Our Memories of Steve "The Man" Waalk, 1959-2002

I remember most about Steve his gentle strength. He would offer his help where and whenever needed. We would giggle together, mostly about our shared passion of sun-worshipping. -Fern, Grocery

The thing I’ll miss most about Steve is the "shorts" contest we had going on for the last few years. A few years ago we realized that we were usually the first to put shorts on in the spring and the last to give into the dreaded long pants in the winter. We’d make it a point to run into each other on those days that were borderline shorts/long pants weather to see if the other had given in. Snow was flying and we were both still wearing shorts if I remember right. We pushed it pretty far some years. This year we both gave in at the same time on the same day, and we had a good laugh about that. There was talk of a traveling trophy that would go to the winner but that never happened. -Jim, Deli

Thinking back to the time I saw Steve something like five times throughout the day (doing errands for here, of course). I can’t help but notice how he really was "The Man" of the Wedge, and not just of the co-op, but of the neighborhood as well. Seems like he had connections everywhere and could accomplish all things through them. His lasting impression on me however, was just before he fell ill he informed me that the coffin freezer will blow mist across the top when it’s in the defrost mode. I never noticed it before, but I can’t help but notice it all the time now. Thanks Steve, for making the little things in life seem so big! -Warren, Grocery

When I started working here, a long time ago, Steve worked in Grocery, had a mullet half-way down his back, and I thought he would slap me up for playing loud, bad music in the morning and hurling apples and crap fast-ball style into the garbage compactor. (Neither of these practices continue; especially loud, bad music.) We’d also test Steve’s patience by mimicking his pages. Times changed. Steve cut his hair, we cut out the messy, nasty behavior. Steve took on a different role at the Wedge, and we didn’t get on each other’s nerves. (We even had conversations!) I’ll tell you what, I’ll be missing him and thinking about him at cookout time under the parking lot hot tent. Even though he knew every corner of the store, in front of the grill was where he looked most at home. Cheers for you, Steve, Mr. Wedge. Times change once again. -Travis, Produce

When Steve and I had to dismantle the Wedge bakery in St. Anthony Village, I called Steve and said, "Can you come over and disconnect a seven foot sink and haul it to the warehouse?" He said "yeah," and brought his dad. -Ann, Grocery

Steve and I put up with this guy who was a slave driver to put together this French oven for our new bakery, last fall. We bonded and sweated. It was like going to war. We were so sore we just looked at each other and laughed. -Tony, Bakery

Steve was the guy who took care of snow-blowing the sidewalks. I always enjoyed it when he came in after working outside. He’d be all bundled up in his boots and Carharts, his rabbit fur hat all full of snow. I’d take one look at him and say, "Sasquatch!" No matter how cold and tired he was, he would always smile and laugh at this. -Audrey, Grocery

I remember Steve laughing - and I remember his joking, ironic words. And we also had serious talks in this last year, about health, about fears, about life. I work in HBC, so we talked a lot about his illness. Mostly, I remember that he wanted to help; I see him on ladders, crouching to peer into refrigerators and outlets. I hear him asking, "Hey how’s it going with you today?" -Cindra, HBC

Two signs of spring. We knew winter was over when Steve wore shorts to work. He was always the first. I’ll also miss seeing him outside on a spring morning, in rubber overalls, waving hello and hosing down the shopping carts. -Amy, Administration

A story from a customer: "I came in to buy something on sale and discovered that the sale had ended the day before. I was lamenting my bad luck to a gentleman with the name tag Dan, General Manager. He said, ‘I’ll tell you what! You can have that at the sale price. Just tell the cashier that Dan said so.’ The next week I saw him again. He was wearing his name tag Steve. It turns out it was Steve who gave me the sale price. Dan was out of town the week before and Steve said he couldn’t find his own name tag and borrowed Dan’s."