<div><strong>At a time like this, there’s no one we’d rather hear from—no one who could comfort us more—than Big Steve himself. Steve, we keep looking at our phones, willing them to ring. Call us already, answer our texts. Please tell us this is all a bad dream.</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Before we go further, let’s be honest: there’s no way to capture the impact of “Big Red” on the world. The more people you speak to, the more stories emerge. The more stories emerge, the more you realize how many lives are connected by him. So, let’s settle on this goal: we all knew Steve in our own way, let this help you remember Steve as you knew him best, and also hold his family in your heart.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>From Suffern to the world</strong>
</div>
<div>In early spring 1978, a gift arrived in Suffern. Not particularly large at the time, baby Steven—born to Jimmy and Janet, little brother to Paul, big brother to Karen—would grow into a true colossus.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Raised to be respectful, hardworking, and loyal, Steve had a sharp wit, a keen sense for people, and a knack for easing the burden in any situation. Athletic and optimistic, he was someone you could rally around, a steady presence who made those at his side feel secure.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>In high school, his talents expanded to music and theater—strumming, singing, and acting—while also becoming an All-State shot-putter on the track team. Across school districts, the name “Redner” became household. Steve rarely walked into a room without being known.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>Staying rooted</strong>
</div>
<div>After graduation, Steve combined athletic and merit scholarships to attend Ramapo College. Though he once thought about leaving the area, home—and the people in it—always called him back. Whether family or friend, Steve would never abandon you.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>In his twenties, his sphere of influence widened—tri-state bowling alleys, eateries, watering holes—where his generosity, humor, and uncanny memory made him unforgettable. “If you’re a big guy and you tip well, people remember you,” he’d joke. But it was more than that—Steve could recall the details of shared moments so vividly he’d help you relive them.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>Family first</strong>
</div>
<div>In his late twenties, Steve married Kitty and embraced fatherhood. Paige was born in 2005 on Grandpa’s birthday, and Steve was a gentle, devoted dad from the start. Three years later came Riley, and his heart (and arms) were full. He never stopped loving and caring for his girls.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>By his thirties, Steve was a respected bank manager, was active in local service organizations including the New City Rotary, and was the hub of countless social circles, bringing people together just to enjoy each other’s company. He always noticed what we had, not what we lacked, and delighted in simple pleasures: a breeze through an open car window, a laugh with friends, a quiet night by a fire.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>A big man with a bigger heart</strong>
</div>
<div>In recent years, Steve would sit at the Haverstraw Elks Lodge overlooking the Hudson and dream of a cabin in the woods, a lake, friends and family around the campfire—his antidote to the chaos of the world.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Yes, Steve was a colossus, but his true magnitude was in his character. He accepted people as they were, loved them warts and all, and shared himself the same way. When you needed him, Steve may have been your comfort blanket, your shoulder to cry on, your guiding star, your ego boost, your anti-technology guru, or even your political analyst; as one dear friend put it, Steve “added texture to life”.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>We loved our time with Steve so much that we sometimes forgot we were borrowing him from his most important role: dad. To Paige and Riley, he was protector, teacher, and safe place. Now his beloved girls are without their father. Nothing can bring Big Red back, but we can do for his daughters what he would have done for us—show up, ease the burden, and help them step into their new normal.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>After an old coach passed, Steve once wrote:
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><em>“Life is so fleeting. No matter how hard we hold on, the sands of time will eventually and always slip through our fingers, with us never knowing when the last grain will fall to the earth and call us back to our maker.”</em>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>We miss you terribly, Steve. We will carry you in our hearts and in our actions, until our last grains fall.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>Please help us honor him by supporting Paige and Riley as they navigate this unimaginable loss. </strong>Your donation, large or small, will help with the costs of all of those things Steve would have provided including basic supplies, food, clothing, and college.
</div>

Anonymous

Sean Donohue

LAUREN SMYLA

Alysha Simmons

Matt Ammer

Darin Pankin

Rick Kohler

Andre Aklian

Lauren Smyla

Jason Hancock

Stephen Spataro

Nana Nduom

alden smith

Frederick Alcaro

Samuel Scavera

Gerard Reilly

Honor Steve Redner: Support his Girls

Honor Steve Redner: Support his Girls

Still $1,222 to go. Help us build momentum.