Stephen Dale Piraino

Years before his death, Steve told his daughter, “When I die, I don’t want a funeral. I want a big party where the only rule is no one is allowed to cry.” Even at the very end, he did his usual eye-roll and small shake of his head, and said to a room full of tears, “There’s no reason to cry.”

He was born in California and grew up in a three-bedroom house that he shared with three brothers and two sisters. Whenever he spoke about his childhood, his memories centered around baseball. Everyone in town knew the members of the Piraino family were excellent ball players. As a kid, he liked to hang around the stadium with his friends to see if they could score free tickets to a game. If not, they’d sit and listen to it on the radio, imaging they were in the stands. His popularity really began in junior high where all the students knew his name. Through his involvement with the high school fraternities, alternating being president with his best friend, kids at all the other schools in Southern California knew who he was, too. He always had someone to move to the music with at the fraternity dances. As one of the biggest guys, no one ever messed with him. “It’s good they thought I was a tough guy, because I didn’t want to fight anyone anyway,” he said with that famous shake of his head, slight scrunch of his nose.

After leaving home, he began his career in manufacturing before spending two years managing the band Somersault. He joked that managing was the only way he could be connected to music since no one would ever want to listen to him play or sing anyway. He liked to tell stories about that time period in his life – some of which he may not want his grandchildren to read (don’t worry, Steve, your secret is safe).

Shortly after the band, he moved to Georgia where he went back to work in manufacturing. His work ethic and popularity followed him as he moved from working on the plant floor into corporate positions. Even though he maintained his friendships from California, Georgia is where he got married and started his family. For Steve, family also consisted of close friendships, friendships that have lasted for decades. It wasn’t unusual for the people he met throughout his years to call him for advice about anything and everything – life, love, money, Steve listened and offered wisdom on it all. His guidance was objective and reasonable, always tailored to whoever he was talking to, never generic.

After being in Georgia for nearly twenty years, he and his wife moved back to California. It was there when he found out he was going to become a grandparent. He joked that he wasn’t going to be a “Peepaw” or “Gramps.” He was far too regal for that and his Italian ancestors would roll over if that’s what he was called. “You can call me Grandfather,” he said, shaking his head once again, “or King Steve.” From that moment on his family would never call him anything else.

The name was fitting because it showed both his humor and his grace. He received everyone into his kingdom of blended family with love and acceptance. He was protective and never afraid to stand up for his children – including using his Italian name to his advantage by pretending to be in the Mafia to tell some kids to lay off his son. He loved his children, but his grandchildren were the driving force that brought him back to Georgia eleven years ago. After being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, the time he spent with family became more important.

During his time back, he was truly able to grow closer to his children, fortifying his relationship with them as adults. His disease took away his ability to walk, but gave him a greater intuition for the wants and needs of those around him. It could be small things like hiding dum-dum lollipops in his shirt pocket for the kids to find when they were toddlers or buying them their own bikes to ride at his house. He taught them about government and economics, and taught them lessons through his stories that they didn’t realize were life lessons at all. The swings in his backyard were for the grandkids, but also for him to watch them play, a tangible thing he could give to them to enjoy when he couldn’t be there to push them himself.

His last two weeks saw a quick decline, but on his last night, he was able to gather the strength and clarity to leave his family with these words: “I love you. I’m proud of you. I have no regrets. I’m ready. Thank you.” He had his wife, children, daughter- and son-in law, and eldest granddaughter with him during his final moments. While his family may not be able to honor his only rule of no tears at his party, they will celebrate the life of a king and give his final words back to him.

King Steve – We love you. We’re proud of the man you were and the man you influenced us to be. We have no regrets. We’re ready for you to be at peace. Thank you.

Steve leaves behind wife, Elva; children, Kelly (Alex) and Steven (Tyra); and seven grandchildren, Meagan (Chase), Jonathan, Tyler, Abby, Grace, Allison, and Hayden.

No services are scheduled at this time.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.carmichaelhemperleypeachtree.com for the Piraino family.