Running with Stevie

By John Grant Emeigh of The Montana Standard - 10/01/2006

Stevie Faulkner stands in the alley behind the M&M bar Thursday night. A Butte native, Stevie is known for walking all over town with his unique quick-time gait and for shining shoes. Lisa Kunkel / The Montana Standard

It was late March and Stevie Faulkner was making his way along Harrison Avenue, seemingly oblivious to the frigid evening air. As usual, he was walking with stringent focus: Shoulders hunched forward in determination, short, yet, quick strides, eyes ahead — always ahead.

It was probably this same focus that made Stevie completely oblivious to the car that was about to hit him.

It clipped him in the hip and knocked him onto the gravel-strewn pavement.

The driver stopped and asked Stevie if he was all right. Stevie told the driver he was fine and the motorist left the scene.

But Stevie wasn’t fine. Still, he kept on walking.

It wasn’t until friends noticed the scrapes and cuts all over his arms that Stevie was finally taken to the hospital. The damage wasn’t much, and staff quickly patched Stevie up and sent him on his way.

But Butte-Silver Bow Sheriff John Walsh wasn’t satisfied. He put out a news release asking the motorist responsible for leaving Stevie in that condition to immediately contact the department.

“The guy’s kind of a legend around here,” Walsh explained.

It’s still unknown who hit Stevie, but the incident hasn’t softened his step any. He was making his way along East Park Street Wednesday in his unique, quick-time gait.

“I’m more careful now,” Stevie, 56, said when he reflects on his run-in with the car.

He says the incident hasn’t made him afraid to walk busy streets like Harrison Avenue. A big toe sticks out slightly from a well-worn sole.

There’s a bit of irony in the fact that a man who makes his living shining shoes wears such battered shoes himself. Known by many as “Stevie the Shoe Shine Guy,” Stevie has been polishing shoes since he was 9 years old.

With his battered, wooden shinebox, he walks into Uptown bars and cafes and immediately checks everyone’s feet. To those not familiar with Stevie, this approach may be a bit unnerving. Also, a condition known as hydrocephalus — which is a buildup of fluid in the brain — gives Stevie a unique appearance.

Minding the bar at Maloney’s most nights, John Cox has seen Stevie and his shinebox in action many a night. Cox, or “Coxie” as everyone calls him, said the shoeshine market has taken a hit in recent years.

“Everybody wears tennis shoes today. I see Stevie walking down the bar looking at everyone’s shoes and he’s saying, ‘jerks, jerks, jerks,’” Cox said with a laugh.

Butte-Silver Bow Police Lt. Tim Tracy remembers his high school days when the fashion of the time benefitted Stevie.

“I gave him a few bucks in those days when I used to wear cowboy boots,” Tracy said. “When you went to Butte High School then, you had to get cowboy boots.” Stevie says he usually sees more business on the weekends and holidays, but things were better in the early years.

“There were more bars then,” he said.

Cox would see Stevie walking around town in the dead of winter, unphased by the sub-zero temperatures. While the regulars at Maloney’s are huddled inside the bar desperately trying to shelter themselves from the bone-shattering, January cold, Stevie bounds in like a seasoned Arctic explore.

“He’s tougher than a bag of nails,” Cox said.

He may be tough, but folks still throw Stevie a new pair of shoes or sweater on occasion. But they usually wouldn’t end up on his feet or his back.

“People buy him shoes and he goes and hocks them,” Cox said.

He’s been known to go through shoes. Stevie covers plenty of ground in a day — going from the top of Uptown all the way to the bottom of the Flat.

Richard Cutet, who used to work with Stevie at the M&M, is amazed by Stevie’s rambling ways. He remembers years ago when Danny Delmoe, the former owner of the M&M, gave Stevie a ride to the Wal-Mart way down on the Flat. Cutet said Delmoe couldn’t find Stevie at the store when it was time to go.

“Danny drove back and Stevie was already standing outside the M&M,” Cutet recalled.

It was Delmoe that many say kept him on his feet. Stevie worked for him for several years at the M&M; Delmoe clothed him and looked after him up until his death in 1997.

Stevie says Delmoe treated him like a son.

“I miss him real bad. He used to feed me and everything and now he ain’t around anymore. I wish he was,” he says.

Though Stevie has a room to stay in Uptown, he says he doesn’t like to linger there too long. It makes him nervous to sit in one place for a long time, he says, so he just walks.

He fears he’s going to be “put in a home” soon; a thought that petrifies him. Some may think it’s best for him, but to Stevie it’s stagnant, binding, nothing.

“I’d rather do like I do now. I’ve been on my own for 20 years,” he says.

Seeing Stevie out on the road is as much a part of the Butte landscape as the the old gallus frames that dot the city. Maybe that’s why people like Sheriff Walsh keep an eye on him, give him the occasional ride, toss him a few bucks or a pair of shoes without holes in the soles.

“The day Stevie goes, Butte is going to lose something that makes it unique and special,” Walsh said.

Even Stevie seems to know this as he saunters his way across the intersection at Park and Wyoming streets Wednesday afternoon, his shadow stretched long against the pavement. A motorist patiently waits as Stevie briefly stops and turns in the middle of the road and says, “That’s what they say: I’m a legend.” Reporter John Grant Emeigh may be reached via e-mail at john.emeigh@lee.net or by telephone, 496-5511.