After his wife’s death, a struggling father became both Mom and Dad to his only daughter. But in her desperate need to fit in with her wealthy friends, she resented his job and told him he wasn’t enough. Then one day, she opened the final gift he’d saved for her… and it shattered her heart.
Paul wiped down the last table of his evening shift, his calloused hands moving in practiced circles. Around him, waiters in crisp white shirts glided between tables, carrying plates of food that cost more than what he made in a day.
A man wiping a table in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“Hey Paul, you almost done, man? Chef wants to know if you can stay late tonight. The Hendersons are here.” Marcus, the head waiter, straightened his already perfect tie.
Paul glanced at his watch—8:15 p.m. His 16-year-old daughter, Samara, would be home alone. Overtime meant extra money, and they desperately needed that. However, Paul wasn’t in a spot to extend his shift.
“Sorry, Marcus. I can’t tonight. My daughter…”
Marcus nodded with understanding. “No problem. We’ll manage. See you tomorrow!”
“Always,” Paul replied with a tired smile.
A teenage girl lying on a mattress | Source: Pexels
The restaurant was in Westlake Heights, where houses looked like miniature castles. It was a far cry from the modest apartment he and Samara shared in River Bend, a neighborhood that had been up and coming for decades.
Paul’s beat-up Corolla protested as he turned the key. If traffic was kind, he’d be home by 9:00 p.m., just in time to see Samara before she retreated to her room for the night.
The drive home was always bittersweet. It had been five years since Elizabeth’s death, five years of being both mother and father, and five years of watching Samara drift like a boat with no anchor.
Elizabeth had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer when Samara was 11. The doctors gave her six months and she fought for nine.
A cancer patient sitting in a hospital ward | Source: Pexels
Paul remembered those final days with painful clarity—the hospital smell, the steady beep of monitors, and Elizabeth squeezing his hand one last time, whispering, “Take care of our little girl.”
He had promised, but lately he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was failing.
***
Paul pulled into the apartment complex parking lot at 8:50 p.m. He unlocked the door quietly, hoping to find Samara studying or watching TV. Instead, darkness and silence greeted him.
“Sam? Sweetie, I’m home… Samara?” he called, flipping on the light.
The living room was empty. The plate of lasagna he’d prepared sat untouched on the counter and his phone buzzed with a text from Samara:
“At Lily’s. Studying. Be home late. Don’t wait up.”
A man looking at his phone | Source: Pexels
Paul’s shoulders slumped. Lily was the daughter of an affluent industrialist, and they lived in a mansion with an indoor pool and a home theater. She had everything Samara wanted… designer clothes, the latest gadgets, and parents who could afford to give her the world.
With a heavy sigh, he texted: “It’s a school night. Be home by 10. And did you take your pepper spray?”
Paul watched the screen and the typing bubbles blinked on.
“Whatever. I’m not some helpless little girl. It’s not the damn 1950s. 🙄“
He exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that carried more than just air. But he didn’t text back. He knew better by now.
A disheartened man sitting on the chair | Source: Pexels
Paul ate alone, scrolling through the old photos on his phone… pictures of Elizabeth, healthy and laughing, and the three of them at the beach and Disneyland. They looked like a different family—happy, complete, and untouched by grief and financial struggle.
At 10:30 p.m., Samara walked in. At 16, she was the spitting image of her mother with the same hazel eyes and delicate nose. Her long brown hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and she wore a pink sweater Paul didn’t recognize.
“You’re late!”
Samara rolled her eyes. “It’s only THIRTY minutes.”
Cropped shot of a girl wearing a pink sweater and blue jeans | Source: Pexels
“We had an agreement, Sam. Home by ten on school nights.”
“God, Dad, I was studying with Lily. Her parents ordered pizza and insisted I stay for dinner.”
Paul noticed the logo on her sweater that belonged to an upscale boutique. “Is that new?”
“Lily gave it to me. She was going to donate it anyway. It’s not a big deal.”
But it was. Paul knew pride was all they had sometimes, and accepting hand-me-downs from her wealthy friend felt like another reminder of what he couldn’t provide.
A depressed man | Source: Pexels
“Oh, and I need $75 for the science museum field trip next week,” Samara added.
Paul felt his stomach tighten. That meant cutting back on groceries or skipping a bill payment. “I’ll figure it out,” he said, forcing a smile.
“Lily invited me to her family’s lake house this weekend,” Samara continued, her hand already on her doorknob.
“This weekend? I thought we could visit Mom’s grave on Saturday.”
Something flickered across her face… pain, guilt, or perhaps just annoyance. “Do we have to? I sometimes go on my own.”
“You do?” This surprised Paul.
“Sometimes,” Samara repeated vaguely before disappearing into her room.
A grieving young lady mourning beside a loved one’s grave | Source: Freepik
While driving through town the next day, Paul passed the bustling shopping district of Westlake Heights. He spotted Samara outside Gadgets & Gizmos, staring intently at something in the display window before walking away with a deep sigh.
Curious, Paul approached the storefront. The window featured a crystal ballerina figurine priced at $390. His heart sank at the number, but he wondered how many times she’d walked by just to stare at it.
Inside the store, a salesperson approached. “Can I help you find something?”
“I’m curious about the crystal figurine in the window,” Paul said.
“Excellent taste! The ballerina is limited edition… only fifty were made worldwide.”
A crystal ballerina figurine on a store display | Source: Midjourney
After leaving the store, Paul called his friend Miguel, who worked at a glass factory. “Miguel, you mentioned they sometimes need extra hands. Is that offer still good?”
“Sure, buddy. They’re looking for weekend shift workers right now.”
“I’ll take it,” Paul said without hesitation.
***
For the next month, he worked six days a week, putting in hours at the restaurant Monday through Friday and at the factory on Saturdays. The factory work was physically demanding, leaving his hands cramped and his back stiff with pain.
A man showing his greasy hands | Source: Pexels
Samara noticed his exhaustion. “You should find better work,” she commented one evening. “Lily’s dad says there are always janitorial positions at the hospital. At least they have benefits.”
“I’m fine with my current job, dear,” Paul replied, not revealing his second employment. “The Winter Carnival is coming up, right? Do you want to go?”
“Maybe. Lily’s already got her dress. It cost, like, $550.” Samara studied his reaction. “But I don’t need anything fancy. There’s this dress at the mall for $55 that would work.”
Paul nodded. “We can look into it. I’ve been picking up extra hours, so we might be able to manage it.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Samara’s face, replaced by a tentative smile. “Really? You mean it?”
“Of course. You should experience these things. Your mom would want that.”
A teenage girl with a fragile smile | Source: Pexels
By the end of the month, Paul had saved just over $400. It was enough for the figurine, and the idea of seeing Samara’s face light up made every ache and overtime shift worth it.
On Saturday, after his factory shift, Paul purchased the crystal ballerina. Watching the salesperson wrap it, he couldn’t stop picturing Samara’s face.
***
She was watching TV when he arrived home and she barely glanced up as he entered.
“Sweetie,” Paul said, his heart pounding. “I have something for you.”
A man holding a gift box | Source: Pexels
She finally looked at him, her expression curious but guarded.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
With a slight eye roll, Samara complied, holding out her hands. Paul placed the wrapped box in her palms and watched her face carefully.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
“A gift? It’s not my birthday!”
“Go on, honey. Open it!”
Samara peeled the ribbon off, barely glancing at it, and tore open the paper.
Close-up shot of a young girl opening a present | Source: Pexels
She stared at the figurine, her eyebrows knitted with confusion.
“Seriously?” she said, holding it like it might break just from being looked at.
“Do you like it?” Paul asked, his smile faltering. “I saw you looking at it in the store window.”
“You saw me at the store?”
“A few weeks ago. You were standing outside Gadgets & Gizmos.”
“You thought I was looking at THIS? A glass doll? You think I’m five?”
A young lady standing outside a store | Source: Midjourney
“It’s a ballerina. Like Mom used to be. Like you were… I thought you…”
“I haven’t danced in years, Dad. What am I supposed to do with this? It’s just going to sit on a shelf collecting dust.”
Paul felt a sharp pang in his chest. “I thought it would be special. Something to remember your mother by. I thought you… liked it.”
“If you want me to remember Mom, show me pictures. Tell me stories. Don’t spend a fortune on some useless decoration.”
A young lady with her arms crossed | Source: Pexels
Samara stood abruptly. “You know what I was actually looking at that day? The phone. The one every single person at school has except me.”
Paul blinked, confused. “Phone?”
“Yeah. It was right there next to this stupid ballerina. Eighteen hundred bucks with tax. But sure, let’s blow $390 on a stupid glass doll I didn’t ask for!”
“And this isn’t?” Samara gestured with the crystal piece. “What were you thinking? That I’d put this in my room and suddenly everything would be better? That I’d stop being embarrassed about our apartment, your job, and our old car?”
Expensive mobile phones on display | Source: Pexels
“Samara, please—”
But she wasn’t listening. “Do you know what it’s like being the only kid at school whose dad is a busboy? Whose mom is dead? Whose clothes come from discount stores or rich friends’ castoffs?”
“I’m trying my best, sweetie…” Paul said softly, his eyes glassy.
“Well, your best isn’t enough! You should have never had a child if you couldn’t give her a decent life! You’re a living, walking, breathing failure, Dad! You hear me…?”
A frustrated girl holding her head | Source: Pexels
And then, in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion, Samara hurled the crystal ballerina to the floor. It shattered with a sharp, crystalline sound, glistening fragments scattering across the worn carpet.
Paul stared at the broken pieces, tears welling in his eyes. “Samara… what did you do?”
She stormed to her room, the door slamming shut a second later.
A heartbroken man looking at the floor | Source: Pexels
Paul stood in the silence she left behind, his eyes fixed on the glinting wreckage. With trembling hands and a heart that felt like it had cracked wide open, he knelt and began gathering the shards.
One sharp edge sliced his finger, drawing a thin line of crimson, but he didn’t flinch. He just kept going.
He dropped the pieces into the plastic bin one by one, each clink sounding louder than the last.
Grayscale shot of glass shards | Source: Pexels
Then, the tears came… loud, heavy, and unstoppable. He sank onto the couch, his eyes fixed on the framed photo of Elizabeth on the shelf.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I tried. I swear I tried. But I failed her. I failed both of you.”
An eerie silence swallowed the room, broken only by the steady ticking of the clock and Paul’s muffled sobs.
After a long moment, he wiped his face with the back of his hand. His eyes were swollen, but there was something steady in them now. He got up, picked his empty wallet off the counter, and stared at it like it held the answer to everything.
He didn’t know how yet… but he was going to get her that phone.
A shattered man staring at the ceiling | Source: Pexels
For the next three months, Paul worked nearly every day, often taking double shifts. He saw Samara only in passing, with brief exchanges in the morning or late at night. Their conversations were stilted, carefully avoiding any mention of the crystal ballerina incident.
Finally, after 92 days of relentless work, Paul had saved enough for the phone. On a sunny Thursday afternoon, he drove to Gadgets & Gizmos, his heart pounding with anticipation.
The same salesperson helped him. “Back for another special gift?”
“Yes, I want that phone,” Paul said, feeling both pride and nervousness.
A salesman in the store | Source: Pexels
“Excellent choice! Would you like it in Midnight Black or Stellar Silver?”
“Which is more popular with teenagers?”
“Definitely the Stellar Silver.”
“I’ll take it.”
The phone was wrapped in vibrant blue paper with a silver bow. As Paul left the store, he felt lighter than he had in months. He couldn’t wait to see Samara’s face when she opened this gift.
A blue gift box with a silver bow | Source: Midjourney
Maybe they’d order pizza to celebrate, or watch a movie together like they used to. Something silly she’d pretend to hate but secretly loved. Maybe she’d hug him without pulling away, and for a moment, she’d be that little girl again who used to chirp, “I love you, Daddy!” every time he brought home her favorite candy.
Maybe… just maybe, she’d be proud of him.
Paul was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the car running the red light until it was too late. He stepped into the crosswalk just as the vehicle barreled through the intersection. There was a screech of tires, a sickening impact… and then darkness.
Aerial view of speeding vehicles on a street | Source: Unsplash
Samara was walking to her classroom when her phone buzzed with an unknown number. After ignoring several calls, she finally answered.
“Is this Samara? This is Nurse Jenkins from Westlake Memorial Hospital. I’m calling about your father, Paul.”
Samara stopped walking, her blood turning cold. “My… father?”
“I’m afraid there’s been an accident. Your father was hit by a car. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible.”
Samara stood frozen in the hallway, her pulse roaring in her ears. For a second, she couldn’t speak or move… just stared at the lockers across from her like they might tell her it wasn’t real.
A young lady holding her phone | Source: Unsplash
“Wait… what happened? Is he okay?” she asked but the nurse had already hung up.
Samara’s sneakers squeaked against the tile as she burst into the class. Lily looked up in alarm, halfway through a worksheet.
“Lily, I need you. It’s my dad… he’s in the hospital.”
Without asking another question, Lily grabbed her backpack and followed her out.
***
The car ride was a blur. Samara stared straight ahead, knuckles white against her thighs. She didn’t say much, just whispered, “Drive faster,” and wiped her face with her sleeve when she thought Lily wasn’t looking.
A speeding car on the road | Source: Unsplash
At the hospital, Samara rushed to the front desk, her voice already trembling. “My dad… Paul. He was in an accident. Please… can I see him?”
A doctor appeared from the double doors, his expression grave.
“You must be his daughter,” he said, stepping closer.
Samara’s stomach dropped.
A doctor holding a file | Source: Pexels
“Samara? I’m Dr. Reese. Let’s sit down.”
“Just tell me if he’s okay.”
“I’m very sorry. Your father sustained severe trauma from the impact. Despite our best efforts, he passed away a few minutes ago.”
The words didn’t make sense. Her father couldn’t be gone. He was invincible, always there, always working… and always trying.
“No. That’s not right. Check again. Please.”
Grayscale shot of a startled girl’s eyes | Source: Pexels
“Would you like to see him?”
Samara nodded numbly, allowing herself to be led to a quiet room. Her father lay on a bed, his face peaceful but unnaturally still.
“Dad?” she whispered. “Dad, I’m here.”
No response came. The reality began to sink in, wave after crushing wave of grief and regret.
“Dad?” Samara stepped closer to the hospital bed. “No, no… no. Dad, please… wake up.”
She clutched his hand, cold and still. “Don’t do this to me. Dad? Dad?”
The beeping of machines filled the silence Paul wasn’t breaking.
A man lying still | Source: Pexels
A nurse entered quietly, carrying a plastic bag. “These are your father’s personal effects. And this was with him at the time of the accident.” She handed Samara a gift-wrapped package, its blue paper stained with crimson streaks.
Inside was a box for the phone… the exact model she had coveted for months. Attached to it was a handwritten note:
“Sweetheart,
I know you’re ashamed to be my daughter, but I’ve always been proud to be your father. Hope this makes you happy & hope you forgive me… for everything. I’m trying. But I need some time to be able to get back on my feet again. But I promise to make you happy… even if it would cost my life.
Love, Dad.”
A primal scream tore from Samara’s throat. “He worked extra shifts,” she gasped between sobs. “He was working himself to death for this stupid phone. For me.”
A girl crying | Source: Pexels
In the days that followed, Samara moved through the funeral arrangements in a fog of grief. The restaurant staff and glass factory workers attended the service, sharing stories of Paul’s dedication.
“Your dad talked about you all the time,” Miguel told her. “Every shift, he’d say how this extra money was going to make his girl happy.”
After the funeral, Samara returned to the empty apartment. In the kitchen trash, she spotted a familiar glint… fragments of the crystal ballerina. With painstaking care, she collected every piece she could find.
A lonely young lady sitting on the floor in her house | Source: Pexels
Over the next few days, she worked meticulously with super glue, piecing the ballerina back together. It was imperfect. The cracks were visible and some tiny pieces were missing. But there was beauty in its brokenness… a reminder of what had been lost and could never be fully restored.
Samara placed the repaired ballerina on her bedside table, next to a framed photo of her parents.
The new phone remained in its box, untouched in her desk drawer. She couldn’t bear to use it, knowing the cost had been so much higher than dollars and cents.
Close-up shot of a phone in a box | Source: Unsplash
That night, as the apartment sat quiet, Samara opened her old phone and typed a message to her dad’s number.
“I’m proud of you, Dad.”
She hit send, knowing it would go nowhere. But seeing his name light up on the screen one last time… it felt like he was still with her, if only for a moment.
A girl using her phone | Source: Pexels
This famous teen heartthrob is now 79 – try not to smile when you see him today.
One of the major musical stars of the 1960s and 1970s was Bobby Sherman. When I think back on it, I can hardly think of a single friend who didn’t at some point develop feelings for him.
Sherman sold millions of records, performed in front of thousands of people, put out several albums, and gained recognition as an actor. But eventually, at the height of his popularity, he made the decision to permanently leave the entertainment industry.
This, however, wasn’t because the 79-year-old thought his abilities had declined in any kind. No, he was fighting for something far more important: the preservation of life.
Everything you need to know about the renowned artist Bobby Sherman is provided here!
Bobby Sherman was raised in Van Nuys, a community next to Los Angeles, after being born in Santa Monica, California, on July 22, 1943.
Bobby Sherman’s childhood
He was reported to have mastered the trumpet by the age of 11, and subsequently the piano, trombone, piano, and of course, the guitar. Sherman went to Birmingham High School. He joined a band there and had a keen interest in singing. He apparently picked up the incredible skill of playing sixteen instruments throughout the years.
Following his high school graduation in 1961, Sherman enrolled in Woodland Hill, California’s Pierce College. A romance there would permanently alter the path of his life.
Sherman met his first lover while pursuing his studies in child psychology at Pierce College. She made the decision to bring him along to the cast party of The Greatest Story Ever Told one evening.
That was when Sherman had began to play music. Many folks in the San Fernando Valley knew he had a good voice because he sang with several bands there. Sherman so seized the chance to showcase his skills when he got to the party.
He subsequently recalled it, saying, “I was always the guy who had the guts to get up and sing in front of people.”
It probably helped a little bit because Bobby had party pals who were on stage with the band. Either way, he stood up in front of the group and sang What I’d Say by Ray Charles.
found during a party in Hollywood
As it was a Hollywood party, a number of entertainment celebrities were present. Sal Mineo, Natalie Wood, and Jane Fonda were a few of them.
They saw his talent after the show, and Mineo made the decision to mentor him.
“It was said by others, ‘Who’s handling you?’” Sherman remarked, “I had no idea what that meant.”
“Well, you know, I was a Van Nuys kid, and I was like, ‘What do they mean, handling me?’” I understood then that they intended representation.
He quickly became acquainted with Hollywood. Bobby Sherman was sent to an audition just three days later by an agent who had been tipped off by a partygoer. Bobby was cast as a featured character in Shindig, a new television series.
Even though Bobby was only in that capacity for two years, it was all he needed to leave his impact. At that point, he had become the national darling, and jobs were popping up out of every nook and cranny.
Sherman had guest appearances on a number of television programs after Shindig was canceled in 1966, including The FBI, Honey West, and The Monkees. Even though he had begun to gain attention in Hollywood, his major break came in 1968.
Bobby Sherman: acting, albums, songs, and music
Sherman spent two full years as the stuttering Jason Bolt in the television series Here Comes the Bridges. At the end of his run, his character stopped having stutters, and the show was eventually canceled.
Sherman discovered how well-liked Jason Bolt was by the public when he made an appearance at a Buffalo telethon. Suddenly, he was more than simply a rising star. Instead, he was now a celebrity.
Sherman told Tulsa World, “The show had just gone on the air, and we didn’t even have any records out yet.”
“Robert Brown, myself, and Greg Morris from Mission: Impossible from Here Come The Brides were requested to participate in the telethon, and things were going great until the fire marshal entered the room and announced, “We have a problem.” You must greet some individuals, so you’d better make your way to the second floor.
“They unlocked this window, and I peered outside, and the exit of this TV station was a sea of faces,” he continued. It was simply amazing. And that’s when I realized something was going on.
For Bobby, the ensuing year was “kind of limbo.” But that’s when he started getting interested in songwriting and experimented with his eight-track recording apparatus.
Bobby went on to become a professional singer, even if his voice wasn’t completely recognized at the time.
Bobby Sherman’s spouse, kids, and family
Sherman’s youthful fan base purchased millions of records between 1969 and 1971, during which time he released hits including Julie, Do Ya Love Me, Easy Come, Easy Go, and Little Woman.
One million copies of four distinct recorded albums and one million copies of six different single recordings were sold by him.
In 1971, he stated, “A song begins with an idea – one line.”I develop that into a full lyric. I then arranged the music to fit it.
Sherman starred in a number of guest roles after his 1970 and 1971 stint on the television show Getting Together, which was a spinoff of The Partridge Family and followed the lives of two songwriters.
Sherman initially married Patti Carnel in 1971, which also happened to coincide with his ascent to stardom. Christopher and Tyler, the couple’s two boys, were born.
Sherman made the decision to construct a scale replica of Disneyland’s Main Street in his garden because he wanted his children to grow up in an amazing environment. It took him almost two and a half years to finish the project, and it apparently cost him about fifteen thousand dollars to create.
The initiative wasn’t well received by everyone; his wife reportedly found the incessant hammering to be bothersome.
“I had no idea what home was,” Sherman said in a People interview. “She even threatened to kill me if I didn’t finish it.”
Bobby’s children served as the model for his new career in addition to inspiring him to construct his own portion of Disneyland.
Bobby rose to prominence on television before celebrities like Shaun Cassidy and even David Cassidy. Eventually, people like Donny Osmond “replaced” him.
But at the height of his popularity, millions of people loved Sherman, who was starring in popular TV shows and putting out hit tunes at the same time. Tiger Beat and Sixteen turned into two of his favorite records.
Sherman clarified that despite living the life of luxury that very few people get to experience, he would typically film five days a week and even have nighttime programs on the weekends. It’s safe to say that the hectic schedule had its effects.
“I didn’t know what home was for three years because it was so hectic,” he said to the Washington Post.
“I had no idea where I was, and I was lost.” I needed constant reminders. To be really honest, though, I had the best experience ever because of the fantastic concerts and amazing fans. Even though it was the classic love-in, I felt like I was totally taken advantage of.
Bobby Sherman gave up music to save people’s lives.
Then, in the middle of his enormous notoriety, Bobby made the abrupt decision to change careers to something completely different but equally significant.
In the end, he made the decision to turn around and give up his career in music and television in an effort to save lives.
Sherman’s former wife Patti was terrified of blood, and he was deeply involved in his children’s upbringing. Accidents happen frequently, as anyone who has reared children will attest, and Christopher and Tyler frequently fell and hurt themselves.
These falls occasionally resulted in minor cuts and scrapes as well as bleeding knees. Sherman made the decision to enroll in certain classes in order to better manage these kinds of circumstances. After taking an introductory course on first aid and CPR, he moved on to volunteer as an emergency medical technician.
“I rescued the life of a small 5-year-old girl on the very first call. Indeed, that is the most amazing feeling, I thought to myself. In an interview from 1994, Bobby recounted.
Sherman completed more training and went on to work for the Los Angeles Police Department as a first aid instructor for officers.
Emergency medical technician Bobby Sherman
Bobby was sworn in as a police officer in 1992 and appointed chief medical training officer for the Los Angeles Police Department. In the field, he gave birth to five children, and in 1994, he bravely faced hardship.
Sherman was awakened by an earthquake at his Encino, California, home on January 17, 1994. Rather than taking cover, he made the decision to hop in his truck and drive directly to the epicenter.
While some needed first aid, others there needed advise. Either way, Bobby’s expertise and presence were required.
Even though Bobby’s profession choice put him in danger and exposed him to many challenging circumstances, at his core he was still an entertainer and had many of the endearing traits from his days in the business. In fact, he ran across a few of his former admirers on the field.
He used to tell a tale about how, as a teen idol, his celebrity followed him around when he went on fire department paramedic rescue calls.
signed letters to patients
Bobby told The Times, “We were working on a bleeding woman who had passed out on one call in Northridge.”
Her spouse was staring at me nonstop. He exclaimed, “Look, honey, it’s Bobby Sherman!” at the end. The woman started as she came to. “Oh great, I must look like a mess,” she exclaimed. She appeared fine, so I reassured her not to worry.
Bobby kept using his improvised studio to record music for movies and TV series over the years. In 1997, he made his final appearance on television when he starred in an episode of Fraiser.
He participated in the “Teen Idol Tour” in the late 1990s with Peter Noone, Davy Jones, and Micky Dolenz from the Monkees. But he then made the decision to officially leave the entertainment industry.
Sherman thanked his supporters for everything and said it was difficult to maintain the success.
“My life’s work and accomplishments can be attributed to the blessings bestowed upon me by my fans.” The celebrity told Tulsa World, “It’s stayed with me, so I can have the opportunity to do things that I really love doing.”
Bobby Sherman’s current net worth is as follows.
Sherman said, “I don’t think there’s anything I would change, other than maybe being a little bit more aware of [the success], because I probably could’ve enjoyed the fun of it a little more.” It required a lot of labor. There were many tears, sweats, and bloodsheds. But the best of times was had by all.
In 2011, Bobby Sherman married Brigette, his second wife, and the two of them are still together today. They established The Brigitte and Bobby Sherman Children’s Foundation, a youth facility in Ghana devoted to fusing education and music, the same year they got married.
Bobby is 79 years old today. Still, I think you’ll all agree that he looks a much like himself because he still has a lot of his signature style!
Bobby Sherman was a fantastic actor and performer, and those wonderful years will always be missed!
To honor the legendary vocalist, kindly encourage your friends and family to read this article on Facebook!
Leave a Reply