John "Steven" Lowe

In Loving (and Laughing) Memory of Steve — Husband, Dad, Granddad, Legend (1953–2025)

Steve, age 71, has officially crossed the finish line — probably sideways, with tires smoking and Fleetwood Mac blasting — and traded his wrench for wings. He leaves behind a pit crew of heartbroken but incredibly lucky women: his beloved wife, Diana; his daughters Ashley Allison and Britt (his true masterpieces), and his grandkids, Caroline, Creighton, Harper, Pasquale and Matilda all of whom he adored more than any race car he ever built. Steve’s sons-in-law, Kirk and Patrick were two of his greatest joys mostly because he left this earthly adventure knowing his girls would be safe in the same kind of safe, loving arms that he raised them with. They are the sons he always wanted and the men with his same sense of duty, integrity and selflessness. And also because he got a real thrill and relief knowing that his daughters are officially their problem now.

Steve has been married to Diana for nearly 45 years. She’ll tell you that it wasn’t long enough, that life is better with Steve in it and that the life they built is more than they could have dreamed. She’ll also tell you it would have been a little easier if Dad could have said no to the girls a little more often and maybe not have hung his hoodie and leather bomber jacket on the back of the kitchen chair.

Steve leaves behind his best friend and brother, David Lowe. He lives in Charlotte now but entertained Steve’s phone calls at random hours of day and night that surely discussed random things like no one else could because no one else came from nothing and built everything like Steve did and no one else provided for their families like Steve and Dave and none else knew the childhood stories that probably shouldn’t be retold but are incredibly entertaining to listen to and no one else loves their kids like Steve and Dave. Steve’s cherished nephew, Justin Lowe also lives in Charlotte but will live on as Steve’s “Snake” and in my heart as the brother we never had.

Steve smoked like it was 1975, ran on Coca-Cola and potato chips like a finely tuned V8, and had more talents than a Swiss Army knife. Builder of race cars, flyer of airplanes, and fixer of just about anything — if it has a motor or wheels and determination could solve it, Steve was your guy.

He wore many hats, and not just the greasy or politically incorrect kind — mechanic, pilot, toolmaker, storyteller, animal whisperer, and, occasionally, the world’s loudest drummer. But of all the titles he held, “Husband,” Dad” and “Granddad” were the ones he wore most proudly. His girls were his world. His grandkids were the bananas on top of his bowl of vanilla ice cream.

His garage was his kingdom, his pick ‘em truck his throne, and his dog his best friend. his jokes were… just ok and Sometimes wildly inappropriate. But always, always told with a twinkle in his eye and the intent to bring a laugh.

In honor of Steve, we’d love for you to crack open a Coke, maybe sneak a Salem light and tell a joke that would’ve earned you a “STEVEN!” from Mom.

Remember him not with sadness, but with a smile and a quiet comfort that he truly believed: life is to be lived — loudly, lovingly, and full-throttle.

We love you, Dad. Drive fast, fly high, and save us a spot in the garage.

We’ll be at Dayton Memorial Park Cemetery, 8135 N. Dixie Drive, on Monday, June 2, 2025 at 10 am to place Dad on the other side of the grass. Please meet at cemetery entrance at 9:45 am.

To share a memory of Steven or leave a special message for his family, please visit the guestbook below.