I first met Carol during Christmas vacation 1966. I had met Andy in college that fall and he had invited me down to visit. I arrived at the apartment at midnight in a cold rain having walked from Port Authority because I didn't know how to get there any other way. I was greeted by Connie, Carol's boyfriend soon to be husband who welcomed me as Andy was out somewhere. In the morning I went into the kitchen and met Carol. I don't have an exact recollection of my first impression so what follows is a composite from that time. I'm sure she said, "You must be Parsons," as she continued to refer to me till the end. I'm sure we smoked Pall Malls, talked and talked for hours and drank instant coffee because that was what was done in the kitchen at 575 West End Ave. Everyone smoked in those days. Carol, Connie, Andy, Meredith, too. The kitchen would fill with smoke and ideas. Carol was warm and welcoming without effort. I always felt comfortable in her presence. And she was a presence. The long wavy black her tumbling down and spilling over her shoulders. She always seemed to be wearing something that was colorful ( I remember reds and greens) and patterned and that reached to the floor. She looked as if she had just gotten out of bed and was ready to go out at the same time. She was tall but seemed taller. It may have been her voice which was deep and resonant and a little raspy from the cigarettes. She filled the kitchen with her self her voice and her ideas. No subject was off limits to discuss. Carol had an opinion on everything and everybody and was not shy about expressing it. You could disagree with her but you would never win an argument or change her mind. She was a force to be reckoned with. At the time I met her I believe she was starting or restarting to study and paint. I know that she was part of some group somewhere and she would often talk about modern artists and what they were doing. Over the years I would see works she had created. She worked large with explorations in color and texture. All beyond me, but her passion was evident in all her work. Artistically she was still exploring and playing right up to the end. I spend an afternoon a year ago helping her arrange and rearrange her face sketches. She was really having fun with this work and we had a terrific time that afternoon. I experience that sense of fun when I look at those collected images. We should all be fortunate to carry that sense of fun and exploration right up to the end of our days. The last couple of years were not easy for Carol. She had a couple of major problems requiring hospitalization and rehabilitation that slowed her down. I know in talking to Andy he was distressed that she didn't get out to the gym and do the things that we thought she should be doing. I think part of that frustration was that it seemed so impossible that such a force as Carol could ever fade. She really didn't though. The day she went finally into the hospital she was planning to go to New Jersey to teach. As Andy said, She died with her boots on. When I look back over those years and who Carol was and is, I just can't think of anyone who was even remotely like her. A feminist before feminism. An independent artistic woman. Of course there were some others but to me it looked as though she had fashioned her life out of thin air.