Stephen Thomas Joseph

Stephen Thomas Joseph, known to most as Steve, passed away on January 20, 2026, at the age of 67. Born on July 10, 1958, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Steve was, in three simple words, blunt, honest, and loving. He was the neighbor who showed up with a toolbox before you finished asking, the friend who could be counted on at any hour, and the stranger who became a helper in moments that mattered. Above all, he was generous—first to lend a hand, share what he knew, or quietly ensure someone else’s load was lighter. His presence filled a room with straight talk and a warm heart in equal measure.

Steve’s hands were rarely still. He loved to tinker, to build, and to turn ideas into sturdy, useful things. Whether repairing something worn or sketching out his next project, he found joy in making and in the patient problem-solving that came with it. He spoke his mind with no filter, and those who learned beside him knew his guidance to be plainspoken, practical, and kind. Sharing his time and knowledge came naturally; he believed that what you figure out, you pass along. In all he built, nothing mattered more than the loving family and home he created—a place shaped by his craftsmanship, his humor, and his unwavering reliability.

Steve’s greatest pride was his family. He is survived by his devoted wife, Dorothy; his daughter, Autumn, and her husband, Joel; his son, James, and his partner, Tara; and his beloved grandchildren, Ann Marie, Nicholas, Elise, Tyler, and Aubri, who lit up his days and kept him happily busy. Also part of his circle were Spooky the cat and Jeter the dog, faithful companions who rarely left his side. To his family, he was a steady hand and a straight shooter; to many others, he was the person you called when you needed anything—because Steve would be there.

A celebration of Steve’s life will be held at home at a later date. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the VFW in Saint Cloud in his honor. The family extends heartfelt thanks to Dr. Ortiz, Heather, and all of the nurses whose skill and compassion cared for him so well. Steve leaves us a blueprint for living: show up, say what you mean, fix what you can, and give generously of your time and knowledge. May we honor him by building—one project and one act of kindness at a time.