William Evans
William (Ken) Kendall Evans, of Sedona, Arizona, died on July 12, 2026, at the age of 67.
Known by different names to the people who loved him, including Will, Dad, Keno, Kenneth, Kenny, and Brohim, Ken Evans possessed a brilliant and inventive mind, an extraordinarily gentle spirit, and a seemingly bottomless capacity for empathy. It has been said that some souls are born without the armor the world requires; they feel every wound as though it were their own. Ken was such a soul. His sensitivity could make the world a painful place to inhabit, but it was also the source of his extraordinary compassion, a gift that allowed him to recognize suffering and move instinctively toward it with gentleness.
Ken was born on March 25, 1959, in Hollywood, California, and raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico. His curiosity and sensitivity revealed themselves early. As a child, he conducted science experiments in his bedroom, driven by the same fascination with discovery that would remain with him throughout his life. He grew into a gifted technologist, inventor, and innovator, a person capable of understanding complex systems while never losing sight of the human beings those systems were meant to serve.
The sky, too, held a particular fascination for Ken. He loved astronomy, space, and the vastness of the night, which he explored through his telescopes beneath the clear skies of Sedona. When his children were young, he would set up sleeping cots in their pine-filled backyard so they could all fall asleep to the sight of twinkling stars and the scent of fresh pine needles. He also brought this sense of awe indoors, meticulously painting a glow-in-the-dark night sky across the kids’ bedroom ceiling. It was a labor of love, created not simply as decoration, but as an invitation to look upward, to remain curious, and to wonder at a universe larger and more mysterious than any one person could comprehend.
Ken found another kind of freedom in aviation. Earning his pilot’s license was one of the great joys and accomplishments of his life. Flying brought together so many of the things he loved, including the elegance of technology, the expansiveness of the sky, the discipline of navigation, and the profound sense of peace that came from seeing the earth from above.
He was equally at home closer to the ground. Ken loved camping, riding his bicycle and motorcycle, and spending time amid the natural beauty of the Four Corners region. The outdoors offered him refuge and restoration. He found peace among the red rocks, beneath the stars, and in the quiet company of the animals he loved.
Ken devoted much of his life to helping people in moments of crisis. From approximately 2015 through 2021, he worked with Spectrum Healthcare as a Health Care Crisis Recovery Specialist on its Mobile Crisis Response Team. In this role, he responded to people experiencing acute mental health emergencies with the patience, compassion, and instinctive gentleness that defined him. He also trained members of the Sedona Police Department in effective and humane response techniques for calls involving severe mental illness.
Ken later led mental health group therapy sessions for Spectrum Healthcare at its Cottonwood, Sedona, and Verde Valley clinics. He had an uncommon ability to recognize the person beneath the pain and to meet suffering without judgment. His work allowed him to offer others the understanding and steadiness he so often wished the world could offer more freely.
In 2021, Ken joined the Verde Valley Senior Squadron of the Civil Air Patrol, the United States Air Force Auxiliary, where he was known as Capt. Ken Evans. He initially served as Communications and Information Technology Officer before becoming Squadron Commander at the Sedona Airport for the 205th Squadron of the Arizona Wing. He also served as Public Affairs Officer and Homeland Security and Disaster Preparedness Officer.
Ken brought extraordinary imagination and technical skill to this work. He created elaborate Remote Mobile Communications Outlets, conducted training on the use of search drones, and installed thermal imaging cameras to strengthen overflight Search and Rescue sorties. The role brought together so many of the qualities that made him who he was: his inventive mind, his fascination with technology, his commitment to service, and his determination to use his abilities to help protect people and animals in danger.
Ken also volunteered with the Humane Society of Sedona, reflecting his lifelong tenderness toward animals and vulnerable beings of every kind. He adopted three black cats, beginning with his beloved Samantha (Sam), followed by Zoro and Meena, and opened his home to foster dogs in need of loving care.
Music was another abiding source of joy and comfort. Ken had once been a talented trumpet player, and he gave his children an early education in rock music, introducing them to artists such as Eric Clapton, The Doobie Brothers, Boston, and The Cars. Music filled his home, accompanied long drives, and became woven into his family’s memories of him.
For all his interests and accomplishments, Ken’s greatest devotion was to the people he loved. He is survived by his children Louis with his wife Sonya and grandchild Bennett of Bend, OR; Leigh with their partner Jo of Monterey, CA, and his youngest, Loren, of Los Angeles, CA. He is also survived by his brother Scot of South Salem, NY and his children Autumn Wylder with Kim from Sebastopol, CA and Isaac Evans with Erin and child Anna Kathleen of Chicago, IL, as well as his sister Marie Evans Schumacher with Eric and their children Aidan and Lily of Santa Barbara, CA.
His death came only months after the passing of his beloved sister-in-law, Holly Peppe. Ken and Holly shared a meaningful bond, recognizing in one another the same deeply sensitive spirit and holding between them a quiet acknowledgment of the world’s suffering, along with a shared desire to help ease it.
Ken knew that life could be painful. He never turned away from that knowledge or protected himself from the feelings of others. Instead, he remained open. He cared deeply. His empathy was sometimes a heavy burden, but it was also one of his greatest gifts. He listened without judgment. He looked for solutions where others saw only obstacles. He offered kindness without requiring recognition.
He understood machines, systems, flight paths, and the movements of the stars. More importantly, he understood vulnerability. He knew that people need to be seen, that frightened creatures need gentleness, and that those who are lost sometimes need another person willing to keep searching.
Ken’s life was one of curiosity, service, invention, and love. His family will remember the music he played, the skies he studied, the creatures he protected, the people he helped, and the glow-in-the-dark universe he once carefully painted across his children’s ceiling. It was a small cosmos created by a father who wanted his children always to remember to look up.
