Opinion

DAZE WORK: Telling stories on a couple of story-telling Steves

Thursday, September 17, 2020

It’s getting to the point in my life where friends and acquaintances are starting to say their eternal goodbyes.

Thursday it was legendary DePauw University football coach Nick Mourouzis who left us (see separate stories).

Over the weekend, we paid our respects to longtime Banner Graphic Sports Editor Steve Fields, a fellow I brought to Greencastle to cover Putnam County sports, something he did for 40 years.

Then on Monday in Seymour, they were saying their goodbyes to another Steve, former Greencastle attorney and ex-deputy prosecutor Steve Pierson.

As I told Fields’ widow Monique at the memorial on Sunday, not a day goes by up here at the Banner office that we don’t talk about Steve or share any of a multitude of Fields stories.

Meanwhile, I really only have one story about Steve Pierson, but it’s a dandy.

Today I feel like I need to share.

First up, Steve Fields. This is a story that has probably never made its way out of the friendly confines of our office before.

It begins and pretty much ends with another newspaper deadline fast approaching and adrenaline crashing.

The news pages were done and I was in the graphic arts department kibitzing with one of the guys. Fields’ sports pages were getting their finishing touches, and when they were done, he brought them into the room and jumped into the midst of an animated discussion.

Did I say jumped into the midst? Why, yes I did, with his face. Just as our graphic arts guy swung his arm to drive home a point, Fields stuck his mug into the picture and he got cold-cocked.

Several unpleasant words were exchanged, and needless to say, Steve was not a very happy camper the rest of the day. But to his credit, I don’t think he ever mentioned the incident again.

RIP, Steve, RIP.

My Steve Pierson story involves the one and only time I have been asked to report for jury duty.

My role as editor always figured to be my get-out-of-jail-free card. After all, I was likely to have written about or at least read about the case that was going to trial.

Pierson was defense attorney in this case, which was a run-of-the-mill drunk driving matter with a defendant I’d never laid eyes on before.

So I found myself among the prospective jurors in the jury box for Pierson and Prosecutor Del Brewer, a neighbor of mine, to scrutinize.

When it came to be my turn, Pierson could easily have said, “Judge, I don’t want the editor of the Banner Graphic on the jury, he may know too much about the case. Move to strike.”

But he didn’t. Steve had more than a little bulldog in him, so instead of releasing me, he launched into his best Perry Mason, raising his voice to ask, “Isn’t it true that just the other day you were up on the roof of your house with Mr. Brewer?”

Could I help it the prosecutor lived three doors north of my Saddle Club Road home at the time, and seeing me on the roof, climbed the ladder to lend a hand? It wasn’t like we were conspiring against the world.

I remember sighing and choosing my words carefully before I answered.

And to this day I don’t know how I didn’t get cited for contempt of court or something worse by Judge William C. Vaughn III.

Here’s what I recall responding: “Steve, you know you don’t want me on this jury. You know I don’t want to be on this jury. So just dismiss me.”

And after a pregnant pause for effect, he did.

The next evening I was with some friends having dinner at The Duck, pondering the latest of chef Matt O’Neill’s creations, when I saw Pierson across the room, making his way toward my table.

He shook hands and smiled (or maybe smirked, I never knew which).

“That was pretty good theater yesterday,” he suggested. “Pretty good theater.”

“If you say so, Shakespeare,” I responded with a smile. “If you say so.”

RIP, Steve(s), RIP.

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    All we take with us when we go is are memories...

    Well done...

    -- Posted by ridgerunner54 on Tue, Sep 22, 2020, at 3:08 PM
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