
It’s with heavy hearts and deep sorrow that we say goodbye to our dear friend and longtime front door presence, Steve Schmitz. His passing leaves an irreplaceable void, not just in our establishment, but in the lives of all who had the privilege of knowing him.
To call Steve a security guard never quite did justice to the man he was. To us at 115 Bourbon Street and to so many in the community, he was so much more — he was family.
For years, Steve stood at the front doors of 115 Bourbon Street with quiet strength and an unwavering sense of purpose. He was the first face you’d see when you arrived, and often the last one you saw before you left.
No matter the weather, the hour, or the crowd, Steve was there — a steady presence you could always count on. He carried himself with dignity and calm, treating every person who crossed his path with respect and kindness.
But it wasn’t just his professionalism or work ethic that stood out. It was his heart. Steve had a gift for making people feel safe, seen, and valued. His warm smile, his easy laugh, and — perhaps most famously — his unforgettable bear hugs were legendary. Those hugs had a power of their own.
After a long or rough night, they could calm you, comfort you, and remind you that you were never alone. That’s who Steve was — a protector, a listener, a source of quiet strength when the world felt a little too loud.
In a business where the pace is fast and the nights can be unpredictable, Steve brought balance. He handled the job with a rare blend of toughness and tenderness, always ready to de-escalate a situation or offer a kind word.
He looked out for the staff like a big brother, always checking in, making sure everyone got home safe, and standing watch long after others had gone home. He was the kind of person who left you better than he found you — whether you were a regular, a coworker, or someone just passing through.
His loss is deeply felt by all of us at 115 Bourbon Street and by the countless lives he touched through the years. We’ll miss the sound of his voice, the strength of his arms, and the comfort of knowing he was just a few steps away if you needed him.
The doorway where Steve stood now feels achingly empty, yet we know his spirit still stands with us. We like to think that Steve has simply taken on a new post — guarding Heaven’s gates now with the same steady presence he brought to ours.
And just like he did here, we’re sure he’s welcoming everyone with that familiar kindness and heart. Thank you, Steve, for everything you brought to this place and to each of us. Your memory will live on in every story we tell, in every night we walk through those doors, and in every embrace we share in your honor.
You will never be forgotten.
Rest easy, our friend. We’ll keep the door open for you always.