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Stephen Maynard Clark
April 23rd, 1960 - January 8th, 1991
Forever missed and always in our hearts...
May you rest in peace SMC...
We love you...
Happy New Year everybody. Here we are at the dawn of a new millenium right. Where is Steve? Up in heaven we hope, looking down on us. I can't believe it has been 9 years since Steve passed away. To me it feels like such a short time. I guess years pass swiftly in retrospect. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him, speak of him, or miss him. I realize that I'm not alone and that there are many people out there who miss him terribly too. As we approach the 10 year anniversary of his death, more and more people have reached out to me for some kind of understanding of who he was and why he's gone. That is why I 've decided to break my silence and share some thoughts about him.
The big question is why did he want to die so young? Only God and Steve really know the answer to that. The rest of us can only speculate. I believe that we all have a purpose here on earth. We all have our business to tend to. Steve surely had his. He was born blessed with many gifts, some of which led him to his amazing success. He wrote heart wrenching rock ballads, pop rock hits, stadium stompers. He played a mean Les Paul and with every note he bent, with every shape he threw, and with every toothy grin, he won a heart. He was the heart and soul of Def Leppard.
Steve came
from Sheffield as we all know. The Sheffield Steve grew up in was a busy industrial town
who's main claim to fame was that of the production of steel. When he was a boy the
factories were up and running. Right through to his early teens he watched them run the
city and then as the industrial age turned into the age of communication he watched them
close. One by one. His fathers friends and his neighbors lost their jobs and Sheffield
became a depressed city. The mentality of his countrymen was get whatever job you could
and hold on to it. Playing guitar in a rock band was only a dream and a fleeting one at
that. He did not get a lot of support for his dreams, especially from his father who's
generation never understood the possibilities of fame and fortune in a depressed town like
Sheffield.
No, that was for the Londoners, the Liverpudlians, the Americans. But Steve was a dreamer, a stubborn and determined one. He set out to prove them wrong. When Steve made it in the world of fame and fortune his father was proud, but still, Steve had proved him wrong. Steve carried a lot of guilt around for that and was forever trying to make up for his successes. Besides all that, Steve had a disease. Back in the early eighties when I came into his life, we were too young and dumb to know about alcoholism. We lived in Europe and the UK and no one over there was talking about AA. AA was only begining to get notoriety in the US and we weren't hip to it until we started to move back to the US some years later. Unfortunately Steve's disease was already in full swing by then. I had friends who were in the program who were getting help and getting sober. I began to learn more about the disease through them and then by going to meetings myself. Steve tried too but he came from a background that told people "you can't" and I came from one that told people "You can". That is one of the great things about being an American, we are allowed to dream our dreams. Whatever they may be.
Jimmy Page was Steve's hero. Stairway to Heaven was one of the first songs he learned. I remember one time when we were on the Hysteria tour and Def Leppards plane was landing in Chicago at the same time Jimmy Page's plane was landing. Steve was so nervous about meeting him he poured a full glass of Vodka into one of those tall red plastic cups and was drinking it as we got off the plane. At the bottom of the stairs Jimmy Page was waiting to meet the band with his entourage and when he met steve he asked him for a drink. Steve could barely contain his excitement after his hero drank from his cup. Even Jimmy Page couldn't believe how strong his drink was!
Steve had
some other problems besides drinking. He called me from one treatment center and said
"It's ok Marth, I'm not an alcoholic, I'm manic depressive." "I know",
I said, "but you have to stop the drinking in order to treat the depression."
Steve didn't want to hear that. Anything but stopping drinking. That was what relieved his
pain, his guilt, his voices. I think his depression was worse than manic. I think it was
maybe bi-polar. Back then they didn't have much information on Bi-polar disorder as they
do now. I have a 21 year old nephew. A beautiful boy who's been institutionalized for over
three years now with that sort of depression. He's being treated for it but they can't
stop the voices. It's very sad. Steve's disease got him before he got it. I think his life
has served a purpose. To teach the rest of us to look at our own lives. Deal with our own
issues. Face our own pain. I have learned so much from my experience living with Steve and
alcoholism and co-dependency. I hope that if anyone out there has even an inkling of a
problem with any of these things they will go and get help. Or at least learn about the
disease. We know it is hereditary, (Steve came from a long line of drinkers). We know that
it breaks up families, friendships, and love affairs. We know that it kills.
Some people out there are angry with me. Some people blame me for not saving him when they didn't really have the facts. That's ok. I was angry too. But now I see that we all have a purpose and I have lived through the love and suffered the loss of Steve so that I could find my self, understand and fulfill my purpose here on earth. Thanks to those people, (you know who you are), for helping to keep Steve's memory alive. I'm sure he is grateful and so am I. To Steve's fans everywhere,"Happy New Year, and good luck in this new century".
As Steve would say...."All the Best".
Peace, Lorelei.