Steven A. Myers

Steven A. Myers, 62, of Buffalo, Iowa, died Sunday, April 27, 2025, at his residence surrounded by those who loved him.

Please join us for a celebration of life at 1:00 p.m. June 7, at 107 South 2nd Street, Long Grove, Iowa 52756. We will share memories and stories as we celebrate the life and legacy of Steve. Please feel free to wear casual clothing. If you have a photo you’d like to share, please bring it with you. Lunch, lemonade, punch, water, and coffee will be provided. Bring your own alcoholic beverages and lawn chairs, if you choose too. We look forward to celebrating Steve with you.

Cremation will take place at Trimble Crematory, Moline, Illinois, under the direction of Cremation Society of the Quad Cities. Memorials may be made to the American Cancer Society in Steven’s Memory.

Steven Alan Myers was born December 20, 1962, in Iowa City, Iowa, the son of James and Grace (Caffery) Myers. He lived by the motto “Work hard, to play harder,” and he truly did both to the fullest. After high school, he entered the construction field and worked with dedication across various companies.

He was a daredevil, whom also lived a simple life. Not only did he work hard, but he had an unwavering love for friends and family. He had a wild and free spirit, and a heart of pure gold. He was the first to show up with tools, advice, or just a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood. Whether it was helping family, cutting down trees, splitting wood, or getting the fire started at camp, Steve was always there—usually with a story and maybe a scraped-up ATV in the background. He enjoyed fishing on the river, hunting, and riding any all-terrain vehicles he could get his hands on. His favorite place on Earth was camp—a haven for laughter, storytelling, and a little chaos surrounded by people he loved.

Steven is survived by his siblings, Mike (Susan) Hamilton, Cindy (Patrick) Jansen, Lorri (Jerry) Thompson, and Rose Gile; four step-children; six nieces and nephews, and seven great-nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents and a brother, Raymond Hamilton.

Next time you’re at camp, reeling in a fish, or just gunning it through the mud in a 4x4—think of Steve, crack a grin, open a beer, and remember: “Get’R Done.”