At this difficult time, however, I am compelled to raise an issue, because it affects not only Williams's legacy but also the lives of others. He was known to be a disciplined performer, on set on time, etc. We know that depression can topple those who outsiders consider at the top of the world, but they experience it through a narrow prism that skews available options. We know that anxiety is a horrid nightmare. He was in rehab in July, but if since Ms. Schneider says that his sobriety was intact, then we accept it.

My concern is her disclosure that he was in the early stages of Parkinson's. She says that Williams was not ready to share it publicly–so why would she do so now? I know many people who have or have had Parkinson's, including my mother, and they functioned quite well with medication. Granted that Mr. Williams's comedy was amazingly physical, but if the stage was so early, therefore unnoticeable, why would it factor into his suicide? His track record of professional dependability and battling addiction over many years makes me think that the inclusion of this diagnosis is either irrelevant or, to be honest, untrue, a cover to make the problems already in the public eye or hidden in some personal closet more palatable, to make the whole situation more sympathetic.

If the idea of living with Parkinson's becomes the tipping point for this hugely successful performer, a man born into privilege, much loved by his peers and fans, and so naturally anarchistic that it distinguished him from everyone else in the industry, then what does that say about the value of the Michael J. Foxes of the world and the many unknowns who adapt to new restrictions and keep on plugging? Like Groucho Marx, Williams as comedian was one of my idols, and it is unpleasant to raise such a question after anyone's passing. But even when he immersed himself in hilarious mania, he appeared never to veer too far from truth.