A little more than a month after a San Carlos man was killed by a wrong-way driver in a fiery crash, his community came together to celebrate what would have been his 59th birthday.
Steve Hinkson was killed in late August in a crash on Montague Expressway at the Lafayette Street overpass in Santa Clara by a wrong-way driver who also died. The biotech manager had been out grabbing sandwiches for his team.
The Santa Clara Police Department said the crash remains an active investigation as authorities await the full report from the medical examiner’s office. But instead of focusing solely on the tragedy, loved ones gathered Tuesday night at the Nazareth Ice Oasis in Foster City for a hockey party in his honor.
Flannels on, friends and family played a game where the final score didn’t matter. They ate, asked “What the puck, Steve?” and celebrated the man who always put his wife and two daughters first.
“Everyone said, ‘You know what? That felt like Steve, he was here with us, that was Steve,'” said Anna Ison, Hinkson’s widow.
Ison noted that his last text in the family thread wished his girls a good first day at UC Berkeley and told them he loved them.
“Sometimes it feels like it’s hard to breathe,” Ison said. “Things just aligned in a certain way that put him in a place and time that took him away from us.”
At work, Hinkson was remembered as intuitive and smart. Lisa Hazen, one of his former colleagues, said, “I always had him interview people that I was trying to hire because he would ask very unique questions, and I figured if they could pass his test, then they were good to go.”
Later in life, Hinkson picked up hockey after meeting Anna. Though his size could be intimidating, friends on the ice knew him differently.
“A gentle giant,” said family friend Laura Johnston. “It’s such a tragic loss, and we all miss Steve immensely, and we’re all here to support Anna, but I think that today is a wonderful example of how the hockey community really comes together.”
Whether stepping up to a karaoke microphone with his hockey friends or focusing on his family, Hinkson seemingly spent his life thinking of others.
“His life was full of meaning, and full of love, and full of purpose. He was himself through it all until the very end,” Ison said. “Today, I feel like, ‘You know what, bud? It’s my turn. I am doing something to make you happy, and it’s making me happy.'”
Steve’s hockey stick remains outside the rink for now—a quiet, enduring reminder for those who loved him that he is still skating alongside them.