
Cleveland, Ohio. 1989. A 32-year-old man sits in the driver's seat of a 1976 Ford Tempo in the parking lot of a small motel just outside the city limits. The car is his home. The back seat holds his clothes folded into a duffel bag. The passenger seat holds the remains of fast food he could afford with the few dollars left in his pocket. He has lost his marriage. He has been fired from the Ford Motor Company assembly plant. He has been sleeping in this car through the Ohio winters. What he does on a particular afternoon in that car, in that parking lot, will determine the rest of his life. He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a yellow legal pad. His name was Broderick Stephen Harvey. The world would come to know him as Steve Harvey. This activation opens the same door he opened that afternoon.
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