He informed me by letter that he had been diagnosed with Parkinson's. A year or two after that things were different. We met at his sister's house. She greeted me at the door. I looked for the same natural dignity in her that was in her older brother and thought I found it.
Art is out back on the patio.
She took me through the house and out to a small backyard shaded by large trees. Dr. Evans was seated in a white wrought-iron chair beside a small table on which sat lemonade and cookies. A second chair waited on the other side of the table. Only later did I realize that he had arranged to be seated and in place when I arrived. He greeted me warmly as always, perhaps more witty and animated even than usual.