Steven Gary Nelson

From a young age, Steve was hands on with everything. He would take things apart just to learn how they worked and if he could fix it.

In 1960, when Steve was just ten years old, his father would start a business endeavor that would change the course of Steve’s life and the following generations of Nelsons. California Snack Foods started as a small snack company that sold hand-dipped “karm’l dapples” and with Steve’s knack for tinkering, would grow to a business that sells more than one million apples a year with his three sons now carrying on his legacy.

As a young man, Steve wasn’t particularly interested in school but instead could be found working on old cars or playing with machinery. His biggest school interest was a girl he met in the seventh grade and in 1968, Mary Lou Buch and Steve were married. They soon welcomed their first of six children, four of whom grew up on the property at “The Shop”. Mary and Steve worked there together, while raising their family, for fifty years.

Steve was incredibly dedicated to The Shop. He’d spend hours working on machines - many of which are still used today. He had a true gift for fixing and improving, and most importantly, he genuinely cared about the people who worked there. What started as a family business truly felt like one. Small gestures like buying lunch every day for the office and large ones like helping families when they were in need, Steve was loyal and incredibly generous.

But it’s what Steve did when he came home from work that truly mattered and defined who he was.

After work, he’d rush home, take a shower and put on jeans and a white t-shirt before making his family dinner with a dish towel over his shoulder. He was a great cook. Every night, his family sat down to a candlelit dinner starting first with salads on a chilled plate. Somehow, he found the time to remember what was going on in his kid’s lives, even the small things, and ask how they were going.

Summers were spent by the pool with UB40, Bob Marley, and the sound of Vin Scully’s voice calling Dodger games playing in the background. On a clear night, Jennifer would sit on his lap and look at the stars, and he’d smell like the grill when he gave hugs goodnight. When Crystal was a teenager, they started playing tennis after dinner every night. After the dishes were done, Steve would say, “Are you ready to play tennis?” and they’d drive around until they could find empty, lighted courts. In 1976, Steve and Mary bought a home in Lake Arrowhead and Julie remembers riding with Steve on the back of a motorcycle. Chad remembers how special dad always made birthdays. Jason remembers being a young teen and getting to go with Steve to an auction to buy a new oven for the bakery. Afterwards, they watched boxing and ate a steak dinner.

Family vacations were always a priority. Steve loved to travel, especially during the time the family was living at the shop. It was a true getaway. In fact, almost every time they went to Hawaii they’d end up changing their flights the day before they were supposed to come home so they could stay a few more days.

None of the kids ever left the house without a kiss and an “I love you”.

One of the biggest ways Steve showed his love was gifts. When the kids turned 13, he would take them shopping and let them buy whatever they want - a tradition that’s carried on with the grandkids. On Christmas Eve, Steve would go shopping for Mary. He’d go into Nordstroms and ask for the cashmere sweaters. Instead of picking just one, he’d get one in every color and style. Then he’d go to the Hallmark store and buy a dozen of whatever collectible Mary was into at the time. For a while it was bells and then Disney figurines. One year, he took the girls shopping with him and gave them an envelope of money to shop, too. That started his tradition of giving the kids an envelope with money on Christmas Eve. On Christmas morning, Mary would sit on the bottom of the stairs surrounded with stacks of boxes of gifts from Steve. Christmas mornings are incredibly special at the Nelson house. Steve would wear a Santa hat while passing out gifts, the house covered in wrapping paper, ribbons, toys and joy - so much joy thanks in large part to Steve’s generosity and love for his children and as years passed, grandchildren.

He called his grandkids “kiddo” and was the type of grandpa who would show up at the airport when the kids came to visit with M&Ms in his pocket for each of them. For a time, Crystal’s family lived in Mary and Steve’s home and her girls would leave Pops notes with their requests for school lunch. He would pack them lovingly. He was the type of grandpa who on one granddaughter’s baptism, ran to a fabric store and bought a big piece of fabric and a large safety pin to cover her beautiful white dress so it didn’t get dirty when the family went to a rib restaurant for dinner to celebrate the occasion.

Steve leaves behind his six children and their spouses: Crystal and Kirk Lindley, Julie and Julia Cappelli, Jennifer and Mike Gilbert, Jason and Amanda Nelson, Christopher and Monique Nelson, and Chad Nelson and Katie Jones.

He also leaves behind his treasured grandchildren, who lovingly called him “Pops” and “Popsie”: Peggy, Kaitlyn, Nik, Marissa, Tessa, Abby, Hannah, Landon, Tyler, Beckham, Sawyer, Ella, William, Charlotte, Louis, Teddy, Scarlet, and Irie, and great-grandson, Sonny.

As our big family continues to grow, we promise to tell the babies who follow that their Pops would have called them “kiddo” and how much he would have loved them, too.

Steve also leaves behind his cherished cousin, Alva. They were dear friends and Alva looked up to Steve as a real father figure - someone who taught her so much and always looked out for her.

He has many nieces and nephews that he was terribly fond of, as well.

He also deeply loved his dog, Lucy.

Lastly, Steve leaves behind the love of his life and wife of 55 years, Mary. His love for Mary was so big he’d buy an extravagant crystal Disney castle for her while leaving Disneyland one night just because. One pregnancy, she was particularly tired and Steve came home and told her to pack a bag - he’d lined up a sitter and they jetted out of town for the weekend.

But it was the smaller, constant gestures that showed his love for her. He would always hold her hand and open doors for her. He’d bring home flowers regularly. He’d sing the Johnny Duncan song “Hello, Mary Lou” and claimed he wrote it. He’d leave her pills out every night on a napkin with a heart and a special note that he’d sign “YOL” - your only love.

Steve, Dad, Pops will be missed deeply by his big family but his presence will be felt daily in our hearts, in the walls of The Shop, in Reyn Spooners, in sweet treats, in flip flops and jeans, and on Christmas mornings.