Steve Davis passed away on March 7, 2026, with his wife, Mina, and family by his side.
He was born in Montreal, Canada, on March 5, 1933. After finishing high school in St. John, New Brunswick, he went on to Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Throughout these years and much of his life, he was active in sports, especially baseball and hockey. Later on, he discovered a new love for golf.
His journey in aviation started in 1953 with Trans-Canada Air Lines, which later became Air Canada. He had many proud moments over the forty years he spent flying. One highlight was opening the first Air Canada Operations Center in San Francisco, California, in 1974. While based in Montreal for ten years as a check pilot, he eventually moved back to Toronto for the remainder of his career.
After retiring in 1992, he was able to enjoy full-time living in Florida. He married Mina that same year, and together they spent many joyful years traveling and golfing while enjoying the company of their wonderful friends. During this time, Steve also became a United States citizen. For the last two and a half years of his life, he lived with Mina in Suwanee, Georgia.
Besides Mina, Steve leaves behind four children: Steve E. Davis and Deborah Davis Maclean from Canada; Kirkwood A. Davis; and Beth A. Zunde from Georgia; along with ten grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.
He will be fondly remembered for his loves: his home country of Canada, family ties, aviation career, and sports enthusiasm. A celebration of life will take place at a later date in Canada. The family extends their gratitude for all the care provided to him during his final months-especially from the hospice team.
“Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds,-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along-and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.. Up up the long delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark or even eagle flew-
And while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
– Put out my hand and touched the face of God.” by John Magee Jr.
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And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds,-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along-and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.. Up up the long delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark or even eagle flew-
And while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
– Put out my hand and touched the face of God.” by John Magee Jr.
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