road, mostly at night, I can't help but remember my friend Steve. From our meeting in German class, then Chess Club meetings (aka boys night out), co-ed cooking class (we'll meet girls over baked goods) and Bowling Club, then going to CSULA, Steve was that piece I was missing...adventure. He wasn't reckless, but he was a person who saw opportunities to try something at least once. He was the "bold" I was missing. Risky T.P. raids (teachers' homes), a group camping trip at age 16 in Sequoia NP with Stuart Hertel and Richard Codner...no adults,...Steve was a leader and a teacher. In 1976, while returning from my driving "adventure" in Texas, Steve and I detoured to Colorado. It was there that a driver decided to run a stop sign onto the highway were on. Within 12 hours, Steve was gone...When I think of Steve, I think of how he would have reacted to disco and maybe our first trip to Las Vegas. Would we have made it to the East Coast for the Bicentennial? Would we be trying one-up each other with salsa recipes? Would we sharing family photos over the internet today? He was the best of friends...