Straight, No Chaser, With Humor and Heart

Bill Eville Thursday, January 20 2022 - 2:53pm

For a big man, Steve Myrick did not loom. Instead, he listened.

In fact, he had the unique trait of being able to hold court while saying nothing at all. In other words, he had presence — in the newsroom, behind a camera, at the tiller of a sailboat, on a barstool, at the racetrack. And his presence made the Gazette newsroom a special place to be when he worked here as a reporter from 2015 to 2019.

Steve came to the Gazette later in life, after a long career in television and print journalism. Upon arrival he rolled up his sleeves and said, “Put me to work. I’ll do anything.”

That request personified the man who would quickly become the Gazette’s senior writer: humble and hardworking. And he more than made good on his promise, writing stories from the perspective of a man who had seen it all but never became jaded. His big heart and sense of irony would never allow for that.

He could write spot news stories on the spot, dig deeply into arcane records and transcripts, and tell another person’s life story in a way that made younger reporters often say: “I want to write like that.”

In the newsroom he anchored a desk in the corner, hunkered down at his computer, his thick fingers pecking away at the keyboard. Every so often he would look up, bemused at the newsroom chatter and add his own perfect line to the mix, his wry sense of humor always at the ready.

He walked slowly and carried a big reporter’s notebook. I remember someone in the community telling me they saw him on assignment once and wondered why he seemed to be just standing around. I said, wait until his story comes out, he’ll help you see that scene better than you saw it yourself.

But don’t take my word for it. Consider this opening to his profile of Everett Poole, a perfect example of the Myrick touch: “His wit is keen and his laugh comes easily. He is 87 this summer, and every one of those 87 years has worn a crease or two into his craggy, bearded countenance. He tamps tobacco into his pipe and lights it with a fearsome looking torch device. The sweet smell of pipe smoke fills the shop.”

When a writer who can do that sends you a note to say how much he enjoyed your story, which he did for many Gazette reporters, you feel like you have been given a pass to a special kind of club, the sort of place Steve Myrick liked to hang out at, nothing fancy, where humor and thoughtfulness are served up in equal measures.

Steve loved horse racing, sailing, his family, the Vineyard community, music, photography, the police scanner, beer and good bourbon. He was communal and solitary, and he loved telling stories, quietly and creatively, the way the best ones are told.

He also loved restraint in his writing and I can see him looking at me now as I write all these words of praise, cocking his head as if to say, enough already. But I can also see him at the keyboard later, sending me a note to say thank you, because that’s the kind of guy he was.

It feels right to let Steve have the last word here, to stand aside and marvel at and be thankful for what he has left behind. Here is an excerpt from his final piece for the Gazette, a goodbye to the Vineyard, written this fall.

“My boat Snappy Lede was my home in Vineyard Haven harbor for eight summers. With me was Joe the Cat, best first mate I ever had. Dozens of gorgeous boats surrounded me. It was a short leg to the start line of the Vineyard Cup and the Moffett Race. Countless sunrises, countless sunsets. Infinite stars. I learned how to photograph the vast night sky, and the tiny bluebirds on an oak tree in front of my little cabin. Belonging to a community that turns out half the town to watch a boat launch was a consummate joy. I interviewed senators and congressmen, and followed POTUS around in a big yellow bus. In my years here I heard more good live music than in all the rest of my life. I have learned there is way more good than evil in this world.”

Comments

So much talent that A. was

skip OB

So much talent that A. was used and B. seen and read. RIP Sir and thanks for the friendship, you're missed. :-(

Thanks, Bill, for your words

Tom Willmott Canandaigua, NY

Thanks, Bill, for your words about Steve. Perfectly done, as always.

Perfect Bill Eville. Thank

Anna Marie D’Addarie Oak Bluffs

Perfect Bill Eville. Thank you. Go down to the Sea once more, Steve.

I cannot thank you enough for

Becky

I cannot thank you enough for these words about my dad. You’ve captured him so well and given me the gift of seeing him from another perspective. My entire family is very touched and honored.

I am a first cousin, his Aunt

Sandra Sugrimis Lily, KY

I am a first cousin, his Aunt Rosa’s oldest daughter. I’m so sorry we lost Steve! He was an amazing man. I send you & you family lots of love, hugs, & kisses. I hope to meet you &your family someday.
Your 2nd cousin,
Sandra

Steve was such a great

Guinevere Oak Bluffs

Steve was such a great contribution to the Island. I loved hearing about his cat on his boat and discussing stories with him at Offshore.
He will be missed.

Steve was a mensch, a rare

Darrell King Edgartown

Steve was a mensch, a rare combination of immense talent and humility, with whom you could share a seat at the bar and discuss almost anything. Or you could sit for extended periods of time without saying a word, both lost in thought, until Steve came up with the precise words to fit the occasion. He listened, he shared, he was inspirational and a joy to be around. Love you, Steve, may you rest in peace.

I knew Steve from our work

T.D. Thornton North Shore of MA

I knew Steve from our work together in the press box at Suffolk Downs. He was widely respected in the Thoroughbred racing world as a journalist who was thorough and fair, with a very keen sense of storytelling. I am proud to say that as a slightly younger writer who worked alongside him, I often tried to emulate his style. He had a very economical way with words and never over-wrote, and he could really strike the proper tone with his structuring. I also tried to emulate the ways he interacted with people, treating everyone with respect and dignity.

Almost every single one of us has some far-flung goal, like wanting to live on a sailboat on a beautiful island. For most of us that will be it—something nice but probably unattainable to dream of. But Steve actually made his dream happen. It took him awhile to put the plan together, and it wasn’t always easy, but he did it. And the pleasure and joy from that accomplishment radiated out to everyone who spent time with him.

I’ve only been to Martha’s Vineyard once, in the offseason. But I will forever remember an unseasonably warm April evening that my wife and I spent with Steve: A good meal, a few beers at the pub down the street where almost everyone stopped by to say hi to Steve, and then a moonlit walking tour around the harbor, with Steve narrating an endless and enthusiastic fountain of history and humorous local color. I’ll miss you, buddy. Thank you for the friendship.

Thank you for the kind words

Andy Myrick Vermont

Thank you for the kind words of honor. I guess I didn't miss the mark by much;
Tonight I found the strength to write a few words in honor of my brother, Steve Myrick. This one is hitting hard. I am more of a speaker than a writer, but since he didn’t really like funerals, you will now have a chance to compare my writing to his. Low expectations are key here.
Steve was the best big brother one could have. He protected and watched over Cyndi and me his entire life. He bought me my first real skis and also provided library cards for the St. Johnsbury Atheneum every year. As a college professor and dedicated Mad River Glen ski patroller, it’s obvious those two gifts changed my life.
Steve inherited my grandmother Tennie’s skill with words and stories. He was Valedictorian of his Graham Jr. College class and spoke at graduation. He rose to Editor at WBZ news in Boston. Occasionally our whole family would drive to Zayre’s Department Store and tune all the TV’s to Channel 4. His name would be the first credit to roll; “Edited by Steve Myrick”, and we would cheer.
He was a beautiful and graceful Stein Ericson style skier, and taught hundreds of kids from Boston how to ski through the Y.E.S program. He later dedicated a similar level of athleticism and passion to golf and sailing.
Steve and Susan would host Cyndi and me for visits to Boston when they lived in Somerville. The only time in my life I saw Steve “worked up” was when Cyndi and I arrived at North Station before he was able to get there, and we got off the bus without anyone to meet us. He sprinted in about five minutes later. We were fine, but North Station was a different place in the ‘70’s. He reminded me of this story last spring.
I will never forget visiting Steve and Susan on one of their sailboats in Vineyard Haven. There was an empty mooring next to their boat, and Steve kept mentioning that something strange was going on, as the moorings were tightly packed and were never saved for anyone. A little while later, Steve pointed out that there was a boat coming between all the others, and the captain really knew how to sail in those tight quarters. It was Ted and Victoria Kennedy, and we visited with them as they tied up 10’ away.
His love of horse racing may have come from my grandfather, who was known as a horseman. Steve wrote for numerous horse-racing rags, travelling yearly to the Derby and Churchill Downs on press passes.
Steve was well known on Martha’s Vineyard, and lived life to the fullest there. His stories of Joe and other characters struck readers of both the Gazette and the Times. His daughters spent many happy days on the water and on the island. I was so honored to accompany Steve to Offshore ales, where they always found space for him. I was quite impressed when he was named to the presidential press detail, but Steve thought it was funny that the main purpose of the detail was to keep the press occupied and away from the vacationing family.
On one visit early last summer, his island friends had shared beach passes with him from all over the island, and some of these passes were quite difficult to obtain. We drove out to Lucy Vincent Beach, and were the only people there. We sat in silence for a couple of hours. Nothing really needed to be said. Sometimes it’s important to just be.
I am so proud of Becky, James, Rosie, and Susan. Their selfless dedication to comforting Steve at the end of his life is saint-worthy. Steve deeply missed Alison, as we all do. His loss was deep. He survived, thrived, and persisted through many trying times.
I will miss him, and I feel very alone.
Pay it forward people; watch out for others, listen intently, love deeply, share joy, be kind. Be like Steve.