HAZELWOOD: Steve Gray was always there for many

"Why are you here?" When Steve Gray sat down next to me in the third quarter of a Norwalk basketball game on Dec. 9, he asked that question. Of course, he delivered his query with a wry grin. Although after that talk, we went back and forth another four or five times in text messages, those aren't quite the same as real-time conversation: it's our last time together that has left me transfixed. Nothing will ever be the same after Steve Gray's sudden death on Dec. 28, 2025. He passed away after a single-car crash on West Main Street that was apparently caused by a medical emergency. The days and weeks since that Sunday have been a real struggle to accept that none of us will have another opportunity to talk with such a popular and gregarious man. Trying to write about countless interactions between us during 24 years of sports and friendship would take weeks — and seems impossible, really. I documented many of those when he retired after 21 years as the head basketball coach at Norwalk High School in March 2022. Over the two-plus decades, we shared plenty of words, viewpoints and good conversations. Ironically, we interacted even more in the nearly four years since he stepped down from his job as Norwalk High School's basketball coach. I often joked that he "harassed" me more in his retirement than he did while coaching. The truth is, I loved it. The outpouring of grief and remembrances of Gray has seemed endless. That shouldn't surprise anyone who knew him. But as reality sets in, I keep going back to that final opening line he gave me to start a long conversation. We talked basketball — the game in front of us — and about various college and pro sports, and even religion; not surprisingly, he appreciated the 'faster pace' of 5 p.m. Mass on Sundays at St. Paul Catholic Church. I don't know about answering his question, 'why are you here?' but I know why Steve Gray was here. More correctly, what he did for so many basketball players, people in Norwalk and the area, and for many he met along the way, was "be there," as it's often said these days. He was 'there' after one of his players, Jacob McKenzie, broke the C4 and C5 vertebrae in his neck after a freak accident at home in June 2008. Gray was the only person from NHS at the hospital after McKenzie had been flown to Toledo for surgery and he briefly spoke to him before the procedure. "I walked out of that room thinking, 'please let this kid walk again and lead a normal life,'" Gray told me. "Basketball or athletics weren't even a thought at that time." Just a few years ago, he was again 'there' for one of his players, Braedyn Demuth, in his recovery from Hodgkin's lymphoma in 2021. Gray gave a heartfelt speech before Demuth pressed the scoreboard buzzer, akin to the traditional "bell-ringing" at hospitals to mark the end of cancer treatments. But few know all that he did to make that night special. Gray made sure his speech had been looked over numerous times and made sure to tell me every detail he put in place for reporting accuracy. Months earlier, Gray and longtime assistant coach, Nick Lee, had driven to Clyde to watch Demuth's initial return to the soccer field. Gray was also 'there' at basketball's opening weekend in the 2002-03 season when the Truckers hosted the Western Reserve Roughriders. They were led by Chris Sheldon, a rookie head coach with a familiar last name in local coaching circles. Chris, then just 25 years old, spent the first quarter coaching as if his life depended on it. His screaming was worthy of a tournament game as the 'Riders struggled to score. Gray then looked to the Western bench and got Chris's attention. He had coached against Sheldon's father, Rob, for many years at Lexington while the elder Sheldon led Bucyrus Wynford. "Steve looked at me and said, 'would you just relax? You're fine. Your kids are doing what you asked them to do,'" Chris Sheldon recalled of the 60-55 loss. "And that moment right there, for him to take a minute in a game that is still in question and help me reset as the opponent … I thought it always spoke volumes about who he was." I had a front-row seat when Gray was 'there' for NHS volleyball coach Sarah Kipp. She was running the scoreboard clock for the first time at a basketball game and had made a slight error, which was corrected. In the bleachers and seated directly behind Kipp, an opponent's fan got chippy with some comments. Matt Chapin, keeping the official scorebook that night for Norwalk, tried unsuccessfully to shut off the jeers. Suddenly, however, the heckler got quiet when the game was stopped — halted because at the end of the Norwalk bench, Gray had turned around and asked him if he had a problem. "Steve stood up for me in a moment he absolutely didn't have to," Kipp said. "Even though I thanked him, he'll never know how much that meant to me." He was 'there' both times his wife, Sue, battled cancer. The second time notably came during the era of the Truckers' 91-9, four-year run that culminated in the 2014 OHSAA state championship. Gray was ready to immediately quit coaching to support his wife during her second round of treatments, but she rebuffed that offer. Nick and Stefanie Lee are transplant Norwalk residents. They lived near Steve and Sue Gray for eight years and, coupled with Nick's 13 years as an assistant coach, grew close as friends. The relationship also extended to the Lees' children, Evie and James, having 'bonus' Norwalk grandparents. In a different way of 'being there,' the Grays babysat, attended birthday parties, sporting events and piano recitals. They showed up in ways the Lee family never could have expected. I still recall the night in June 2010 when horrific news reached the Sandusky newsroom about the sudden death of Stefen McKinney, just 19 years old. McKinney had played basketball at NHS for a couple of years. Our reporter on the story was looking for someone from the NHS to talk to, and I suggested Coach Gray, not really knowing if he would be willing. He went one better, talking for more than 10 minutes about McKinney, noting that the young man loved life, loved basketball, and was a good teammate. Gray went on to talk about his family and how fun McKinney was to be around, while offering condolences on behalf of the basketball program and school. Gray could easily have felt out of place or passed on offering comments, but he was 'there' to make sure people knew a bit more about who McKinney was during an incredibly difficult time. Aubrie (Chaffins) Wallrabenstein vividly recalls when Gray was 'there' for her. A 2014 NHS graduate, the former softball player got pregnant with her first of four children before she graduated. "He was the only one from school to sit with me and ask if I was OK and if there was anything I needed — with zero judgment," Wallrabenstein said. "Just kindness. He was so kind-hearted and asked what he could do to help make it easier instead of warning me I threw my life away. I'll never, ever forget that." As for me, my relationship with Steve Gray went from basic sports reporting — a profession where we are all friendly on the surface — to a wonderful, years-long friendship. The reality of sports at any level is that coaches come and go. And when they leave, losing touch with them is all too common. But in this instance, I was lucky to get the opposite. I was often on the receiving end of his playful banter in public places, notably on the airwaves of WLKR radio. He liked working as the color announcer for local contests and always seemed to ramp up his commentary when I was working at the same game. Part of his radio-nights fun included hoping that junior-varsity games would go into overtime to make my nights longer and stressful. Talking into the microphone, he would make eye contact with me and then give me a playful jab on the air, knowing I could see him but not hear what he said. And even though he enjoyed nothing more than giving me a hard time, he and I had a much bigger friendship than just teasing and chatting. He always kept tabs on my family events ("Sue showed me on Facebook") and truly wanted to know how we all were doing. At least once a year, he re-read my book on the 2014 state championship season. I'd receive a message stating that he liked the book's ending ("Did you know we won?"), but also a heartfelt appreciation for writing it. Every year for the past decade-plus, I could always count on his congratulatory text during newspaper awards season. As much as he poked fun at me, he also always had a compliment or words of encouragement in both public and private. And I've come to realize that this is his significant trait: with Steve Gray, neither the moments that people here have mentioned, nor those that I had with him, are out of the ordinary. Hundreds of others share similar memories of high-interest, kind, and special interactions with him. No human being is perfect or liked by everyone. At his induction to the NHS Athletics Hall of Fame in January 2023, his first sentence was an invitation to all former players in attendance to come stand with him. Gray told the audience he had quite a few "negative qualities" himself, but that he always had the players' best interests at heart. And I am also neither special or nor alone when I say that I already desperately miss our interactions and messages to each other. No Truckers' football, basketball, or soccer games will ever quite be the same now that he is gone. Steve Gray had an incredible ability to command a room as the loudest voice without trying — but also to make the quietest person feel important. He was here because he was a lot of things to a lot of different people. To that end, I'll close this tribute to my great good friend the way he habitually finished every conversation he had with anyone: "Take care of yourself."