Edited by author 11-06-2006 02:06 AM
Here are my remarks from the Steven P. Medley Memorial:

I’m Ron Rosen. I’m a law school buddy of Steve’s from U.C. Davis. I live in South Pasadena near LA. First, I want to thank the people of Oakhurst for making me feel at home here. You have a Vons, a Longs Drugs, a True Value Hardware, a Blockbuster Video, a McDonalds, a Carl’s Junior, a Jack In The Box, a Del Taco and two Starbucks. If I don’t look up at the mountains or breathe too deeply, I can think I’m still in LA. So thank you for that.

Steve Medley will always be one of my favorite people ever. I often thought about him and I often told people stories about him. One of my favorite things about Steve was his annual Winter Letter, which sometimes came in the spring. I saved them and here are a few selections:

From the winter of 1990, arrived in spring 1991:

“Before we get into the juicy person-by-person narratives, here are some ‘teaser’ highlights of the year: Joey broke his finger in a soccer game; the skunk moved back into our garage for a month or two; somebody backed into our basketball hoop’s pole and really bent it; Steve brewed his first batch of Magpie Ale in years; and acorn woodpeckers have placed in excess of 65,000 acorns under the shingles at the edge of our roof. Can’t wait to read more, huh?”

From the winter of 1991, arrived in spring 1992:

“We thought our friends would be envious when we told them about our spring schedule this year. You see, all three of the Bozo Brothers are playing Little League baseball (the first time that’s happened.) The other night, we got out the calendar and wrote in all the dates and times. Exclusive of practices and exhibition games, we get to attend 43 (count ‘em, 43) Little League games this season (assuming nobody qualifies for the playoffs.) Don’t bother dropping by on April 28 – it’s a triple header! Three games in three different towns. Or how about the week that features five games in five nights? If you were wondering how we get our jollies, need we say more?”

From 1998:

“Jane (she’s the short one) had a dream realized this summer when we installed a swimming pool in the back yard. At once, Oakhurst was transformed from an insufferable, overheated hell-hole, to an insufferable, overheated hell-hole with a pool.”

From Herb Caen, August 5, 1980. Steve was known to Herb as the Prince of Gilroy:

“Several whimsical visitors wish to know if GGNRA is a social disease. Right. Amusing, but the initials, to be found at several of our choicest tourist sites, stand for the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, of course. Or do they? [Now remember, this is 1980.] One of my favorite correspondents, who signs himself the Prince of Gilroy, thinks GGNRA means, “Good God, Not Reagan Again!”

Steve, I’ll never forget you, buddy.

An article about the Memorial appears at http://www.fresnobee.com/263/story/11337.html

Ron Rosen
ronsopas@earthlink.net

Although we could not be at the memorial service for Steve, the staff of APPL would like to publicly express our deepest sympathy to the Medley family and the staff of the Yosemite Association. Steve's unique viewpoints and sense of humor will be missed tremendously at any APPL gathering. He always provided a fresh perspective and often an irreverant outlook on the issues faced by public land partner organizations. Attending an event where Steve would be present, trading e-mails on APPL issues, and any interaction with Steve made the work feel like play. We'll miss you, Steve. We'll toast your memory and share some laughs for you in Sacramento this March.

Donna Asbury, Amy Matthews, Nancy Kotz, & Krista Muddle

I was unable to attend the Memorial Service for Steve on Saturday, and my heart longs for the comfort of being with the people I have grown to consider my Yosemite family, and to offer my loving embraces back to them.

Not long after I met Steve my 15-year-old son, Ian, died in a freak motorcycle accident. In my memories of that ocean of grief Steve's genuine concern and compassion for me were one of few meaningful lifelines. We were new acquaintances brought together by business. Family and long-time friends were less able to reach me than Steve. I never told him how important those brief exchanges were -- simple acts of kindness that included a kind glance, well-chosen words, and soothing tone of voice -- as I sleepwalked through those days, months, years. I send my love and heartfelt sympathy to Jane, their sons, and the YA staff.

I've just returned home from my journey to Yosemite to attend Steve's memorial. And what a glorious day in Wawona and a tribute that so beautifully honored and celebrated the short but very full life of Steve. I feel compelled to add some words to the many others whose lives have been touched by Steve.

From the very beginning of moving and launching myself into freelance design Steve was my first client who, not even knowing me, gave me such a wonderful opportunity. (This was due in large part to Robin Weiss, who, as a designer and extremely generous friend recommended me to Steve.) Steve was impossible to refuse, but I never wanted to. The beauty of non-profit work for national parks is that it does have a far nobler reward. Steve was always so appreciative and let you know how much a job well done and on time meant. His humor never ceased to elevate my day immeasurably whenever he called. I'll miss those conversations.

He was a giant in his field to me. He has given so many different designers, illustrators, photographers, cartographers and writers such rich and original projects. He was a mentor in many ways and I admired his vast knowledge and talent. He gave those of us with lesser known name recognition great opportunity and I'll always be grateful and proud to call YA a client.

I'll miss Steve always and try and always remember how far humor can take you!

Sandy Bell, Springdale, Utah

The Driftwood Bird

When I found it on the beach, I stuck it in the buggy with the baby, later
pushed them both home in the thin February sun. The cocker spaniel ran
along beside us, making an occasional wild dash toward the sea gulls
scavenging in the sand. When the baby learned to walk, we had to get rid of the dog, because it bit him on the face. Later we had to let the baby go, too, because first he entered college, then grew up and left home for good.
I still have the driftwood bird, have moved it from home to home for over
fifty years. It sits on a shelf, its wooden Pinocchio beak sticking out
into the living room. I suspect most of my visitors wonder why I keep this ancient souvenir, treat it as a guest of honor. To me it is a symbol, as the dried camellia corsage from her junior prom is to a romantic girl. When I look at the bird, it’s 1950 again, and we are living on the Oregon coast,
high above the Pacific Ocean. I kiss my husband goodbye in the morning as he leaves to teach at the high school in Tillamook. Later I shape the towel into big rabbit ears, as I dry the baby’s head after his bath. I sing to him from The Fireside Book of Folk Songs before his nap. His face lets me know his favorite is the one about Dublin’s fair city, so we have that one every day. In the afternoon, if the weather’s in a good mood, we go down to the beach where we found the bird. Later, when my husband comes home, he lifts the baby to his shoulders and gallops him around the house, or, if the baby is teething and fussy, sings “Beer, Beer for Old Willamette U” to help him fall asleep. Watching them, I’m convinced life at that moment is beautiful, as beautiful as it gets. Today, looking at the driftwood bird, I know that I was right.

I visited Yosemite for the first time in March. Steve went out of his way to give our small group from John Muir’s Birthplace, Dunbar, Scotland a very warm welcome to the YA Spring meeting. Our thoughts are with everyone at this time.

Edited by author 11-22-2006 02:26 PM
It has been 49 days since Steve's passing I still can’t imagine life without him. There has not been a day that I have not thought of Steve and laughed or cried. I first met Steve when I was 9 years old. His oldest son Charlie and I grew up together and became best friends. Steve was a father to me and I loved and cared about him like a son would. I never told Steve how much I loved and respected him over the years but he knows it now. Every time I step inside the Medley home I think of Steve sitting in his brown leather chair, legs sprawled out, doing the crossword puzzle, and greeting me with a loud, “Tribler!” call. While growing up Steve was always the serious father figure of a best friend, only because I was not smart enough to understand he was joking with me half the time. Over the years Steve became more like a friend. I had the opportunity to spend 23 days with he and Charlie on our trip to Australia I will always cherish that trip. Steve and I would always discuss that trip with great humor and nostalgia. This past summer my wife, Tammy and I spent every Sunday afternoon poolside at the Medley's. Let me tell you Steve not only knew good beer, but I found out several times that Steve also knew margaritas. Summer Sunday's usually resulted in Tammy and I spending a lot more time than we had first planned on at the Medley's because we could not walk, let alone drive home. The Medley boys are more than just best friends, I love them like brothers. I would do anything for them. Jane was always happy to feed and welcome the groups of friends (and there were and are many) into their home. I am not a good writer, especially when tears are running down my cheeks. To Jane, Charlie, Joe, and Andy, know that Tammy and I are just a phone call away and perhaps a 200-yard walk in the near future. Steve I love you and will forever look forward to seeing your smiling face shaking your mayonnaise jar full of margaritas for me. See you then.

Matt & Tammy

I met Steve in law school at UC Davis. He was one of the few bright spots in my law school experience. Such a sunny, funny man! I fondly remember babysitting Charlie when he was brand new -- Steve insisted I was not allowed to call any son of his, "sweetie." He also introduced me to birdwatching and Magpie beer. We visited Steve and Jane in Oregon, but after I moved back to Kansas, we gradually lost touch (although I do remember a few of those Christmas letters!).

The news of Steve's death arrived via a Google search. I was looking to reconnect because my oldest daughter and her boyfriend will be spending some time in Yosemite over their winter break. I knew that Steve would be the ideal person to contact -- he would make their visit extra memorable. It's so sad that she won't get the chance to experience his humor and knowledge.

All our love to Jane and the boys,
Kathy Hill & Barry Bunch

Edited by author 03-31-2007 12:46 PM
I cried when I saw why Steve's cartoon face didn't appear in the Fall/Winter YA newsletter. I cried when I read the beautiful moving eloquent tribute you sent with the last YA newsletter. Now I can tell you some of my remembrances of this really nice, funny man. I remember what an extremely dry witty occasion he made of most every event YA sponsored that my husband and I attended. His introduction to Phil Frank at the YA meeting at Tuolumne Meadows years ago, the first time I remember Phil attending a YA meeting, and back when we could get an auctioned drawing of Velma's RV for about $50, Steve's intro was so hilarious we laughed all evening thinking about it. At the First Writer's Winter Conference a few years ago, an absolutely stunnng event that Steve and Beth planned perfectly, I asked Steve for his autograph on my copy of his Yosemite National Park guide. He joked that he wasn't a featured writer there and shouldn't be giving autographs, but of course he did so gracefully and with a wink that he mustn't get too puffed up about this. I remember him honoring my favorite Yosemite ranger, Carl Sharsmith, he of the dripping nose and boundless knowledge of all things Yosemite, with dignity and gravity and, yes, unsuppressed humor. I am so grateful for the comments his family and colleagues and friends have made about him. When I read about some of Steve's hobbies and favorite things, I saw that he and I shared many weird traits, and I bet that every single person who read about him thought the exact same thing. I can only imagine the devastation his loved ones feel at such an abrupt, untimely unwelcome tragedy. I admire Beth Pratt for her working so hard to preserve the association in the face of such monumental grief. YA people make me proud to be a lifetime member. Steve was an everyman and an honorable custodian of the most beautful place on earth. My husband Kim and I will see his face in every rock, his voice in every wind, his humor in every sun and his death in every snowpack in our beloved Yosemite. We will rejoice in his life and honor his soul, the heart of Yosemite.

He was great.

Today would have been your 58th birthday and I took some extra time on your special day, to reflect on what a good man you were. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. You are missed so very much. I take great pride in your accomplishments and hold on tightly to the special memories and love we, your family, shared with you throughout the years. Our lifes will be forever changed with you gone, but we keep you always in our thoughts and hearts. Until we meet again. Your Sis

Happy Birthday Steve-or. I think of you everyday. Love, Your "Favorite" Niece... megan

It has been a year since your passing. We all miss you so very much. We are holding one another ever so tightly today as we remember you. You will forever be remembered as a great husband, father, son, brother, uncle and friend. Yosemite has been preserved and cared for in such a special way because of your unselfish contribution. Your legacy will not be forgotten. I love you and so does your entire family. Your sis, Robin

It is raining in Oakhurst today... as it was a year ago. The first good rain of the fall.

I am missing Steve today, Oct 5. I am trying to be thankful more than sad, for knowing him and for all the blessings in my life. From losing one friend, I try to cherish my family and friends even more than before.

We are thinking of Jane, the boys and the extended Medley family today .

Love,

Bill, Sadhna, Tara and Ravi Neill

I too, amongst how many more I wonder, was thinking of Steve, his family and friends last week.

I live in the hills of Scotland, not far from John Muir's birthplace, but I love Yosemite. I have such happy memories of YA work week dinners. Thank you, Steve, for welcoming me as you did and condolences always that you left just too soon.

I am still saddened by the loss of Steve -- even though my connection with him was really in the 70s and 80s. He was a terrific person, and I just hope the family is doing as well as can be expected. The world got a bit smaller and a lot sadder with his passing. Its hard to believe its been over a year. My thoughts are with the family even though we never met.

Jim Huning
Washington, DC