Some friendships defy logic.
They are forged not by convenience, background, or even common ground—but by something deeper: a soul-level resonance that forms slowly, through tension, laughter, loyalty, and time.
Over 30 years ago, I entered an executive MBA program as the youngest and least qualified person in the room. My Dodge Colt had been totaled three times. I parked it at the bottom of the hill so no one would see. My wardrobe came from the thrift store. I carried around a quiet ache of imposter syndrome—feeling I had somehow tricked the universe to be there.
Enter Roger Stegmiller.
He was the smartest guy in class. Direct. Methodical. Formidable. But when he learned I was from Southern Utah and had married a Matheson girl, he extended a hand—not out of pity, but with genuine inclusion. That one act changed the trajectory of my life.
We formed a study group. Then we launched a (terrible) t-shirt company. Then we built more ventures. We sparred constantly—he was a spreadsheet devotee, I was an impulsive builder. Yet somehow, the friction forged admiration. Then friendship. Then brotherhood.
Over the last three weeks, as Roger faced the rapid decline due to pancreatic cancer, we exchanged unfiltered words. We embraced. We said what mattered. We said we loved each other. There are no regrets—only gratitude.
One of Roger’s final requests was simple: he wanted normalcy. He asked Gaye and me to come play cards, like old times. We did. He outplayed me, maneuvered me like a Vegas shark, and beat the pants off me—just as he always had. That game will be etched into my soul.
Last Thursday night at 11:32 p.m., Roger passed.
And I am reminded: life is not about status, net worth, or the car you drive.
It is about shared experiences, open hearts, and the beauty of loving someone across time and differences.
Relationships are rarely tidy—and certainly not efficient. But they are the salt that savors the beauty of life.
Roger, I love you.
Thank you for your friendship, your wisdom, and your loyalty.
I’ll see you in 25 or 30 years, my dear friend.
Sincerely,
Rich
