In the neighbourhood where I grew up in West Hamilton, there was a charismatic kid a few years older than me named Steve Lewis. I feel safe in using his surname because I have only positive recollections of him. He was a popular guy who was fortunate to have perfect hair for the times: it was longish and straight and was feathered perfectly in the middle.

The one thing that Steve could do better than any kid we knew was talk to parents. He didn’t talk down to them; he actually carried on conversations with them. I don’t recall the contents of these conversations but because of them, parents liked him and trusted him. My mom knew that if we – my brother Rob and I – were at Steve’s house (where all the neighbourhood kids congregated) everything would be okay. It always was.

I don’t know what became of Steve. He’s not on Facebook, as far as I can see. What I remember about him specifically was his knack for making direct eye contact with everyone he met. He had no airs about him so eye contact came easily to him. He followed it up with talk that was relaxed, casual, polite and positive. Unlike a lot of the other kids, Steve rarely swore. Continue reading →