Steve Ramsey

by Cindy Ramsey

“It’s hard to stand at the edge of someone else’s grief and know what to say as comforting words.”

This truth was spoken by Marie Wilson, one of our Oak Island friends we met through the turtle program. As true and profound as they are, all of you, our friends and extended family, have given us comfort through words and memories of your time with Steve and our family. Many of you have expressed concern that you didn’t know he was sick. Please don’t feel bad about that. He was a very private person, and that’s the way that he wanted it.

I want to share with you a few of the very special messages friends and family have sent proving that your words have been comforting. You have described Steve as gentle, kind, talented, hardworking – all words that describe him well.

One of Joy’s high school friends described him as being the kind of man she thought a father should be because he was always there for his children. So many of you have spoken about what a great family man he was, and that would make him proud, although humble.

Katie, another of our very special Oak Island friends, said he was the best person she ever knew.

It speaks volumes about Steve’s character and family values that he worked thirty-five years in a job he didn’t like but that supported his family well. He made many lifelong friendships with coworkers, and an impression on the younger men. One named Paul said this:

“Steve was such a great person…he was not just my supervisor at Oxy Chem…but a true friend who gave me worth and value…I loved when Steve agreed with me but didn’t. He would just say, “You’re not right,“ with that slight smirk smile… Steve was one of the best guys I knew…and yes, he wore the white cowboy hat…he was a true ‘Good Guy’!”

When Steve retired, he started doing the work that he really loved. What had been a hobby for many years became what he called his “hobby job” saying that he was just piddling. But all of us know that it was far more than that. Many of you have expressed how grateful you are to own a piece of his incredible woodworking. Steve was very modest about his artistic vision and talent.

He would pick up pieces of a downed tree beside the road, take it home, saw it up, and let it dry, then turn it into something beautiful. His favorite wood was black walnut, and he could spot a tree a mile away. I remember and laugh about how on one of our annual trips to the mountains, he made himself carsick turning his head back and forth amazed by how many black walnut trees he saw. I’m glad I was driving.

All of you who have seen his work or own a piece he has made, whether it be jewelry boxes, cutting boards, cheese slicers, or something else, know that he was truly an artist. And his art lives as a testament to that talent in so many homes of people we know and even more we did not know who purchased from him at craft shows and festivals.

Almost everyone in our extended family has a cutting board – they made excellent wedding and holiday gifts.

Some of them recently had an online discussion about the use of the cutting boards, starting with my sister, Janet.

She wrote: “I remember when Steve gave me a beautiful cutting board he made and when I said I would hang it on the wall because it was too beautiful to use, he was upset. Sorry Steve, but I could not do that to a piece of art. I cherish it.”

Then her daughter, Jennifer, responded:

“I still have and cherish the beautiful cutting board he made that you guys gifted me for a wedding gift. Like Mom, I was hesitant to use it because it is so beautiful, but I use it daily, and it’s still beautiful because it was made so well.

Our niece Brianna said,

“When Uncle Steve found out I wasn’t using mine, he told me that the whole reason he made them was so they would be used and filled with memories. Now I use them all the time, and I love them so much.”

Pat from Southport, who was first a customer, then a dear friend said:

“Besides adding to our lives with his beautiful unique boxes, which we treasure, Steve custom made two very thin and lightweight cutting boards for me because I told him that heavy cutting boards hurt my arthritic hands. I was so touched and impressed with how considerate a person he was.”

I love hearing stories like that because they speak perfectly to the kind of man Steve was.

Before our grandchildren were born, we practiced becoming grandparents with our great nieces. They recalled special times with Uncle Steve.

Megan said:

“I love you guys very much! Uncle Steve and you were always examples to me of what loving your life beyond the four walls looked like. Everywhere you two went, love followed and left a little trail of you two behind, and I am very lucky to carry a piece of that with me wherever I go. Even down to my recent adventure working with horses. Every day, I think of the memories waking up early to feed with you. And I hold it all very close to my heart, especially all the wonderful meals we got to share after saying grace.”

Justine, another great niece, said:

“I will always remember Uncle Steve showing us the horses and taking us out on the four-wheeler. The Easter egg hunts and get-togethers with such delicious home-cooked food at your home will forever be such a special memory for me! We love you!”

Steve loved watching our granddaughters participate in sports of all kinds, but volleyball was his favorite. We made many acquaintances with other parents and grandparents at high school and club games and many have expressed how much they loved watching him watch the girls. I want to share what one mother named Amy said:

“My time with Steve was always related to volleyball, and it was immediately obvious how much he loved his family. It was evident in the glimmer in his eyes and his smile as he watched his granddaughters play.”

Our Oak Island friend Marie also said, “Grief is not an easy road, but it is easier to navigate with the ones you love by your side.”

How true that is. Our family has always been close in heart, but not always close in proximity since our children grew up and moved away to start their own families. Any of you who knew us back when our children were growing up, know that we were always present in whatever activities were important to them.

Years later, numerous times as we missed big and small events with our grandchildren even though we drove several hours to be there as often as we could, I would suggest to Steve that maybe we should move closer to the kids, but he was never in favor of that. In most recent years we lived on Oak Island, and I can never express how special our seven years living there were to us, our children, and our granddaughters. We made incredible and priceless memories together, so that timing was right.

But a couple of years ago, Steve told me he thought we should move closer to the kids. It was a shock to all of us. Even he did not know what changed his mind. We moved to Mebane in May of 2025, and he started feeling bad later that same year, being diagnosed with cancer in November.

Our new location was a gift. We were close to world class care at UNC Hospital without having to drive over three hours for treatment, and we were close to our children and grandchildren. Having their help and seeing them often was the greatest gift of all. We eventually understood that it was not really our decision to move at all – it was divine intervention, and we are so thankful for that still quiet voice that led us here.

Steve was not ready to go. He wanted to finish teaching Kamryn how to make cutting boards and take her out to eat crab legs. He wanted to go to every one of Lainey’s volleyball games during her senior year, see her graduate, and find out what college she chose to pursue her dreams. He wanted to go watch Brynn play soccer and have more time to tell her that when she was at our house and wanted something, she should not ask permission from her mom, but “Ask PopPop.” He wanted to travel to gymnastics meets to watch Emma and Ava compete, and he wanted more time to revel in their infectious laughter when they visited our home – even if sometimes he had to retreat to his shop for a little peace and quiet. He wanted to watch all five of our granddaughters grow up to become the amazing women he knew they all would be.

Steve amazed us all by knowing how to do so many different things. Long before you could watch a YouTube video, he could repair almost anything, and he was not finished teaching those skills to our grown children.

Brad is very self-sufficient like his dad, but Steve wanted to be able to continue teaching and learning everything with him – as adults and friends. He wanted to help Dennis in his construction business. He wanted to nurture Pete’s new-found love of tools and building things. He got as far as teaching Joy how to use the planer in the shop, but he had a lot more tools to teach and wanted to help her build wormy chestnut boxes to hold the photo books she had printed of her children as they grew up. He wanted to watch more hockey games with Kim who introduced him to the sport and helped him learn the rules so he could love it. He was right there in his recliner in front of the television watching and cheering them on when the Carolina Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup.

His job of raising amazing children was finished years ago, but he loved every minute he spent with the incredible adults and parents they became. He wanted more of those moments to treasure.

Steve was not ready to go – we still had trips to plan to the beach and to the mountains and to places we had yet to see. Steve and I had been together since I was sixteen years old, so I’m not sure what life looks like without him. I am just so grateful that God gifted us with amazing children and grandchildren to help me find my way.

When the cancer metastasized to his bones and Steve’s pain became unbearable -- so bad that even hugs hurt -- he was ready to go. And as much as we wanted to keep him here, we did not want him to suffer any more. He was ready to go because he knew where he was going.