|
BEL AIRE-Evans, Steve 69, died in his home in Bel Aire, Ks on February 19, 2018. He was born on April 22, 1948 in Wichita, Ks, to parents Wendell and Virginia Evans. He grew up in Wichita, graduating from West High school. He worked as a gifted computer programmer for both Koch Industries and Pizza Hut Inc. He loved traveling; especially taking cruises, scuba diving, working on cars, square dancing and listening to all styles of music. He loved spending time with family, especially cooking out and doing fireworks. He was an amazing handyman who could fix and build anything, using those talents to help many friends and family. He is survived by his fiancee, Jodie Rea; brother, Rick Evans (Jan); daughter, Crystal Cole (Dan); son, Shawn Evans (Melissa) and nine grandchildren. He is proceeded in death by his parents; 1st wife, Claudia Evans; and 2nd wife, Jassendra Kent. The family will be holding a celebration of Steve's life at a later date. In lieu of flowers, donations can be sent, in memory of Steve Evans, to Give Kids the World Village, 210 S Bass Street, Kissimmee, Florida 34746.
|
Jerry NeSmith
Steve was a dear friend in the high school days and remained so until his passing. He was a loving, kind, deep thinking man of many talents. Farol and I were fortunate to have known him all of these years. He and the love of his life, Jassendra ("Jazz"), visited us in Gemany during their long trek through Europe. There we renewed our friendship. Steve and Jazz were adventurous souls! We fell in love with her. They were so compatible and kindred in spirit.
Steve lost Jazz to cancer a few years ago after a valiant fight by both of them. He fought the disease with her until the very end. She left this life gracefully and with a trail of love like I have never witnessed.
We miss her and we miss Steve so very much. The world was a sweeter place because of them.
Charles Ash
I just heard about Steve's passing from our very close mutual friend, Jerry Nesmith. A special guy who left us with many special memories. R.I.P. Steve....we'll miss you.
Charles Ash
So our old buddy Steve Evans has passed from the mortal firmament to the big Internet Cloud in the sky. Steve was a royal supreme computer geek and he might have appreciated that his soul and memories now reside in "The Cloud". Levity aside, I am compelled now to ponder Steve's life as I knew it for many fruitful years and what he meant to me. After I read the obituary I began remembering fun and adventurous anecdeotes from our young years together and I was amazed when recalling what a fun and funny and special guy he was. He was one of the very most special friends in my life from our early years at Peterson, roaming the streets of Westlink on our bicycles, then on to Hadley Junior High where we were constant companions for three years with sleepovers and assorted juvenile highjinks of mostly benign sorts. After Hadley, on to West High where we started trying to be more mature adults...mostly. From Peterson, one of my fun memories is his old pet beagle, Sarge, who used to escape home and come find Steve at recess. Sarge was just aces at the playground and I think Steve was often called to the office to get mom Virginia to come claim him. Later, Jerry Nesmith moved from Alabama closeby to Steve and across the street from Buck Breedlove. We spent fun afternoons at Jerry's working on his go-kart, or late nights trying to sneak out after the parents went to bed so we could conduct late night recon missions in the 'hood. We had frequent sleepovers at Steve's house; he was ahead of his time in the music realm and introduced us to Stevie Wonder and Booker T and the MG's doing "Green Onions". We conducted late night cooking experiments and filmed them on Steve's Super 8 movie camera. Who can forget the famous episode of "Mama Mia Makes a Pizza" with Steve wearing a red wig and sporting a stuffed bra as Mama Mia? When cars came into our lives, Steve was a few months older than us and got his license first. We borrowed his dad's brand new metallic blue '62 Impala SS to attend all the West High away games on road trips. And then drag Douglas and taunt the cool dudes from East and Southeast. Lord, we were punks and should have been whupped! Cars followed cars and I remember his '52 Lincoln that we bought for $15 and only drove it once, but what a ride that was going down Central after dark and all the lights went out and we drove home in the dark. It never ran again. Then his mom's Buick Special, and a '33 Ford hot rod, and a '55 Chevy sedan. After high school he went big-time with a new silver Plymouth Satellite, then a new red '66 Plymount street hemi, factory racing special order, then a '60 silver Corvette. The best of the bunch was that beautiful lavender '65 Impala SS. The craziest one, though, was Jerry Nesmith's '62 black Corvair Monza that we almost died in, but that's another story for another time. Steve loved to water ski and we went over to Augusta and bought a scary-fast flat bottom drag boat with a 421 Pontiac V-8. Not such a great ski boat but it would either break your arms or jump you up on skiis, depending on the driver's finesse. After graduation, Steve and I took my '56 VW convertible on a camping trip to Colorado and toured the mountains on 36 horsepower. He and I had plans to go to K-State together and get a bachelor pad in Manhattan, but he caught the computer bug that was going around and enrolled in programmer school. Then went to the IT department at Koch Industries and truly found where his spirit and mind could soar. That set Steve off to be the great IT geek that we now remember him for. Why can't we wish and wish harder and a special guy like Steve will just get healthy and come back to us? He was the guy you would want that for. In later years, he moved East and I moved West and I only saw him once 30 years ago in Colorado. Steve was a car guy when he could be way ahead of us in his knowledge of the subject. He loved music, tried a guitar, but was always a student of the art. Then he was one of the pioneers in IT from the very earliest days of IT'ing. Tonight when I'm on my knees beside my bed, I will say a special prayer for Steve and wish for him that his soul will fly, maybe dragging Douglas in his silver Corvette with Booker T on the 8 track player. R.I.P.
Jerry NeSmith
Now that my friend Charlie has weighed in, I must tell the story of how I met Charlie and Steve. I had just moved into Westlink, and it was my second day of school at Hadley. (Nineth grade, second semester.) It was my first day to catch the school bus. So I am standing at the corner and Charlie and Steve are there--total strangers to me. But they were there to help. The first bus comes along and they say "Hey, that's your bus!". So I get on, gratefully. Neither of them follow me on to the bus. Sensing something was awry, I asked the driver "Is this the bus to Hadley?". He scowls "No! I am going to West High." I disembark, somewhat confused, and see them laughing their butts off.
This was the beginning of a long relationship. When they found out that I had a go-cart, they were quickly my best buds.
Pat O'Connor
Charles--sounds like you and Steve had real American fun