Roy Rogers, the “King of the Cowboys,” and his wife, Dale Evans, the “Queen of the West,” were Hollywood legends, starring in over 100 films and “The Roy Rogers Show.” They raised a family of nine children, blending joy with tragedy.
Their children’s stories reflect the couple’s resilience. Cheryl Rogers, adopted in 1941, appeared in some of Roy’s films. Linda Lou, Roy’s biological daughter, now lives in California, surrounded by family. Roy Rogers Jr., known as “Dusty,” became his father’s manager and a musician.
Dale Evans and Roy had a daughter, Robin, who was born with Down syndrome and passed away before age two. Dale honored her in the book *Angel Unaware*. Dodie, adopted at seven months, married and became a grandmother. Sadly, Deborah, adopted during the Korean War, died in a bus accident at age 12, and Sandy Rogers, adopted after Robin’s death, choked to death at 18 in a military hospital.
Tom Fox, Dale’s son from her first marriage, became a school teacher and passed away in 2012.
Their story is one of “joy, tragedy, and enduring love,” a legacy that continues to inspire.
Neighbor Wouldn’t Turn Off His Bright Floodlights at Night, I Deftly Managed the Situation and Maintained Harmony
When my neighbor wouldn’t turn off his bright floodlights at night, my husband and I needed a clever solution to keep the peace.
When the Thompsons moved in next door, they seemed friendly. My wife, Gia, and Susan, the neighbor, quickly bonded while chatting over unpacked boxes. We thought we finally had some neighbors our age to socialize with. Mark, the husband, was often away for work, while Susan stayed home and had a long list of phobias, including fear of the dark, thunderstorms, snakes, clowns, and spiders.
As time passed, Susan’s fear of the dark created an issue that affected Gia and me. Their floodlights, installed soon after they moved in, were excessively bright, like those outside prisons. Gia joked that they could probably be seen from space.
Despite our attempts to address the issue, Susan insisted she needed the lights on for safety when Mark was away. We tried thick curtains and rearranging our bedroom, but nothing helped. After a week of sleepless nights, I approached Susan, asking her to turn off the floodlights after midnight, as they shined directly into our bedroom. She explained her need for safety and refused my suggestion to install a timer.
After several attempts to reason with her and Mark, who felt similarly protective of Susan, we continued to lose sleep. Frustrated, I considered drastic measures, like unscrewing the bulbs or using a pellet gun, but Gia reminded me to stay calm. Instead, she suggested a harmless plan while she and Susan went out for nails.
The next day, I climbed a ladder and slightly unscrewed each bulb to disrupt the connection. That night, when Susan turned on the lights, they flickered and went out. Gia and I finally enjoyed peaceful sleep. Surprisingly, days turned into weeks, and the lights stayed off.
However, one day, I saw Mark fixing the bulbs again. The floodlights blazed back to life that night, and I knew I had to repeat my trick. This cycle continued for months—every time Mark tightened the bulbs, I loosened them.
Then one Saturday, as I trimmed the hedges, Mark approached me. He mentioned his floodlights kept going out, and I managed to keep a straight face while agreeing it might be due to vibrations from the street. I suggested he could leave them off, and he seemed to consider it. After that conversation, Gia and I enjoyed our peaceful, dark evenings once again.
Leave a Reply