Meticulous. Gregarious . Never on time.
And, of course, always pushing deadline. That is how I will remember longtime sports writing compatriot and friend Steve Tappa. My former colleague and 3 a.
m. club member for 20-plus years passed away at home in the early hours of Tuesday morning. The Bettendorf High School and St.
Ambrose University graduate left us at the all-too-young age of 58. He packed about 120 years of activities and events into those years. He was an award-winning writer for The Dispatch/Argus, starting as a part-timer while in school at SAU before shifting to a full-time position in January of 1989.
It is the second time in just short of a year that a colleague — both named Steve — has passed. This one, though, hits differently. Tappa and I were usually the last ones out of the office most nights/early mornings, forming a close bond that was never broken.
Being younger (and dumber) than me, he usually out-lasted me when it came to calling it a night. In fact, Stevie rarely called it a night. For him, working at least two jobs in the early days of his career, meant lots of all-nighters and morning naps to try to rejuvenate for the next all-nighter that loomed and the never-ending list of tasks that awaited.
He was a marvel at burning the candle at both ends — living on what affectionately became known as "Tappa time" — but it caught up with him over the years. While he could be infuriating when it came to turning a story on deadline, his attention to de.