Stephen Powell

Stephen Mark Powell was born in 1957 near Lake Mills, Wisconsin, to two wonderful parents: Jack, a passionate preacher, and Ruth, an amazing piano teacher. He was joined 2 years later by little sister Linda, and in 2 more years by a little brother Tim. They grew up in a home filled with music and surrounded by the warmth and love of Jesus Christ.

Steve was the scientist of the three kids. While Tim and Linda were playing outside or pretending to be animals, Steve was conducting experiments. His earliest was a test of the cutting ability of a pair of sewing shears. On his leg. He was 4. Later he would conduct many sorts of trials using matches, but never succeeded in burning the house down. Fortunately this fascination with flames was channeled into model rocketry. Steve would spend hours building, painting, packing, and powering all sorts of aeronautical wonders that created 42 seconds of exhilarating flight, followed by 42 minutes of trying to find all the pieces, which sometimes imprisoned live insects. Steve loved watching science in action. Clay volcanoes erupting, chemicals reacting, mom’s eyebrows flying off her face…more fun than a little scientist should be allowed to have.

Not surprisingly, in school Steve excelled in STEM subjects, although the T in that acronym stands for technology, which was almost nonexistent at the time. He mowed lawns and delivered papers until he had enough money to order a calculator from Heathkit for $150. It had a whopping four functions, and came in a zillion itty bitty pieces. But he put it together, and it worked. Seemed like magic at the time, especially when you could enter “01134” and turn it upside down to spell “hello.” Steve was the one you went to for help with your math or science homework…but you had better allow enough time for him to explain the concepts, not just give you the answer. His capacity to remember minute details was astounding. This was extremely valuable in math or science, intimidating in terms of biblical trivia, and darned inconvenient if you wanted to live something down.

As far as hobbies, Steve didn’t have many. But one of them started early. When he was two years old, and his parents came home with the newest member of the family in their arms, Steve came flying out of the house to greet them. They were delighted that little Stevie was so excited to meet his new sibling! He ran right past them all into the back yard, where he climbed up on the fence and hollered, “Tay! Tay!” There was a train track that was close to their house, and nothing was more exciting to little Stevie than a train. Not even a baby sister. This affinity for trains continued throughout his life…almost every extended trip he ever took as an adult--from his honeymoon, to vacations, to visiting relatives--involved a train ride. His striped engineer’s cap became his hallmark, and it ended up being a great chemo hat.

Music was another hobby that was rooted in Steve’s early childhood. “The Powell Five” often sang together in church and at home…kind of like a mini Von Trapp family, harmony and all. In elementary school Steve brought home a surprisingly low mark in music once, with the teacher’s comment being that he sang off key. Turns out he was attempting to sing alto. He got better at singing parts, though, and as an adult his smooth bass voice provided a rich warmth to the hymns he loved in church, as well as the a cappella doxology at family gatherings. Although Steve played piano for a bit, he ended up with the violin: one set of lines instead of two, which was better for his single-path brain. (Incidentally, never talk to a person with a single-path brain while he is driving. You will not get where you are going, and it will be your fault.) He became quite accomplished at the violin, playing in the orchestra all through junior and senior high, then Cadet Symphony and the Columbus Youth Symphony (which both practiced in the Horseshoe Stadium band room). Steve had perfect pitch; he could hum you an A at any time, which was amazing. His scientific brain apparently resonated at 440 hertz, and his keen ear relished fine music. He would occasionally play for a worship service or special event. The world has lost a beautiful sound.

Steve wasn’t much for games, unless you said the word “chess.” His most memorable game was when he was so desperate for a partner that he solicited his mother’s participation. Although she had no interest in chess, she sat down with him, knitting in hand, to be his straw man opponent. She exasperated Steve repeatedly, because she couldn’t remember how each piece was allowed to advance. It is not certain his mom even knew the object of the game, and probably never put down the knitting needles to make a move, but all of a sudden Steve said, “That’s checkmate.” But it was Steve’s king who was cornered! That was the last time he asked her to play…

Although Steve practically lived at the church in his youth (being a preacher’s kid), he did not make a personal commitment to the Lord until age 16 or 17, when his Sunday School teacher invited him to an event at Grace Brethren Church. There he heard the good news of Jesus Christ and saw his need to repent of his sins and accept Jesus into his heart as Savior and Lord. It was at that point that the scriptures were planted in Steve’s soul; he studied them the rest of his life. After he was diagnosed with cancer he decided to actually copy—by hand—the bible he loved so well. He felt it would focus him on those words of life, encourage truth to soak into his heart, and bring him closer to the Lord. He used pen, and if he made an error he discarded the page and started again. He was in Zechariah (the 38th of 66 books) when he could no longer continue. Candy said she thought he could have finished the whole bible if he had employed the use of a corrector cartridge. But once Steve decided something, he didn’t deviate.

After graduating from Westerville High School, Steve commuted to The Ohio State University in a burnt orange ‘73 Plymouth Fury with a huge dent in the side and a garbage bag taped over one window. It didn’t matter what it looked like. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone; he was trying to get an education. He received his electrical engineering degree in 1980. When his cancer took him to the OSU campus years later for treatments, he requested to be wheeled through the maze of hallways underneath the academic buildings, for nostalgia’s sake.

Steve met Candace Bennett at a Christian singles retreat in 1983. After one of the talks was over, Candy was happily chatting with someone in the aisle way, blocking Steve’s path (which is actually one of Steve’s pet peeves). She claims she was not doing this with the intent to trap him into a conversation, but they ended up married, so you be the judge. She was attracted to Steve because he had a genuine love for his Savior and held the bible in high regard. It was hard to find a guy who was as honest, sincere, and committed to the Lord as Steve. If a clerk gave him a nickel more than he was due in change, he’d probably drive back to the store to return it. On their first date Candy learned even more about Steve. After watching him gaze into his water glass for an inordinate amount of time, she finally asked what he was doing. His answer included a physics lesson involving bubbles which she cannot remember now. But she remembered Stephen; in fact he became an indelible impression on her heart, and vice versa. They were married in 1984, and Steve said asking Candace to be his life partner was the best decision he ever made. This past Valentine’s Day, Steve went to great lengths to make sure his sweetheart received her traditional dozen roses from him, even though he could no longer drive.

When Steve became a father, his purpose in life took on two new dimensions: Josiah and John. The responsibility of raising the next generation weighed very heavily on him, and he wanted more than anything to be a good father. He took his parental role so seriously that he initiated nightly family devotions before the boys could walk. Although it is almost certain that his sons would have preferred less biblical instruction, Steve was committed to making sure that their foundations were reinforced with spiritual rebar, so that when the storms of life came, John and Josiah would stand strong. And stand strong they have, all the way through their father’s illness. They have been tirelessly dedicated to his good, just as he was dedicated to theirs.

Steve’s practical approach to life enabled him to provide well for his family. He governed purchases on the basis of need, not want. As a passenger on the way to radiation treatment once, he was asked if he wanted the seat heater on. He said, “No, because then I will want a car with a seat heater.” And when the cancer had eaten up so much of his spine that he could no longer hold his head up, he rejected the meticulously engineered neck support in favor of a bathrobe belt strapped across his forehead and tied around the back of his chair. He looked like a Recliner Ninja…but it worked.

Stephen wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with. He was a John the Baptist without the camel hair clothes and locust lunches. Compelled to stand firm in his convictions, he would argue a point with the confidence of a marine, and the flexibility of Mt. Rushmore. So it was no surprise that he, like John the Baptist, found himself in frequent confrontations. When it was suggested that not everything is black or white, that if something is mostly right you should accept it, he would respond with the analogy, “So would you eat a brownie if you knew someone had put just a little bit of poop in it?” Such was his view of compromise in matters of conviction. But contrary to the supposition that this was born out of arrogance, Steve’s heart was actually quite tender to the Lord’s prompting, even to the point of publicly asking forgiveness of his church family for having sinned in a particular instance. Who among us has the level of humility required to stand in front of any group to make such a confession? The same conviction that caused him to clash with others also brought him to his knees.

Steve lost his 5-year fight with a cruel disease on April 24, 2017, but death has already been conquered. We know Steve has stepped into eternal life not because of anything he did to deserve it, but because of what Jesus did on the cross 2,000 years ago, dying in Steve’s place. We celebrate Stephen’s 60 years of unwavering commitment to his family, his relentless struggle to translate the truths of scripture into everyday life, and his genuine desire to please the God who saved him. We should all do so well.

J.R. Miller is quoted as saying, “The only thing that walks back from the tomb with the mourners…is the character of a man. What a man is, survives him. It can never be buried.” And so it is with this man.

Stats
Born: April 2, 1957
Died: April 24, 2017
Family: Steve leaves behind his faithful wife and caregiver of 32 years, Candace; two sons – Josiah (Megan) Powell and John (Beth) Powell, 3 grandchildren - Jackson, Boston, and Julia, 2 siblings - Tim (Jean) Powell and Linda (Lance) Norman, as well as 1 niece, and 5 nephews.

Family will receive friends Monday, May 1, 2017 from 10-11am at the TIDD FAMILY FUNERAL HOME, 5265 Norwich St., Hilliard, OH 43026; where funeral service will follow at 11 am. Interment Wesley Chapel Cemetery.