I was in 6th grade when he died.
It was the start of the year, and I was waking up and getting ready for my shower when my mom stopped me. She called me into the living room and sat me down. She looked me in the eye and said, "Steve Irwin died today."
I honestly didn't believe her. Of course I didn't, who would believe that their childhood hero suddenly died? Ever since I can remember, I would buy his shows and movies on VHS (we didn't have cable, and pretty much all of the movies I have of his are on VHS.) and watch them over and over, learning new things all the time. It was him who got me going on my reptile addiction, always looking for something to catch.

After she told me, I laughed and said, "Yeah right mom. He's not dead, stop trying to scare me."
Then she gave me this look. I don't think I've seen that look since, and I hope I don't have to. She brought me over to the computer and pulled up the article. I read the first few sentences, then just blankly stared at the screen. I just couldn't accept it, and it took me a while before I did. I broke down crying, almost hysterically. I couldn't even think straight, let alone stand still. I didn't get a chance to shower that morning.

I was pretty late to school, a little upset at my mom for making me go. Now that I look back on it, I'm glad she made me go. I didn't eat for a while after that, and went into a rather severe depression. That Christmas, my mom ordered me a signed photo of Steve and the rest of the Irwin family, as well as adopted (the online adoption, where you pay so much a year for the animal's care) a rescued iguana at the Australia Zoo. I cried when I opened the picture, and it took me a while to get over it.

I still don't like thinking about it; the man who fought so much for the creatures without a voice, doing everything in his power to educate everyone and anyone, gone. It had always been my dream to meet Steve and work at that Zoo. I doubt I'll ever admire anyone as much as I admire him.