Many years ago a friend said to me “…the concept of a family is ridiculous, you have to take whatever you get: good bad and ugly, I would much prefer if we chose who our family members were”. It sounded quite absurd then, today it is very real me to me – because if I could, I would chose that Steele was my brother.
Roan entered the hallowed halls of St. Georges College in September 1988. And just like Hurricane Gilbert that followed shortly our lives have and will never be the same. To Georgians all over Roan had two names at– interestingly, none of which was Roan. We called him Steele and in 1996 when Guinness launched the iconic Michael Powers promotion he took on that persona and became Michael Powers the International Man of Mystery & Action. An international Man of Mystery he was; Steele listened four times as much as he spoke – and often times his only response was a smile. That smile said it all.
Steele was an avid outdoorsman and member of the infamous Mountain Goat Crew. He was always up for the challenge of a hike or a camp. He loved nature and was always game for a trek into the salubrious hills of St. Andrew – Clydesdale, Hollywell, Blue Mountain – he did them all. I can remember on one occasion on a hike to Hollywell, Steele then in Michael Powers shape just consumed the treacherous slopes with relative ease, while those of us, not so blessed, struggled and clawed our way there. I think after that trip we had to crown him Michael Powers. That knowledge of his physical prowess makes it so hard for us to deal with the notion of him succumbing to an illness – it’s unreal.
(Mountain Goat Crew – Steele: bottom right)
We often think of Steele as a quiet participant, but he did have his moment being the ringleader, and when he did he did in with class. One such incident is vivid in my mind – December 1994 – we had just participated in a Sickle Cell Workshop at Merle Grove and wanted to get back to St. Georges to attend the Christmas play (The Lion King). Despite our best efforts to get a taxi to stop and take us up, they would slow and once they realized we were “schoolas” rapidly accelerate. I was on the verge of giving up when Steele advised us to step back as he took matters into his iron clad hands. He donned an African rim hat and flagged a cab then to my surprise threw on the most believable Nigerian accent you could image “Cabby, we are poor university students, we love Jamaica, Bob Marley…” Suffice it to say, we got the cheapest cab ride I can recall and a tour of Kingston for free. All the landmarks were pointed out to us: Half Way Tree, Cross Roads, Heroes Circle even the Guinness Gym (which we were told was the location for brewing Guinness).
Steele was also a man of his community he gave tirelessly on several projects on the school ground and neighboring community. Of mention is the fact that he served his peers as Key Club Vice President and Student Councilor. Steele was always one of the regulars on community projects, I can always remember the early days when our club was emerging and participation on projects was dismal. You could always count on Steele, Andrew, Bruce and a few other disciples to be there. Steele’s dedication was enviable; if we were painting, you knew he would not leave until we were done, period! He was a man of tremendous will, determination and stick-to-itiveness; he would never leave until the job was done.
I have been most unfortunate to grow up in a household without any male presence, so when it came time for dressing up for the formal events of our days I was at a major disadvantage. But with good friends like Steele, you never had to worry. He would borrow his Uncle Claude’s clothes and take them to school to lend me to wear to these functions: ties, jackets, the works. In fact, now I wonder if Claude didn’t realize that his wardrobe would keep shrinking. His Uncle Claude became our Uncle Claude, with the innumerable late night trips he would have to make to pick us up and take us all over the place. But Steele was selfless even to the point of opening up his family to us.
In fact, out of this act of charity I had an experience with Steele that none of you will be unfortunate enough to share and be alive to speak of. It was April 1995 and we were heading to a Key Club convention at Moneague College and running late, so Roan made a few calls and got Uncle Claude to agree to drop us there, the only caveat was that his driver would drop us. “Driver”…maybe a more accurate description would have been “pilot” as we had a twenty minute drive (flight) from Kingston to Moneague, to this day I am still not sure how we made it alive.
Steele was also a sportsman, proudly representing the light blues at Sunlight Cup Cricket. Much can be said about his bowling and how opposing batsmen would have a feast of it. Roan had a unique bowling style fast, medium slow pace. Fast or slow, no one doubted how strong his arms were and what the consequence might have been if you were hit by a delivery. Roan belonged to many circles some of which I consider myself most fortunate to have been a part of. There was the “Waltham Trio”: Steele, Bruce and I, three Georgians having to traverse Waltham Park Road to get home. There was also Steele the entrepreneur, who alongside Andrew Hewitt and I had the great honor of serving as part of The APSIS Concept.
In our tiny mortal minds we think Steele transition is untimely, but so it is when mission control sends for its best stewards – the good die young. In closing I have written a short poem that captures the essence of the man in the lives of many Georgians:
If I were building a wall that had to be built
Fighting a war that had to be won
Running a mission that had to be run
Doing a deed that had to be done
I would not want you, I would CHOOSE you- Roan Kirk Anthony Steele to be by my side because we know you would not stop until that last brick was laid.
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam – For the greater glory of God!