I met Stephanie when we pledged Gamma Phi Beta at the University of California at Irvine in 1990. We bonded through a common passion for dance, theater and performing in general. You could say we were both “hams,” sharing the stage for two seasons of Songfest in which we portrayed Mer-folk in “The Little Mermaid” and whores in “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.” I’ve performed with many people who dripped with talent but were boring to watch on stage. Not so with Steph, who was not only talented, but also had a keen understanding of how to dazzle an audience.
We lived together briefly one summer and I must say, never a dull moment was had! One night, Steph took me country “line” dancing at The Crazy Horse on the back of her motorcycle. Clearly I didn’t comprehend the physics of riding a motorcycle because every time Steph turned to the left or right, instead of leaning into the direction of the bike with her, I leaned in the opposite direction. Steph kept yelling, “STOP LEANING AWAY OR WE’RE GONNA CRASH!” We made it there in one piece, but I think she came really close to calling a cab to take me home that night.
Steph was two years older than I and so when she got a new ID from the DMV, she gave me her ID so that I could get into bars/clubs. Some might disapprove of that gesture, but back in college, I viewed it as a noble gesture. We both have hazel eyes and blondish-brown hair so she was fairly confident it would work. So one night, I went with some friends to Chester Drawers, a hole-in-the-wall dance club that served mediocre tacos and cheap beer for a discounted price on Tuesday nights. On average, college students waited in line for 2-3 average (in retrospect, NOT the best use of my time.) I nervously handed the gynormous bouncer Steph’s ID that I was trying to pass as my own. He glanced at it, glanced at me, then waved me in. I couldn’t believe it. He thought I was Steph! An hour or so later, someone told me Steph was outside and wanted to talk to me. Apparently she had decided to go to Chester Drawers too and after waiting in line with her own ID (which happened to be the same picture since it was a replacement), she was denied admittance. The bouncer must have recognized her picture because he told her she was trying to use a fake ID. I felt like the biggest jerk! Most people in that situation would have been pretty angry after waiting in line so long. But not Steph. She saw the humor in it.
And that’s exactly how I remember my friend, Stephanie. As with the motorcycle, she was always leaning into the instability of life’s turns with confidence and poise.
Thanks, Steph, for being my friend through college and enhancing the years that some say are the best days of our lives. I regret that we lost touch until recently. But I will cherish our last exchange and the experiences of our youth always. I pray in thanksgiving for your life and for your friendship.
Love & Peace,
Shana