<$BlogRSDURL$>

Not a cult really. But a collection of memories and tributes about Steve Manderscheid.

June 25, 2004

Fundraising update 

I am sorry that further details have not emerged before. The fundraising day is still on for Saturday 17th July - just a few weeks away! I have not received finer detail from Steve's colleagues at DC Thomson. But I will publish them when I can. Keep looking because I will be away in Ireland for 2 weeks so it might be late on. But it will go ahead, so please put this date in your diary and invite friends, Romans, and countrymen. Even if they have never heard of Steve and aren't in the cult dedicated to him!

Finally to lighten the mood I have some anagrams of Steve's name which I found amusing:

Harvests mice ended - which is ok, but secretive damn shed is better and quite appropriate!

Our Dad has a couple of good ones: exercised ham land, mexicans held dear, and mexicans heralded .

Mum too gets in on the act: chambered and rinsed, and disbanded archer men.

Thanks for your patience and hope to see you on 17th

June 01, 2004

Steve's Indian Adventure 

In early 2001, I headed to India to raise money for the NDCS, by cycling across Rajasthan. I set off on this journey alone, not knowing anyone; but by the time the plane landed, I felt I knew someone very well. For I was lucky enough to have been sat next to Steve.

We quickly realised that we had a lot in common and had shared many of the same experiences. We worked (for several years) on the same street in the same industry, we shared the same favourite band – even went to the same concert, and to the same unusual destinations for holidays. In fact, the only difference we discovered was that although we had a passion for football in Merseyside, I was Red and he was Blue. We chatted endlessly, and were like old friends before we reached India.

Cycling in India was tough. In the saddle for 10 hours a day, on very bumpy ‘roads’ and under a hot, humid sky. The NDCS provided a great support convoy. As well as guides, cooks and mechanic vans, there was a bus to transport those who felt they could cycle no more. Most days the bus was pretty full – intended for those with illness or injuries but filled mostly with fundraisers who were tired, hungover or saddle-sore.

The itinerary contained one particular day which many of us dreaded. A day which would mean cycling significantly further than any other….the long, hard day. During the afternoon before that long day, Steve got a bad dose of Delhi belly. Very bad. He tried to join us for dinner later that evening, but even a sip of water made him sick & he had to stay in bed. The next morning he looked terrible; he’d hardly slept from needing to be sick every 5 minutes. I asked him if he needed help getting on the support bus, but he said he wanted to ride. I thought he was nuts but could see he was serious. His determination was formidable. He conquered the long, hard ride on sheer will power. He hadn’t eaten a single calorie in over 24 hours, but he pushed those pedals through every kilometre. The charity intended to set us a challenge and Steve certainly rose to it….and beyond.

Back in London, we would pub lunch every week and go out regularly in the evenings: cinema, bars, parties and restaurants (and not just Pizza Express!). That summer the two of us spent a long weekend touring by bike and camping – we loved the solitude and independence the remote countryside offered us, and we loved sharing memories and secrets.

I didn’t know Steve for very long before he became ill – although he always made me feel like an old friend. I found Steve to be mature way beyond his years, very entertaining, interesting and funny. Most of all, I’d like to share the two main things that always struck me about him.
Firstly, he seemed to know something about everything and you knew that when Steve stated a fact you could bet it was completely accurate. For such a young man he was extremely well read with an astonishing breadth of knowledge.
I’ve already alluded to his second special quality. His steely determination. This was so evident when the cancer chose Steve’s body to reside in. His grit kept him positive throughout, and this positivity rubbed off on those around him. For that especially, we all admired him and, of course, will never, ever forget him.
Miss you mate.

Post from Gafyn

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?