Remembering Steve Clark

A man of character and joy leaves too soon

By BRENDON VOELKER

This past April 17th, the Plateau lost one of its most beloved and valued residents, Stephen Clark. Former owner of Buck’s Coffee at the Crossroads in Cashiers, Clark had been pouring coffee, making lattes, and crafting sandwiches since moving to Highlands in 2001. Unfortunately, he passed away at the age of 53 after battling brain cancer, yet his legacy will live on throughout the community.

When COVID first hit in 2020, he was one of the first connections I made in Cashiers as I caught him running down the unpaved Valley Road once the temperature warmed up. After battling one of the first rounds of COVID-19 that season, I struggled to regain my identity as a distance runner until I met him. An impromptu introduction at Buck’s led to us swapping information and arranging our first run together. Looking back, we ran together nearly 50 times over a few years, giving me a unique perspective on his life.

As a newer resident of Cashiers, I was impressed by his dedication, commitment, and passion for running, which led to a valued friendship. Rain or shine, cold or hot, he never ceased to amaze me with his speed, agility and perseverance, even when he was not feeling great. On one occasion, we ran the track in Sapphire Valley, and to this day, I have never seen anyone run laps at his pace. My fastest speed was his coasting pace, but he was always patient never  leaving me behind.

Most days, we would meet around lunch for a one-hour run through town, during which he quickly showed me all the ins and outs of what roads were ideal and which were not. He was consistent, and a creature of habit, especially about his love for his family. I can think of few occasions when he did not take the opportunity to express how proud he was of his children, Lydia, Alexander and India.

When he was not running, he would often invite me to the gym or to play tennis, though I rarely had the opportunity to join. He was constantly training for something, though many of his goals fell short due to an injury he silently struggled to overcome.

I never expected him to pass away unexpectedly. He was the epitome of fitness, with a sense of humor that supported me when I was not at the top of my game. On one occasion, we met on a rural road in Franklin to run 13 miles, a run he practically carried me through mentally. Another time, I convinced him to begin his run on the pavement from the road to the trail. He preferred softer surfaces but humored me that day, and for once, I felt I had the upper hand over this incredible athlete.

Outside our runs, we shared few connections; I never got to know his family and only met a few select friends through running. But our shared passion for running brought us together and his friendship meant more to me than I had ever had the chance to express.