David Evans

Arden – David “Dave” Evans, 67, passed away unexpectedly Tuesday, November 22, 2022, at his home.

Born in Ohio, Dave grew up in Bronxville, NY before moving to Alexandria, VA, where he lived for most of his life. He moved to Buncombe County nine years ago. His first part time job was as an assistant to Walter Cronkite at CBS News. He also worked in the US House of Representatives, as a contractor for the Department of Defense, and finally with NOAA, the US Government Weather Bureau, as an IT project manager.

Dave was an active contributing columnist to the Asheville Daily Planet newspaper and had written many published poems. His interests were varied, ranging from cooking to reading to classical music. He will always be remembered as the most interesting man with a kind soul, a great heart, and a wonderful sense of humor.  He was as reliable and steadfast as a rock, taking care of his family and was always ready to lend a helping hand to ones in need.

Dave was the son of the late Robert V. and Virginia Michael Evans.

Surviving are his children: Shannon Evans and Patrick Evans, both of Alexandria, VA; his fiancé, Isabel Salaverria of Arden; the mother of his children, Patricia Doherty Evans of Alexandria, VA; Isabel’s daughter, Lorena Miller of Arden; sisters: Alison Evans Johnson and Amanda Evans Sloan; brother, Miles Evans, Isabel’s brother, Felipe Cordero; good friend, Kathy O’Rourke; and several nieces and nephews.

No services are planned at this time. A memorial service will be planned for the spring of 2023.

In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to River Keepers, 1120 28th Ave. N, Suite B, Fargo, ND 58102, or at www.riverkeepers.org/donate.

Anders-Rice Funeral Home is honored to serve Dave’s family.

The following poem was one of Dave’s last writings:

The Last Leaf of Autumn

Today I witnessed the greatest of miracles

As the last leaf of autumn

Sheds its manacles

Whirling and twirling its way to earth

Pitching about with glee,

Seeking a new birth

Happy to be free,

What will become of this lonely wanderer

That knows not where he is going,

To join those that have gone on before

Whose piles fill yards and sidewalks

And the playful kids adore,

Soon will come the howling Boreas

And fair Khione

Will lay down her gossamer gown

Our leaf only a flittering remembrance in the wind

As the people from our town

Gather to celebrate the harvest

Vintage of love turned blue

Where our affair with summer

Lies buried beneath the virgin snow,

Now we must drink the soul wine

Pressed from the grapes of our wrath

For neath winter’s cozy covering

A new world in gestation

Ready to raise a new ruckus of life

As humanity endures

The rising winds of strife

That now batter this once fair land,

Where true lovers

Must make their last stand

In the agony and ecstasy

Of this eternal moment

That is really no moment at all

For we breach the hands of time

As we pass through the gates of hell

Where love’s lusty pantomime

Torments us in the garden where Adam fell,

For this moment is all we will ever have

“To be or not to be”

As the greatest bard once said

For in the simplicity of being

We yearn to be free

And like our wayward leaf

To dance in the wind

To ride her wild currents

And a new life begin.