Husband, father, Big Sky dirtbag musician taken by cancer at 54
By Jack Reaney ASSOCIATE EDITOR
If you’ve heard a popular song with parody lyrics about Big Sky, that was probably Terry Stebbins, who was much more than the guitarist writing the soundtrack to Big Sky après gatherings.
But, of course, he nailed that role.
“He, to me, is what skiing is about,” said Brian Stumpf, a local musician who played occasionally with Stebbins in the early 2000s, before Stebbins moved away. “Being with your friends, you know, going to the bar when you’re done skiing and having drinks.”
In the early 2000s, Stebbins began writing more than five dozen parody songs about “gapers,” dirtbags of Big Sky, doing the “Swifty dance,” skiing the Gullies, fighting—and losing to—patrol, fields of powder, Bridger Bowl and Jackson Hole, “TramZilla” and a host of local characters. Back then, Stumpf said it only felt like 100 people skiing at Big Sky Resort. And after last chair, they all went to Stebbins’ set.
“His legacy was the vibe,” Stumpf said. Stebbins wasn’t a musical genius or pretentious, he was just a “big ball of happy” who thrived on bringing the Big Sky community together.
When Stebbins would finish a gig, it could take him two hours to walk from the stage to the door, according to Jon Parvin, former bass player for Terry Stebbins and the 420 Crewzers.
Stebbins would talk to every single person, and it wasn’t small talk—he’d talk for minutes between songs too, giving shout-outs and toasts to specific members of the bar crowd. To keep the party going, he sometimes dragged out his final song excessively, to the dismay of bar managers.
“People felt part of it. There was a catchment of the ski community that he bound together so well,” Parvin said. “He’s a legend. He had a special talent to deliver the love of skiing and friends, and the community.”
Emotion gripped Parvin as he recalled the “rock star feeling” of playing to a crowd truly captivated by the quirky, local-must-see frontman. Behind Stebbins, Parvin felt like a member of the Rolling Stones.
“But it was just our little community,” Parvin said. “This wouldn’t work at Bridger. It was all Big Sky.”
Justin Nett, another good friend, said Stebbins’ lyrics were a guide to Lone Mountain. For Big Sky skiers, his five “Ski-Ds” of parody songs felt like a soundtrack to their life.
“You’d get off the mountain on a powder day, and you’d have Terry basically singing about this awesome day you had. He was able to really get into the hearts into the minds of the local crowd,” Nett said.
Stumpf, Parvin and Nett all independently share a favorite parody: “I’ll Ride the Tram,” to the tune of Modern English.
In the song’s chorus, Stumpf said he’d often substitute the adjective: “We skied the Gullies, and they’re gettin’ [better, sicker, deeper, smoother, etc.] all the time.”
“You set your drink down, you stop talking to your buddies, and you get on the stage and dance to that one,” Nett said.
Stebbins didn’t only sing about Big Sky. When he moved to Hawaii with his wife, Meghan, he wrote surf parodies about the North Shore of Oahu. Still, Nett believes Stebbins hit the nail on the head in Big Sky.
When Stebbins left in 2007, Big Sky didn’t forget his music.
“The legend of Terry Stebbins just exploded at that point,” Stumpf said.
Stebbins would return to Big Sky every year or two for “Powder Fiesta,” a gathering of friends for skiing and music. He once played every day for two weeks—but only at two or three Big Sky venues. Friends made T-shirts of his “tour” schedule.
“It was like 15 dates, but it was only like three different venues,” Stumpf recalled, smiling.
Of course, every show was packed.
“He was unique, he was comical, he was well put together with his music,” Nett said. “And he practiced what he preached, and he did a damn good job of it.”
Pono
As a husband and father, Meghan said Terry was “epic.”
He lived out his values. Especially through his 2018 diagnosis with stage-three colon cancer and the ensuing six-year battle, Terry wanted to show his love for his family and for life. He didn’t have a bunch of things he needed to say to family and friends before passing away, Meghan said, because he already showed his love every day.
“I think the kids will always remember Terry for always being told that they were loved, and always being told that they were epic. And I don’t think you can ask for anything more than that,” Meghan said.
The family constantly says, “love you” in passing. They believe in “pono,” a Hawaiian term representing the pursuit of balance and doing what’s right. If balance is lost, the family believes in taking immediate action to fix it. If a family member does wrong, another often says, “reboot,” as a reminder to put mistakes in the past and move forward with positivity.
Battling cancer, Terry was mentally fierce and immune to negativity.
He adopted a plant-based, vegan diet—in a 2023 interview with EBS, Terry called that a successful “Hail Mary pass” —and began practicing breathwork and meditation. His oncologist believes those actions made a difference, allowing him to survive six years after a grave diagnosis with nearly stage-four cancer. He was at the beach all summer in 2023, juicing six pounds of carrots per day.
Meghan is grateful that her kids, Poppy and Koa, never had to see him looking sickly. “He wanted to be active, he didn’t want to be sitting on the couch… He wanted them to see that he was going to be himself.”
In January 2024, Terry skied in Big Sky. In February the family skied twice together, and he was surfing in March. He never caved to his terminal illness. He lived life to the fullest and showed strength despite being dealt a tough hand, Meghan said.
On June 19, Stebbins lost his prolonged cancer battle. He was 54.
He was celebrated by the community of Marshfield, Massachusetts, the Stebbins’ home since 2015. A family friend and owner of Levitate, a surf shop and music festival producer, organized a “paddle out” on June 23.
A common rite in the surf community, a paddle out is a chance to share stories among community members, and to hoot and holler in Terry’s memory, Meghan said. A large crowd assembled on Rexhame Beach.
Many attendees surprised Meghan—she didn’t realize they had known Terry, but they shared how he made a positive impact on their lives, even just through one small moment.
“It was really a testament to honoring Terry, and how much Terry meant to everyone… He really saw the good in so many people,” Meghan said. He elevated those around him.
Rexhame Beach doesn’t get many waves in the summer, but little ones showed up that Sunday morning. Even the non-surfers had the chance to catch a wave or two.
“Terry definitely had a hand in that,” Meghan said, again emphasizing her husband’s “epic” spirit.
“He had this special ability to enlighten people,” Parvin said. “And then he got cancer. I think just his spirit and his flow kept him living longer than anybody would have lived.”
Nett believes people who knew Terry are happier, and better suited to face hardship.
Toward the end of his life, Terry recorded a video to share gratitude for his Big Sky dirtbag friends. He sent it to Nett, asking his friend to pass it along in Big Sky.
“He knew what he looked like, but he wanted me to see it, he wasn’t afraid,” Nett said. He cried for about 15 minutes after watching the video.
Then, he realized that Terry wouldn’t want him to sit around and cry.
“He’d want me to be out having a good time, celebrating all he did for us,” Nett said. “… He’d want us to sing his songs, be outdoors, ski powder.”
Stumpf said friends plan to sing his songs every winter to keep his legacy alive.
Meghan believes that she, and her two kids, will always feel the love for Terry in Big Sky. Even though the kids only visited a couple times, she knows Big Sky impacted them. The family plans to return to Big Sky in March 2025.
“Terry passed with a smile and I think that’s because he knew all the people that he came in touch with… will always look after Poppy and Koa and me,” Meghan said.
Nett wrote a list of memories about Stebbins: he’d shout “Hi-yah!” and bar patrons would echo; he’d count inches of snow in a Muppets’ Count von Count voice while somebody flickered the lights; he impersonated the region’s terribly inaccurate radio meteorologist; he and the Crewzers once played a triple set in a single night—first at Chet’s Bar and Grill, then Scissorbills, then Black Bear Bar and Grill.
Stebbins was the perfect show for the dirtbags all over the world, Nett wrote.
“We loved him as much as we could love any musician. We couldn’t get enough of him. We couldn’t believe this was real.”
