How Steven loved to fish!

Cindy,

Here's the announcement I made to the message board Steve and I used to frequent. What follows afterward are messages of condolence for you and the rest of his family from various board members, some of whom Steve fished with. Some of the names are just first names or nicknames.

Some sad news to report this evening. Steven Pak, known on this board as Muffdaddy and my fishing buddy, passed away yesterday due to complications from cancer. He was 30.

I first met Steve last July at Fort Point Pier; we had both started haunting that area, tossing lures for hair raisers, and had both been regular, enthusiastic readers of this board. A Texan by way of Chicago and New York City, Steve had moved to the Bay Area and taken up salt water fishing right about the time that I had. We both fished at the same skill level, had flexible schedules, lived a mile from one another, and had developed unhealthy obsessions with fishing. So we did anything two guys in our position would do: we hit the road. A lot.

Together through the summer and fall of 2002 Steve and I did a slow tour of the Bay Area, hitting a great number of spots, most of which neither of us had ever been to. Clutching our Mapquest printouts, with cups of steaming coffee at our knees, Steve and I visited Pier 30/32, Crissy Field, Muni Pier, Point Pinole, Point Isabel, Thorton Beach, Bean Hollow, Fort Point, Fort Baker, China Camp, McNears Pier, the Napa River, Robert Crown Beach, the Berkeley Pier, Ocean Beach, and probably a few others that I can't think of right now. Steve and I were shore
fishermen, and proud of it. We preferred shore fishing to fishing from boats. Steve even talked about organizing shore anglers to ensure that our interests were properly represented.

A week went by in January and I didn't hear from Steve. I figured he had caught a cold again, and waited to hear from him. More than a week went by, and I started to wonder. The next day I received an email from Steve's fiancee Cindy informing his friends that he had passed out, lost four pints of blood to internal bleeding, and spent three days in the hospital. The doctors chalked it up to an ulcer formed when Steve took medication for a dislocated shoulder on an empty stomach. Within a few weeks Steve was fishing again.

But soon Steve was in the hospital again, after doubling over with abdominal pain at home in his apartment. I went to see him, and he explained that the doctors had opened him up and found a hole in his intestine. Steve was weak but in good spirits, glad that the whole ordeal was finally over. I reported to him the latest catches from the board, particularly Stan's sturgeons. (Sturgeon fishing had been Steve's latest obsession before he became ill.) I told him we'd be back in the game soon, giving the sturgeon a run for their money. But to my surprise Steve had, apparently as a result of his own brush with mortality, experienced a change of heart: previously he said he probably would have insisted I keep any sturgeon I caught fishing while with him. Now, suddenly, Steve had decided to swear off sturgeon altogether. "A gentle fish," he said.

The surgery left a stitch pattern in his midsection, he explained as he drew it with his index finger in the air, that looked like the letter U with handles. I made him laugh when I told him he now had a lateral line like a California halibut. I brought him some fishing and outdoors magazines from Hi's to read as well as my copy of Abe Cuanang's San Francisco Striper.

A few days later, I got an email from Steve. The doctors had done some tests and had determined that his overall condition had been caused by T-cell lymphoma, a rare cancer. He was going to move down to UCLA immediately for treatment, and Lisa and I helped pack his belongings a few weeks later. I never saw him again.

Over the past six weeks I'd gotten the occasional voicemail message from Steve, as he moved in and out of chemotherapy in LA, as well as emails from Cindy. I never was able to talk to him on the phone, and the truth is, I was afraid to. He sounded terrible, as though he'd aged fifty years in the span of eight weeks. It was tough to listen to and the truth is, I was not always tough enough to handle it. I tried to do what I could and sent him lengthy reports every few weeks on the local fishing scene, cutting and pasting reports and pictures from this board. Cindy took them, printed them up, and read them to him in the hospital. He enjoyed the reports tremendously.

Earlier this week, I got an email from Cindy reporting that his condition had taken a turn for the worse and asking all of his friends to pray for him. I wrote a version of the request that I considered posting to this board. But Steve can be a pretty private guy, so I passed on posting it.

This afternoon, Cindy called to tell me that he had passed away the night before. She thanked me for all of the good times that Steve and I had shared fishing and told me how happy it had made him.

Steve had a certain resiliency to him. Of course, I first saw this in his fishing. We fished many times in many places, and Steve had terrible luck with the fish. He should have caught more. Yet despite all of the disappointment, I never heard him complain, only half-joke (I think) that he was going to levy his shore excursions with some party boat trips to help ensure he would bring in more fish. After all of the months of disappointment, Steve finally caught his first striped bass, alone (I was sick at the time), in the dark and pouring rain, on a railroad bridge pylon on the Napa River. The more I think about it, under such tough conditions and after such a disappointing year, maybe that was where he was meant to catch it after all. From what I've heard from Cindy, Steve was upbeat and determined until the end to beat the cancer that ultimately beat him.

Remember the first time we walked down McNears Pier, saw a man fighting a fish at the end, and as we broke into a dead run both said the same word: "Striper." And then you climbed over the railing, to stand on the piling, and helped the man land his...ray. Those were the days when the sun shone bright and the birds were calling and we stripped down to our t-shirts and lazed away entire afternoons hoping for just one chance, one firm tug to prove our fishing mettle. Bad music, hot coffee, and heads on a swivel in a car looking for a dozen turnouts neither of us had ever seen before. Hours of disappointment and that rare moment of triumph. These are the best fishing memories one can hope for and I shared them with you.

One last cast, Steve. As long as I fish, you can be sure I'll always make one last cast for you. A few more minutes on the water for my friend who has passed before his time. Thanks for the good times.

-Kyle Mizokami

Notes of condolence for Cindy and Steve's family from the board:

"I had the pleasure of meeting and fishing with Steven and found him to be a top-notch person. He and I would email back and forth about the current state of halibut or striper fishing. It has been months since I have received mail from Steve and I was actually talking about it to Shannon last week. I now know why the emails never came. Steven will be missed."
--Tom and Shannon Aurand

"My thoughts and prayers go out to you and his family, friends, and loved ones."
--Mike

"My condolences to his family and all those mourning his passing on."
--andthelinegoeszziipp

"May you keep shootin' for that Toad Sturgeon my friend...Losing a great fishing brother is difficult to accept...may Steve's family persevere, in light of this tragic event."
--SD Fisherman

"I'm sad that we have lost a fellow board member and fishing brother. He'll be missed. RIP Steve..."
--OB Pier Rat

"Our best wishes go out to his family as well as all of those who had the chance to meet him by way of this board. It is always tough to lose a good friend and that is what he had become as a result of his many messages (and that's what I consider so many on this board -- whether or not we have met in person). Steven, may you rest in peace and catch the big ones in the hereafter."
--Ken Jones

"I can't believe it. It was not too long ago when I saw Steve at Oyster Pt. during the sturgeon run. He really wanted to conquer a sturgeon. Well, I know he's slamming some monster dinos in a world far better than this. I had the opportunity to fish with Steve several times and considered him a super guy. I will miss fishing with him greatly."
--Stanley Low

"God's speed and rest in peace, Steve."
--kcruise

"From Steve's last post about fishing with Kyle....

'We managed to catch very large striped perch. So beautiful we had to throw them back.'

I read into it -- a man at peace and an enlightened appreciation to life. Something we sometimes take for granted."
--Rich Reano

"I enjoyed reading his posts and know of the loss cancer can bring, but you can be sure in the afterlife there is no cancer. Fish On, Steven!
--Davey Jones

"My condolences to his family and friends...God speed."
--Kaster

"I am glad I got a line wet with Steve and wish him good vibes into the Hereafter. Life is fragile and precious, and sometimes unfairly brief."
--Glen Gustavson-Falck

"My condolences, I will miss his posts."
--Rockfish

"An angler lost is a loss to all anglers. Rest in peace, Steve."
--Arvin

"Rest in peace, Steve."
--Pierhead

"I never got to meet Steve but his posts always made me laugh. I especially remember the Chinese New Year post, the one about "eating soup in the morning and then go fish." I will miss you...next fish I catch will go out to you..."
--Kit

"You can call it anyway you want it, I have only fished with Steven one time at Alameda Rockwall. But a couple days ago I started wondering how come we haven't seen a report by him for quite a while. Steven and Kyle seem like a fishing tag team to me -- it was kind of abnormal not to hear about him in a long time. And the sad news came."
--Patrick

"The loss of a friend I have not yet met hurts almost as much as the loss of a friend I already have. From his posts and others, I regret not meeting Steve, and my heart goes out to all whom his presence touched in his too short life."
--Matt

"I did not know MD but I definitely knew of him. RIP Steve. "
--Robert Gardner

"May God Bless Steve, his family and friends and our prayers out to them this Easter Weekend. TIGHT LINES EVERYONE and my next fish is for you Steve."
--koopac4

"Though I never met Steve, I will miss him. I know that there is one less face with eyes focused intently on the tip of a rod, mind whirring about what kind of fish is making the tip bounce up and down ever so slightly. RIP Steve, you will be missed and hope you are catching all the fish you almost caught here up there in the hereafter. You're in my prayers."
--Hara

"I never met him personally, but it is always sad to lose a fellow fisherman. My best wishes to his family and friends."
--Josh

"Though I'm new to this board, the brotherhood of all you anglers touches me deeply. I'll be sure to remember him the first time I go after sturgeon. The first one I catch, I'll release in his honor."
--Elric

"Man he was young...I can't believe he passed away at such a young age. God bless you both and his family. I am a new member to this site so I have never seen one of his posts. He must have been like a brother to you since you passed so much time together. Keep your head up and go catch the big ones for him."
--Shark Fisher.

"Best wishes to his family and friends...."
--Notsosmart

"I never knew Steve but to see these posts says a lot about him and his friends...fish for Steve next time out..."
--Goonerdude

"Fishermen don't die. They go to a better fishing spot for the rest of eternity."
--Snookie

"My condolences."
--Hyok

previous