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Brendan M. Reilly, MD
Chicago, Ill

JAMA. 2001;286:19-20.

	Since this article does not have an abstract, we have provided the first 150 words of the full text and any section headings.

He is a striking-looking man, tall and lean, whose aristocratic cheekbones and purposeful gait suggest a fortunate inheritance and a promising future, a man with expectations, going places. Up close he is someone else entirely: an unshaven hungry look, expensive shoes scuffed, tailored slacks stained, a fine leather-trimmed Atlanta baseball jacket torn down the back, its terminal "s" ripped away from Braves scripted there. And so, because he won't even look at me when I say hello or ask his name, I think of him as Brave.

These past few weeks I seem to see him everywhere, every day. Perhaps he has been here before but I think not; his is a presence not easily missed. Then again, maybe I see him now only because Kenny has been calling and so my eyes are open, the blinders off, at least for a time.

Today I arrive . . . [Full Text of this Article]