Sometimes people come into our lives and we know exactly where "we" want them to fit in. They snuggle in close and fit comfortably into a niche that has been created for them. Then there are others that are on the sidelines, silently cheering you on, making your life easier and never causing any conflict; simply accepting you as part of their life. When I first met Steve, it was also the first time I had met Mark (we'd been penpals for 20 years). My friend Roxanne made the journey to San Francisco with me, to help ease the tension (and to enjoy a wonderful vacation). Many times before the trip I would say, "I sure hope that Steve does not mind us coming." Our meeting was filled with a whirlwind of emotions: hugs, laughter, smiles and tears. The airport was booming with activity, collecting luggage and escaping to the privacy of the car. It was then, on the ride back to their house and our hotel that the first awkward silence began.

What I had thought would be non-stop chatter turned into a quietness that was quite noticeable...there were no pens or paper and no telephones to hide behind. Steve quickly picked up on this and took the ball and ran with it. Within moments, he had us laughing...he'd tell us a joke and his laughter was contagious. There would be few moments during the next week that he'd allow the silence to remain.

In the following days, he kept Roxie well entertained while Mark and I would drift away to some conversation from "LONG AGO". He would jaunt ahead of us, when we would go somewhere and he would make us double over with laughter as he was like a child in search of SANTA...unable to contain his excitement for whatever was around the corner. His energy level was astounding and we had to follow suit or he'd be lost in the crowd ahead of us. Our vacation really created a new extended family for me. There was no question both Mark and Steve would always be there when and if needed. NOT just for me but for all of their family and friends. Once back in Maine I would occasionally speak with Steve on the telephone; and always, I could HEAR HIS SMILE. Mark and I would continue writing, revealing our joys and our sorrows.

OUR SORROWS Our sorrows. One day, six years ago, I called them as I needed a retreat to pull myself together. There was absolutely no hesitation. I was welcomed with open arms and hearts from both of them. If Steve minded me being there for so long, he never let on. He'd make me coffee and listen to me as I tried to resolve my inner turmoil. He'd offer his opinion and suggest things to help cheer me up. There was always a silver lining and once again, I was in awe of his enthusiasm. He knew when he needed to be serious but he also knew he could play and enjoy life. Seizing the moment and savoring its memory. Again, I returned to New England and to the east coast away from their physical lives where I could not directly see Steve's anguish in fighting his illness. Mark would express his concerns and keep me posted on the emotional roller coaster that it created in their lives. I would pray that the two of them would make it through the pain. After receiving the news that Steve had died, after I cried and after the fog started to lift, I had the radio on and Dolly Parton's song "I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU" began to play. I found myself smiling for 10 years ago in one of those awkward moments of silence, Steve turned on the radio and she was singing "MY BABY THINKS HE'S A TRAIN"~and Steve would sing out loud and make up his own words...full of silly verses. He turned me on to COUNTRY MUSIC.

THEN! He made me green with envy, that summer, 6 years ago. He had a ticket to see THE THREE TENORS in concert at Dodger Stadium. I'd just begun to appreciate the classics and he reviewed the night with such detail I never knew I wasn't there. So many things, he so silently gave and shared. Too many to try and recall. BUT the greatest gift he gave was his unselfishness that allowed Mark's and my relationship to continue to flourish...never standing in our way.

In the words of the great late HARRY CHAPIN~~~
" HE SANG FROM HIS HEART AND HE SANG FROM HIS SOUL AND HE DID NOT KNOW HOW WELL HE SANG, IT JUST MADE HIM WHOLE"

All I can say now, is he's singing with the angels...riding on that train...and free of the pain.KEEP ON SINGING!!!!

With Love,
RACHEL

Steven Housel

Steven Housel, 36, of Pismo Beach died Thursday, May 25, 2000. Mr. Housel was born Sept. 21, 1963, in Heber, Utah. He grew up in Phillipsburg, Mont., where he excelled in school and in the arts. He won several Montana state music festival awards playing various instruments.

He attended Montana State University in Missoula. He then joined the Navy and was stationed in San Diego, where he became a lab technician. Later he was transferred to Moffit Field Base in Mountain View and was honorably discharged.

In 1993 he moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to Pismo Beach. He eventually started his own home-based business in San Luis Obispo County and became a successful medical transcriptionist on the Central Coast.

Mr. Housel continued to share his musical talents throughout his life. He became an accomplished singer, performing as a soloist with the SFGM Chorus at the San Francisco Opera House and with such groups as the San Luis Obispo Master Chorale in San Luis Obispo. He met his friend and accompanist, Florence "Buddy" Welles, while on the Central Coast, and they practiced regularly, performing at events and having intimate concerts for friends and family. He also loved cats and gardening.

Mr. Housel won first place in obtaining the most donations for the 1999 AIDS Support Network of San Luis Obispo. He volunteered there as a support person and formerly served as its newsletter editor. He also volunteered for many local chamber of commerce events, including the Ethnic Street Faire, as part of his commitment to the local community.

He is survived by his mother, Frankie Courtney of Phillipsburg, Mont.; his father, Jack Housel of Anaconda, Mont.; daughters Heidi and Bianca Housel of San Antonio, Texas; brothers Michael of Fort Leonardwood, Mo., Greg and Mark of Montana and Tim of San Francisco; a sister, Carrie Johnson of Stevensville, Mont.; a stepbrother, Jim Courtney of Phillipsburg, Mont.; best friend Mark Dias

of Pismo Beach; and many other friends and relatives. Memorial contributions may be made to a charity of choice.

RACHEL E. HANNA

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