Steve Pappas, age 60, died peacefully with his parents by his side on March 19, 2021 at the Utah Valley Specialty Hospital in Provo, Utah. He was born in Salt Lake City, Utah on March 23, 1960 to Ted and Kel Pappas.

Nancy Mercer Pappas, 60, died with Steve by her side at their home in Price, Utah on May 21, 2020. She was born in Las Vegas, Nevada to Fred and Janet Wallenmeyer on September 10, 1959.

Steve was born with the birth defect, spina bifida, and Nancy developed multiple sclerosis as an early teenager.

They became a couple in November 1989 when Steve, in his wheelchair, was going to visit his grandmother where she was a patient in a rest home. Nancy, who resided in the rest home, saw Steve and said, “Hello good lookin’.” That’s all it took. Steve in his handicap van would take Nancy, using her powered wheelchair, to propel them both to attend church, shopping or a ride in the mountains or anywhere Nancy wished to go. On November 29, 1999, they married and Steve took Nancy home and carefully took care of her.

The couple purchased their handicapped home 15 years ago. A house made for a handicapped couple to have an independent life. They tried to stay healthy to stay in their home. Steve lost his legs to infection and a kidney to a stone. He also encountered a 12-hour surgery and double pneumonia. He has been near death numerous times and was placed on life support. He overcame a stroke so he and Nancy could return home. Steve quite counting his operations after 50. Bedsores had him in bed in rest homes for months. The couple suffered deadly infections time after time. Nancy suffered through her MS without a whimper.

Steve made plans to build an exercise machine for people in wheelchairs. He drew up his well-thought-out plans and his father built it to specs. It was an impressive machine and he tried to get it patented to no avail. He used the pulleys and weights to keep his own upper body strong. He was also a leader in the Boy Scouts with his sidekick, Nancy.

The two were an awesome and courageous couple. Nancy could barely speak her last few years. Anyone who knew her will remember her laughter, wit, belief in God and will miss her thank yous and God blesses. Steve was a protector of his beloved wife and a caregiver of no equal. When Nancy died, he lost his sunshine and his motive to get well. He was one tough man and our hero, and Nancy was our angel. Their friends and family imagine them walking hand in hand with unbroken bodies to meet their beloved God.

Steve is survived by his parents, Ted and Kel Pappas; sister, Charlene (Rex) Pappas; aunt, Helene Wright; uncle, Clavelle Wycherley; nephews, Brian Sanchez, Michael (Sheena) Sanchez, Nicky (Candance) Sanchez, and Chris (Rachel) Sanchez; and many nieces, nephews and cousins.

Nancy is survived by her parents, Janet and Chuck Sabin; brother, Brian Wallenmeyer; step-brother, Travis Sabin; uncle, George Heil; special friend, Emily Rice Byrge and her husband Jason and their children.

Preceded in death by Steve’s baby brother, Nick; grandparents, James and Lucile Pappas, Elmo and Marion Wycherly; uncle, Bill Pappas; and Nancy’s father, Fred Wallenmeyer.

A memorial service will take place at a later date.

Arrangements entrusted to Mitchell Funeral Home of Price where friends are always welcome daily and may share memories online at www.mitchellfuneralhome.net.

 

The following is a poem written by Kel Pappas, Steve’s mother:

“Walk Across The Ice With Him”

Written in 1985 to Steve

 

If you would like to know how his life is endured

Walk across the ice with him.

He with crutches one workable leg

Will lift his body with powerful arms,

For a moment be suspended in air

Then one paralyzed foot meets the ground

To gather balance for the next step

Over and Over and Over.

How many steps has he taken in his years?

The steps used to be quick and nimble

Crutches barely a foot high.

Laughter, Giggles, Smiles and falls

How many falls?

The ice was no obstacle for a time

And slowly became one of many.

This ice became a symbol of a path to

Happiness, success, health.

Only it was treacherous, impassable.

As he walked his winters of ice

The path got longer.

One leg curled up useless,

The other straight, solid, unbendable

Breakable and brittle the ankle turned over

Broke the skin ripped and tore.

He still walks the ice still and mostly alone.

If he falls?

Will anyone pick him up?

Does anyone care?

Walk with him.

I’ve walked many paths with him

I’ve held my breath when he suspends his body.

I cannot keep my balance on ice

How can he? I ask him in wonderment

Each time

How can you walk on ice: Where do you get your courage?

Always the same answer

“I have no choice”.

Love, Mom