He moved to St. Louis and trained, aced all his tests. When he came home, she went with him to shop for a suit -- and saw his dad.

And saw that he could do this, too.

She sees Steve in Andrew’s mannerisms, his kindness, the easy way he has with people. In his faith and his love of sports and music.

Last Friday, Andrew ate a taco and an order of Potato Olés for lunch at Taco John’s, sitting with Matt at the table next to the pop machine.

He thought about his dad, the way he does every time he walks in that door, the way he does when he plays golf with his dad’s extra-long Titleists, the way he does when he follows the marching band into the stadium on football Saturdays, the way his dad did.

The way he does when he thinks about being a dad himself, the kind of dad his dad was.

He heard from a lot of people on the 10th anniversary of his dad’s death, Andrew says. People who knew Steve Wolf and loved him.

He played cards with his mom and sister that night -- a family tradition. They ate ice cream.

They hugged each other. They cried.