A native of Iowa City, IA, Steve graduated from Iowa City High School in 1985, where he achieved all-state recognition in tennis and choir. Appearing in 3 Iowa State High School Boys Tennis finals, Steve partnered with Mike Cram to win the Doubles Championship in 1983. He received a degree in political science and history from Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter, MN where he played varsity tennis on 3 conference-championship teams and was active in the Gustavus choir. After college, Steve worked as a tennis professional in the Twin Cities before beginning a long and successful career in financial services, first with American Express and then Thrivent Financial, where he excelled in helping others achieve their goals. 

Steve was a loving, dedicated father and husband who always put family first. He enjoyed golf, music, and travel and was a passionate fan of the Iowa Hawkeyes. When not watching the Hawks, he could often be found cheering on the Vikings, Twins, and especially the Chicago Cubs. Steve relished spending time with his many long-time friends, and all who knew him will deeply miss his easy humor, intelligence, boundless generosity, and unfailing loyalty.

Steve is survived by daughters Stephanie Molen and Katelyn Molen; son Joe Hrabe, daughter-in-law Melodie and granddaughter Juniper; his mother Marilyn and sister, Kristin Harbin and nieces Hannah Harbin, Courtney Harbin and nephew Davis Harbin, all of Orlando FL. He was preceded in passing by his father Theodore, wife Lorie, and brother-in-law Grant.

There will be a family gathering held at a later date.  Please post your memories, stories, photos, and videos of Steve on this bulletin board for Steve's friends and family to see.

 

Aren’t we still young, vibrant, healthy, and invincible? Because even though we’re now middle-aged fathers and husbands with mortgages and bad backs, closer to retirement than graduation, that’s how I still think of us. As Rod Stewart sang, forever young.

 

But Steve’s not here anymore and I just can’t wrap my head around that. I keep expecting him to comment in our group chats or send a random text asking me about the Hawks or how my daughter's golf game is. He thought it was so cool that she played college golf and I’ll always be thankful for his interest in her progress and how proud that made me feel as her father. 

 

And now he exists only in our minds and memories, where he won’t grow old or sick or have to deal with life’s disappointments; where he’ll continue to mock Marty, harass Jimmy, and demand that we do certain...."things" to ourselves. 

 

Steve was certainly one of a kind. He had the unique ability to make you laugh, push your buttons, and make you feel like his closest friend, sometimes all within the same conversation. I remember how he was seemingly unafraid to do or say something completely random, inappropriate, or unconventional at any given time. In 7^th grade, he wore a t-shirt that said, ‘Tennis Players Have Fuzzy Balls.’ It takes a pretty confident 13-year old to wear that shirt. Steve had a strong personality, thought about things just a little bit differently, and could be quite blunt. But regardless of what he did or said, you really couldn’t be angry with him.

 

I remember the weekend we spent at the church camp outside of Maquoketa putting together our 4^th Avenue show in the fall of ’84. We were all showering one morning (we did that back in the old days) and I happened to be standing next to Steve. I made some smart-ass comment to him – about what, I don’t recall – then proceeded to wash my hair. As I stood there with my soap in my eyes, I felt an odd sensation. I rinsed off the suds and opened my eyes to see Steve standing there with that devilish grin he had, peeing on my leg. Typical Steve. 

 

We’ve all had experiences with disappointment and heartache in our lives and Steve was no different. But I know he was incredibly grateful for the support of his friends and for the connections we all maintained through the years, even over long distances. Our game day chats and Zoom ‘Happy Hours’ brought him a lot of joy and I’m glad to have contributed to some of that happiness. I think it’s only human nature to wonder if any of us really make a difference in the world, but I know that we made a difference in Steve’s life, and in the lives of each other. And that makes me happy.

 

I’ve been blessed with a photographic memory and I’m thankful that much of it is filled with snapshots of good times with wonderful people. They’re like little treasures that I keep stored away behind the random movie trivia and the current location of my reading glasses. Every now and then, when I need a smile, I get some of them out and dust them off. I've been doing that more frequently in the past week or so and I hope, if you're reading this, that you'll take a few moments to reflect on your memories of Steve and share them here as well. 

 

I’ll be forever grateful for Steve’s friendship, just as I am for all of yours. We’ll miss him terribly, but I don’t think he would want us to dwell on that. As Dr. Seuss wrote, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

- Mitch

 

I got a glimpse of the professional Steve years later when he came to Chicago for a Thrivent event and invited me.  He introduced me to many of his colleagues, and every one of them went out of their way to tell me what a great guy Steve was, and what a positive difference he’d made in their careers.  It’s one of my favorite memories of him.  (Of course, as Steve would’ve done in my place, I responded by acting surprised, pointing at him and asking, “That Steve??”)

Steve had many close friends, including several friends from childhood.  Even as we spread across the country and got busy with careers and families, he maintained those friendships.  When he went through dark times, Steve pulled us together and leaned on us in a way that made us all closer…and stronger.  Though we mostly spoke in insults to each other, Steve always let us know how much he cherished those relationships.  His authenticity and love for family and friends were his guiding force; they made him a great husband and father, a wonderful friend, and the best brother a guy could ask for.  What I wouldn’t give for just one more Iowa football game, or round of golf, or BS session over pizza at Pagliai’s.  Heck, I’d settle for one more phone call, one more text about the Hawkeyes.

My heart breaks for Steve’s girls and Joe, and for Marilyn, Kristen & her kids.  Heartfelt condolences from all The Halls--my parents and sisters loved Steve too.  I hope these expressions of love and appreciation from Steve’s friends bring some solace.

How lucky we are, to have had something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

-Haller