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In a video on the National Veterans Foundation’s outreach
program in LA’s Skid Row, Steve Clark stands at 6th and Julian talking
about his work with the homeless and with homeless veterans. He looks into the
camera and says this: Life can start over.
He is utterly believable when he says it. He spoke from the heart, and he spoke from
experience.
Steve came to the NVF as a volunteer. He went with the outreach team that first
time and he came back changed. He’d seen
work he could do, wanted to do, and best of all, work he could be passionate
about. He knew this was a place where he
could make a difference. And yet with all of that intensity and purpose, he was
relaxed and infinitely approachable. You can see it in his face. You hear it in
his voice as he talks to these people whom no one wants to acknowledge, let
alone touch.
Steve made himself a safe haven for the people he came in
contact with. His amazing stature might have been threatening in another
man. With Steve, you had the sense that
he had to be built on a grand scale just to house his huge, open and generous
heart. In t-shirt and shorts that showed his beefy calves and tatted arms,
sporting a Mohawk at times, or recently, shaved but always with a cap, he made
you think twice about judging on appearances.
Inside he was brimming with love and compassion, and in the time he
spent with us, he opened that incredible resource to whomever was in need.
Life is complicated and unpredictable. The time line is different for each of us. Steve’s
earlier years might have been difficult, but I know that Steve found himself
and his calling with the NVF’s outreach.
In nine short months he built for himself a foundation to sustain him
through the work, and he built relationships out there with a population that
is largely either invisible or forgotten.
The only member of the team who was not a veteran, Steve made himself
the point man. He was a street warrior,
and we salute him as he steps off point now.
I think of another
rebel, Mother Teresa. She had almost fifty
years. Steve had but nine months. There
is no way to measure the impact he might have had if he’d had more time with
us. But here is something I know for
sure… Steve will always be a presence in the minds and hearts of everyone whose
life he touched: all of us at the Foundation here in LA, our team members
across the country, and the ones he served on the streets of this city.
I loved him like a son.
It was a privilege to watch him grow and change as his own life started
over. In this time of grief and loss, we come together to honor Steve and to
say goodbye. He was taken from us too soon, but all of us who knew him and
loved him carry within us the light he brought to us. His memory can never be
buried, and no one can bury his
timeless heart. Rest in peace, Steve.
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