FOUR months before he died, Dan Lev came to see me where I was staying in Seattle at University District. Even at 72 he still walked tall. He was wearing a grey jacket and white pullover. It was a spring day, and Seattle was rather cold.

We hugged. I noticed that his hair had thinned and he was pale.

I remembered the email he had sent in the third week of January, 2006. It turns out, from the biopsy, that I have lung cancer. Its not clear yet wheth