Stephen

Turning Seventeen

Stephen was on top of the world when he turned 17. His dreams had come true. He was living his dreams.

After Stephen and his mates cut a demo, it did get air play. People liked his song, and soon he had a manager to help him with business affairs. He recorded more songs, and did gigs on BBC shows featuring this thing called rock and roll.

Life was busy but hard. He played the working man's pubs, and the crowds loved him. The more he gave, the more the world wanted. His manager pushed Stephen to his limits.

As with doing gigs, there are other things that creep into life when you become a pop star. Drinking is a pretty normal passtime for one who is in the pub, and Stehphen did his share. He did the other things that were going around at the time. Drug use mushroomed in the sixties, and he was in the middle of the action. Everybody waas doing it.

He loved the life he was living, but he didn't take care of his physical needs, as happens when you're playing three sets a night, seven days a week. Maybe it wasn't every night he had a gig, but he was busy. Eventaully his body gave out on him.

He had to stop the pace. He entered the hospital, the Harley Street Nursing Home in London, and remained for quite some time. The congestion in his lungs took his breath away for some time.

Tuberculosis can be lethal, and the many months Stephen was away from the music business, his guitar went to the side, and his brain went through a sort of rebirth. He was close to death at times, and realized it afterward. It was frightening to think of his own death at such a young age.

In one year, he had entered into the stardom of rock and roll singer fame. He had a recording contract with a major label, songs came to him relatively easily. He was bringing in a sizeable income for a young kid. Money doesn't keep you well, and he couldn't keep up the pace. In a strange way, tuberculosis gave him a second start, with a more spiritual basis.

As he recouperated he thought about life, and what if he had no more life. What if that was all the life he was allowed this time around. What happens when you die? And the purpose of life, "What is it?" he asked himself.

By age 18, he'd recovered enought to return home to live at his parents flat. He welcomed the security of home and family, and painted the room that was now "his," red. Red is Stephen's favourite colour. This, it seems to me, is just one of the unusual piccadillos that makes Stephen the person he has become. He worked to know more about himself when he was ill.

He had almost died. God gave him another shot at this thing called life. He believed it was for a reason, and gained a personal faith that is impossible to explain from the outside. Faith is a persoanl thing, and sharing this with another is not the status quo of rockers.

From his little red room, Stephen continued with his thoughts about love and life. He penned lyrics, chords, notes, and new songs hit the British charts as his health slowly returned. He had learned a valuable lesson.

He had almost died from letting his ego, and the human desire for fame and fortune rule his life. He had another chance to get back in the business. He did. He became even more widely known in the UK, and soon his manager set him off to the States for a tour. After the States, it all became even bigger.

Stephen was happy, loved, and had the world on his string. He didn't forget his close call with death, but it was no longer filling his mind or world. The world of fame and fortune was. His twenties were the music of the early 70s, and his songs were chart toppers.

"They made me a lot of money, actually, is what (the songs) did."