Book: Robbie Block

  It's next to impossible to define who Steve Dantzker was.  Calling him "the cool dad" would leave out all the intricacies and nuances that made him such a fascinating person, and one of the most intricate people I have ever had the fortune to meet.  When thinking of Steve, one moment jumps out at me in particular, and while it was probably one of the most run of the mill, everyday interactions, which I doubt Steve would even recall, I think it serves to show who he was as a person, or at least one side of his unique personality.

  It was the summer after our first year of college, and Nick and I were arguing over which would be better, the ability to run as fast as you wanted, or the ability to fly 5 feet above the ground.  After talking our way in a circle, Steve came down from the attic, and without even hesitating threw his hat into the ring, informing us that the decision was clearly the ability to run as fast as you wanted and we were foolish to think otherwise.  And as always, that was that.  He was right.  

  

  Steve had the ability to be an authority on all matters.  From the dumb and mundane to the elaborate and interesting, Steve always seemed to have an answer, and the answer always sounded right.  Whenever he spoke, which always seemed too rare, I blame the headphones, I was immediately riveted to what he would say next, as the way he saw the world was just so damn interesting, and his insights so informative.  Be it talking movies or comparing Zombie defense strategies, a conversation with Steve always felt like a blessing to me, and for that I am eternally grateful to have known him.

So in the end, how would I define Steve Dantzker?  As my friend's dad.  As a man that will be missed by many but forgotten by non.  And most importantly, as my friend.