A Medical Man Of 'Courage, Perseverance, Vision'
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By ANNE M. HAMILTON
Special to The Courant

April 10, 2005

Dr. Evans H. Daniels Jr., 80, of Wethersfield, died Feb. 11.

A quiet, unassuming man, Dr. Evans Daniels Jr. dedicated his life to
helping the poorest and most medically needy families in Hartford.
He left behind a clinic - now the largest in the city - that
continues to do his work.

Daniels was born in Kansas City, Mo., and moved around the Southwest
as a child. His mother, Lessie James, died when he was young,
leaving him and a sister to be raised by their father, Evans Daniels
Sr., a chicken farmer.

The younger Daniels was so unassuming that not even his children
know many details about his early life. But they know he ended up at
Howard University, the prestigious black college in Washington,
arriving with one cardboard suitcase.

By the time the U.S. entered World War II, Daniels was a first-year
medical student at Howard.

"It was very limited what you could do as a black man," said his
youngest son, Scott Daniels of Wethersfield. Medicine, law or
education were the most promising options. "Being a doctor was very
prestigious." Money was extremely tight; Evans Daniels Sr. father
used to send his son eggs in medical school to sell for tuition and
spending money.

Evans Daniels Jr. became a medic with the 92nd Infantry Division, a
black unit, and served in Italy. He was awarded two Bronze Stars.
Years after the war, he told his children about some of his
experiences, such as the wounded white soldiers who would rather
suffer in the field than be attended by a black medic.

Daniels finished medical school after the war and married Helen
Jones, a Howard undergraduate who became a teacher. They had three
sons.

In 1952, after his graduation from medical school, Daniels came to
Connecticut at the invitation of Dr. Arthur Wilson, his commanding
officer. Wilson had a medical practice in Hartford, and Daniels
opened an office on Main Street to treat the patients Wilson could
not handle.

The practice grew quickly. Daniels treated families as a general
practitioner. Sometimes his patients could pay him only in produce.

Patients would wait hours to see him, and often he didn't return
home until 11 or 12 at night.

"Dr. Daniels was very tolerant of everyone. I never heard him speak
a harsh word," said Nellie Mason, who worked as a nurse's aide for
Daniels for 30 years. "He was a very kind and gentle man."

Daniels and his wife divorced in the early 1960s, and he later
married Geraldine Nelms, who had four children. The couple had two
more children of their own.

Other children also filled the Daniels' Wethersfield house. There
was Trung, a Vietnamese friend of Scott's; Khadra, a Somalian girl
who is now a doctor; and Nina, a diabetic who needed medical
supervision. Many of the children stayed at the family's home for
years.

"He cared not just for his family but for anyone he thought needed
help," said son Austin Daniels.

Although Dr. Daniels worked long hours, he was home for supper on
Thursdays and Sundays, spent two weeks on Cape Cod with the family
every summer and had lobster picnics on the beach at Rocky Neck. In
the fall, the family would pile into the car to see the foliage
along the Mohawk Trail in Massachusetts.

For his children, growing up in Wethersfield in the 1960s was
sometimes a challenge.

"We were one of the first black families in town," said his daughter
Karen Lewis, and there were several incidents tinged with racism,
such as the father who ordered Lewis out of his house after a play
date, or a woman who offered Geraldine Daniels a job as a
housekeeper because Daniels' children were so well behaved. After
they started driving, the Daniels children were often pulled over by
police.

Decades later, Daniels expressed his own feelings about stereotypes
in his typically low-key way. He went to the Wethersfield Country
Club with his VIP tickets for the annual Greater Hartford Open golf
tournament. Leaving his own Mercedes at home, he drove up to the
valet parking in his son Chuck's junk car.

"They decided to shake things up a little," recalled Scott. "`I am
who I am. I don't need any trappings.'"

Daniels' medical practice continued to grow. A group of Hartford
leaders encouraged him to start a multi-practice clinic, and
Community Health Services, or CHS, opened in 1971 on Albany Avenue
in Hartford. Today, the facility is in a new building that serves
16,000 patients a year. Daniels was the first medical director and
chief executive officer.

Many patients were uninsured and could not afford to pay, but
Daniels never turned anyone away. He went to Mexico to learn Spanish
so he could communicate with his Hispanic patients.

"He was easygoing and very polite," said Chet Parboo, a physicians'
assistant at CHS. "He tried to teach the staff that money wasn't
everything and that serving people was important."

"It was his courage, his perseverance, his vision that made this
possible," said Michael Sherman, the current CEO. "Only a remarkable
man could have done it. It was clear that the love of his life was
CHS."

Daniels and his second wife divorced in the 1980s, and in recent
years, he spent much of his time in Puerto Rico with his companion,
Elsie Esteves. Daniels, who died of cancer, left 13 grandchildren.

Daniels traveled to such countries as Guyana, Honduras and the
Dominican Republic to hold clinics in underserved areas, often
accompanied by Parboo. They paid their own way, stayed in churches
or people's homes and sometimes had to rely on speedboats for
transportation.

"He had a great desire to provide care to people," Parboo said. "He
was never in a rush."

Dr. Terri Ashmeade, his youngest child, is the only one who followed
him in the medical field. She accompanied him on one of his visits
to Guyana, where they treated patients together. "We got to be a
little bit competitive in our diagnoses," she recalled. "I was
trying to stump him, but I never could."

David Daniels, the oldest son, weaves bits of his father into his
plays.

"Love and compassion: This is what drove him," David said. "He was a
quiet person. ... He expected excellence."
Copyright 2005, Hartford Courant