Evena, who was once what you might call well-padded, went on a strict diet and now looks great— but the slenderizing certainly wasn’t intentional.

Evena is a three-year-old calico cat who went missing from her Willarch Road home in mid-May. As an indoor-outdoor cat, she was free to come and go through a window in the basement, but she usually returned each night — until she didn’t, which “wasn’t like her,” owner Melissa Hallowell said.

Hallowell tried to figure out where Evena had gotten to. Maybe she had stowed away in one of road construction vehicles that was being used for repairs on nearby Route 126, or was frightened by their noise and wandered farther off than usual. She made “lost cat” posters and put them up in the neighborhood. A couple of neighbors told her early on that they had seen the cat, but as more time went by, Hallowell began to fear the worst.

“I was 85% sure that a predator had gotten her,” she said.

The family was starting to accept the fact they might never see Evena again. But all that changed one night in late June when a neighbor called to say he’d heard meowing while on a walk earlier in the day and then spotted the cat — sitting behind a window screen of an apparently vacant house on Route 126. He snapped a photo (see below) and sent it to Hallowell, who immediately started trying to track down keys to the house. But that turned out to be unnecessary. When her husband came home that night, he simply walked over to the house, removed the screen, “and she jumped into his arms, she said.

The Hallowells aren’t sure how Evena got into the house or why she couldn’t get out by herself, but they did learn later that it had a leaky bathtub faucet, which apparently gave the cat enough to drink over the five weeks she was missing. No food was to be had, however, but she had enough fat to see her through. Not surprisingly, when she was reunited with her family, “she was half her size,” Hallowell said. “She looked like an adolescent cat again — it was like turning back the clock.”

Aside from the enforced weight loss, Evena (now an indoor-only cat) was none the worse for wear, though her voice was hoarse for about two weeks. Being corralled for a checkup at the vet has also made her somewhat wary — she often now hides in the basement.

“This is the value of listening when you walk,” Hallowell said, noting that they may not have rescued the cat in time if their neighbor hadn’t heard meowing and wondered where it was coming from. Hallowell herself had walked by the same house several times, and though she never heard Evena, “I always got a weird feeling of her presence.”

Gerry Foster

Gerald Lee Foster, Lincoln architect, artist and author, died, on June 25 in Lincoln. He was 86. An artist from the start, Gerry’s skill carried him through a rich life, often by unexpected turns. He was at one time a student of the Boston painter R.H. Ives Gammell and later a vice president of The Architects Collaborative, the famous firm founded by Bauhaus architect Walter Gropius.

Born on July 13, 1936, in Marshall, Mo., Gerry arrived in the midst of both the Great Depression and a legendary heat wave so ferocious that insects disappeared, weary sleepers dragged mattresses outdoors, and Gerry’s blistered head was covered with wet cloth for fear the heat would kill him. His parents, Albert B. Foster and Esther Mason, resided in Keytesville, where Albert was the high school “ag” teacher, near the Mason farm. Forever beloved by Gerry, “the farm” became a frequent vacation spot for the family, with its cow, chickens, hogs, mules (Tom and Jerry), and a fine pair of doting grandparents.

Albert soon took a job with Roosevelt’s expanded Soil Conservation Service (SCS) and the family began a dizzying series of moves, finally coming to rest outside Milwaukee at Whitefish Bay in 1947. By that time, Gerry had been joined by younger siblings Ken, Dave, and Martha. Early on, Gerry showed a natural ability in art and was encouraged by family friend Felix Summers, an SCS illustrator. At school he was a good athlete and bright pupil, but often a poor student: he preferred to draw during class.

Graduating from high school in 1954, Gerry loved drawing and cars but lacked direction, so he joined the Air Force. He served as crew chief for a B-47 bomber at Homestead Air Force Base in Florida and in a tactical missile squadron at Ramstein Air Base in Germany. His art followed him: he painted teeth on his aircraft, which were removed by orders, and added murals to one of his bases, for which he was commended. According to Gerry, the Air Force straightened him out, while road trips to Europe’s museums showed him there was more to art than car illustration.

Discharged in 1958, Gerry married Patricia Patrick of Orlando, worked in an aircraft factory, and painted hotel murals for architect Harry Merritt, Jr. Moving to Milwaukee in 1959, Gerry was a semi-Beat, enjoying Kerouac, jazz, car races, road trips, and boisterous parties, one of which got the couple kicked out of an apartment. He tried a semester at the University of Wisconsin, and failed everything but his art classes — because they were the only classes he went to. Instead, he got a job selling sports cars for race car driver and brewery heir Augie Pabst, work at which he excelled, and occasionally served on Augie’s pit crew. A son, Mark, was born in 1961.

The first of two pivotal moments in Gerry’s early life came in 1962, after the family moved to New London, Conn. While selling Mercedes for T.N.M. Lathrop, Gerry happened to enter an art contest, which he won, and which led to an interview with the Boston painter R.H. Ives Gammell. Gammell accepted Gerry as a student and Gerry spent a year of intensive study with the painter at Boston’s Fenway Studios, an experience that had a significant impact on Gerry’s art. Gammell would be a lifelong influence, yet Gerry grew increasingly interested in modern architecture and was desperately short of money — which brought a second turning point.

By chance, one of Gerry’s landlords was designer and feminist Fran Hoskens, who had hired Gerry to do several drawings. She connected Gerry to Louis MacMillan, a principal at The Architects Collaborative (TAC), the famous Cambridge firm established by Walter Gropius and his students. Louis asked Gerry if he could draw buildings, whereupon Gerry went home, drew, and returned, only to be asked again if he could draw buildings. The process repeated until one meeting when sketches of highway construction equipment happened to fall from Gerry’s portfolio. Louis asked to see them. “If you can do that,” said Louis, “you can draw buildings.” In 1963, Gerry was hired as an “office boy” in TAC office services, but was soon asked to sit down and draft. He never got up.

Gerry spent two decades at TAC. He mastered the design of medical and research facilities, becoming a team leader, an associate (1976), and finally a vice president (1980). He studied for a year at the Boston Architectural Center, won the Outstanding Student Award, and quit — he said he was learning more at work. He briefly worked for Ben Thompson, but it was principal Roland Kluver that became his friend and mentor. Gerry, as Roland noted, had a rare combination of conceptual design skill and practical knowledge of construction, as well as a natural ability as a team leader, which brought the respect of his team. A skilled artist, Gerry occasionally provided renderings for his own projects which reflected the modernism he admired, and took pride in those projects consistently producing earnings for the firm. He designed buildings in the U.S. and overseas, a small sampling of which includes the Seeley G. Mudd Building at Harvard Medical School, the Nursing and Allied Sciences Building at the University of Vermont, and Deaconess Hospital’s William A. Meissner Building (since removed), which was his favorite.

TAC also provided a community of dear friends, for whom Gerry often created cartoons marking birthdays and other events that affectionately poked fun at the recipient. As Gerry was fond of recounting, he himself received unique recognition: noting his singular rise from office boy to associate, the staff in TAC office services, generally aspiring architects, created a small “Gerry Foster Shrine” at which to worship. Looking back at the humble start that led to his 20-year career at TAC, Gerry said simply, “It came to me naturally.”

In 1968, Gerry married Diana Wallace of Cambridge and in 1972 rented a dilapidated house deep in the woods in Lincoln. In 1975, Gerry married Candace Frankman, a former TAC employee, originally of Hopkins, Minn. They bought the dilapidated house, significantly improved it, built a second house on the Cape, and added two children, Ryan and Shelby, to the family. In 1982, Gerry established his own small firm, Gerald Foster, Inc., where he continued with institutional work and the occasional residence. In 1989, he merged with Linea 5, Inc., which now specializes in the work he introduced them to.

In the 1990s, as the constraints of his profession loosened, other interests cultivated throughout Gerry’s life emerged. They were indulged in a studio above the garage, crowded with books, art materials, and a menagerie of objects. He attended UMass-Amherst’s University Without Walls program to study art and received his bachelor’s degree in 1993. He returned to painting, often portraying the broad farmland of central Missouri, and exhibited at the Concord Art Association and elsewhere. He took classes in painting at deCordova Museum with Kathleen (Dudty) Fletcher, who became a dear friend. He studied sailboat design and model trains and did illustration, including work for Historic New England, the National Park Service, Nantucket Historical Association and, on one occasion, the New York Times Magazine. He produced A Field Guide to Airplanes (1984; 2006) with friend and Boston Globe columnist M.R. Montgomery; wrote and illustrated guides to trains (1996) and houses (2004); and illustrated the children’s book, Whale Port (2007), which won a Massachusetts Book Award. Though supposedly retired, in later years he took great pleasure in working part-time for Designer Cabinetry in Newton designing high-end kitchens.

Gerry balanced all this with care for his younger children. His services were extensive and varied. He was a regular partner for evening basketball and catch until it grew too dark to see, in addition to coaching baseball and soccer. He provided design consultation and construction services for dollhouses. He produced Chinese food twice a week, in a cooking process that included dancing and sound effects. He lightened the day with humorous reports on the activities of pets during school hours. He was a reliable and knowledgeable companion for long walks to the bus stop and for watching baseball games and Formula 1 races. He facilitated trips to Fenway Park, baseball camp, and racing school. He provided town-wide taxi service and unlimited (and patient) homework assistance. And he entertained everyone at Christmas by dancing to Bruce Springsteen’s version of “Run, Run, Rudolph” (he was a big Springsteen fan).

Gerry was never without a pen. He processed his life through drawing and he could draw anything. A designer, he evaluated all — as when, while arranging his father’s cremation, he paused to critique the funeral home’s interior finishes. He loved nature — binoculars and field guides were always near — and gardening. He was a gentle man, with a sense of humor, often at his own expense. He could be silly, as when he stood at the dishwasher and tossed dishes across the room to one of his children, who, laughing, would put them away. He was a pleasure to talk with, as he knew at least something about most things, though especially art and architecture, and yet never imposed. He was an unquenchable reader (fiction and nonfiction), always with a stack of books next to the bed and a pile of finished crosswords on it. He read the Boston Globe, the New York Times and the New Yorker until his last day. Having seen more than his share of hard times, Gerry was kind. He adored his grandchildren and enjoyed any time he spent with his own children, who worried about him constantly and loved him dearly. He often said, “It’s my children that keep me going.”

Gerry passed quietly in his sleep, at home, as he had hoped. The day that followed turned into the first real day of summer, with a hot sun beating down and tall thunderstorms rolling through in the afternoon. It was the kind of weather he had always loved because it reminded him of Missouri.

Gerry is survived by his son Mark Foster and his wife Erin Wells of Arlington, son Ryan Foster and his wife Alyssa of Newton, and daughter Shelby O’Neill and her husband William of Harvard. He was proud “Grandad” to Coraline, Chase, Levi, and Finn. He is also survived by his partner, Candace Foster of Lincoln, and his sister, Martha Lurz of Annapolis, Md.

At his request, a celebration of his life will be held one year from now. Contributions in his memory may be made to Mass Audubon, 208 South Great Road, Lincoln, MA 01773 (www.massaudubon.org).

Arrangements are entrusted to Dee Funeral Home & Cremation Service of Concord, which provided this obituary. For Gerry’s online guestbook, please click here.