Share how you remember Steve

*Not written by Olivia from this post: https://bobsrosyglow.com "Recently, the Hayes family suffered the loss of one of our own, Steve Moor, Class of 1972. Steve was an extraordinary athlete as well as a scholar. One would say that he was the epitome of the “student athlete” a term which is used much too loosely today. He won first team All-City honors in his junior and senior year in both football as a quarterback and baseball as a catcher, in addition to honorable mention in basketball both years. He was also an honor student which is confirmed by his being in the honor classes his final two years at Hayes. I remember Steve as not being the typical jock, no big man on campus here. Everyone was the same in his eyes. He was a humble guy with a smile for everyone. The only time I remember seeing him without that big smile was his yearbook picture where it looked like he was doing everything he could not to smile. When I was working in White Plains, I would see Steve from time to time and I was always greeted with a handshake and left with a hug. When we talked it was like we had just seen one another the other day. Steve’s lifelong friend and rival Bill Hill (Mount St. Michael class of ’72) said it best in his eulogy of Steve: “What is the definition of a real man? ….be on your guard, stand firm in faith, be a man of courage, be strong and do everything in love. This is the perfect personification of a man name Steve Moor.” He went on to say: “I can go on and list all the great athletic achievements he accomplished but why waste the time. We all know what an unbelievable talent he was.” I have to agree with Bill, it is much more important to discuss the man he was and had become. Just reading Steve’s obituary tells this story.  A loving husband and a doting, caring and loving father. Just as important, he became a pillar of his church and community. I have to say I would not have expected anything less from Steve. https://obits.nola.com/us/obituaries/ncadvertiser/name/stephen-moor-obituary?id=55414916 My friend’s son-in-law who worked with Steve at Combe upon hearing about his passing sent me this ditty: “Steve was a great person, always nice and made you feel he was an old friend. Here is a story about him I thought you would enjoy.” “Steve attended the NACDS meeting in San Diego.  Combe had former NFL Quarterback Joe Theismann at Combe’s booth signing footballs (JFM spokesperson). At the lunch break, as the massive convention center started to empty, Steve and Joe started tossing a football back and forth. The two QBs started to attract a crowd and Joe started to escalate the passes. He put some heat on one showing off his NFL arm. Steve caught it and with just a flick of his wrist returned the football back to Joe with some of his own heat. The ball went through Joe’s hands and smacked him in the face.  Quite the athlete! God Bless Steve and his family.” He might not have been the most famous person or greatest athlete who graduated from Cardinal Hayes but I am most certain that anyone who met Steve during his lifetime would say he was the most memorable. Knowing this and having the privilege of calling him my friend gives me that feeling that Cousin Bob would call that …..Rosy Glow!" Joe Theisman sent Steve a letter afterwards!

What do I do? How do i get through this? I don't know how. It's pretty much all I thought for days after Dad's spirit left this earth. It's somehow been a couple weeks and I still don't know. I know I'm going to make it - because not making it would mean going against everything my dad instilled in me. I will rely on his strength. Most of my time is spent remembering him, learning about him through the things he left behind, and what so many have shared about him. My dad was a learner his whole life, reading articles, listening to doctor radio on Sirius XM, taking his notes in his planner on how to better himself. So I'll keep learning. At some point, I've had to start doing again. I have to force myself to DO something everyday to work my way back to functioning. My dad was a doer. That's what we all remember, him doing. Everything he saw needed to be done he did - everywhere he went. Sometimes, it wasn't necessary. I called him once about needing a coffee table at my apartment (I was going to look online for one and buy it). Before I could hang up he was in the garage, building me one. My mom told him not to (she was ready to look on facebook marketplace) but he just kept building for me. He was determined to save me money, to make something nice for me. Even when it was done and gorgeous he wouldn't let it rest - wanted to touch up edges he saw as imperfect. It crushes me to think of that. That I've lost someone who'd do that for me, who loved me so so so much. And that he did things like that for us consistently - it always meant so much. That he was always caring and thinking about us. Oh Dad, you're the best. Maybe making this website isn't necessary - but I'm doing it anyways. I just want to do everything in my power to do something nice for him. And work my way up to being a true doer like he was. Olivia, Andy and I are all trying really hard to do for him and my mom. For her birthday we made a metal plaque for her in honor of the garden (both literal and metaphorical) they've grown together. and GOD Dad would have thought it was the coolest thing ever - he would have sent pictures to all his friends and been so proud of andy and us for it! That stings a lot to remember. Now, we'd do anything to make sure Mom knows we're going to be here, DOING for her forever. That maybe that can make it a little easier? There's no easy. I want him back so badly that everyday I want to throw a tantrum. I think sheer force of wanting and love could pull him back from beyond - there can't be anything more powerful. Except he's there, in my mind, telling me to do. To keep going. To keep my head down and keep working, and everything is going to work out. Dad's life wasn't all fun and laughs and joy - he had hard work, pressures and burdens that weighed on him. I shouldn't complain too much about how this will burden me, I just have to think of grief and finding my way out as something I'm doing for him. Hopefully the bad creates some good, even if happiness will never quite be the same or as complete - one day it'll be just as wonderful as it used to be.

We were stunned to read the notice nice pak sent out about our father's passing. It's incredible to read what others thought of him and was wonderful to hear from his coworkers about how he made them feel, gave them someone to talk to, brightened their day.