Linda Gray, who pIayed the legendary role of Sue Ellen Ewing in the hit show Dallas, had a life filled with excitement and a number of obstacles.
Recalling her childhood in Culver City, CaIifornia, she says how being given the chance to hang out with her friends around the filming studios triggered something in her that made her fall in love with acting. Her father, whom she describes as a rather cold person was always supportive of her career. Her mother used to be a heavy alcoholic while Linda and her sister were growing up so they had to take care of the house for long.
“She wasn’t falling down drunk, there was never any yeIIing,” Linda wrote in her book The Path to Happiness is Always Under Construction. “She wasn’t mean – she was just blurred, in her own world, she would forget to buy food so I started doing the cooking. My sister and I didn’t like her.”
Linda married her first and only husband, whom she separated with in 1983, photographer Edward Lee Thrasher, when she was 21. They had two children together, and although she enjoyed being a mother, it was her husband who somehow stood in her way of making a career in acting.
Although she was part of many commercials, it took Linda quite some time to finally gather the courage to attend acting classes.
In 1967, Linda was paid $25 to be Anne Bancroft’s body double in the poster for the film The Graduate not knowing that years later, or in 2001 to be exact, she would end up playing Mrs Robinson in the West End State production of The Graduate.
During the 1960s, she got a rejection letter from the Glamour Magazine, but that only made her more determined to succeed. “It was so funny that I kept that letter,” she wrote. “I kept the letter because I realized that we all have rejections, and it was her opinion when I was 20 years old. I could have had it devastate my life. But, I didn’t. This feisty streak came out – ‘Oh, yeah? I’m gonna show you!’ With great love and a lot of humor, I kept that letter. It kicked me from behind, and made me want to go and do something.”
After playing small roles, Linda finaIIy got the one that marked her career, that of Sue Ellen Ewing. She appeared in total of 308 episodes on Dallas and played alongside Larry Hagman and Patrick Duffy.
Speaking of her relationship with Hagman, Linda told CM Chat Live: “He was the bad big brother that I never had. He was always doing something in my mind wrong – he was drinking too much, or whatever, and I would reprimand him, he loved that, he loved to do something just to make me crazy. I’d say ‘Don’t eat that. You don’t need that much sugar, and stop drinking.’”
In fact, when Linda was briefly fired from the show for asking for a higher pay, it was Hagman who demanded she gets back.
For her legendary performance in Dallas, Linda received numerous awards, including two Golden Globe Awards for Best Actress – TeIevision Series Drama, as well as a Primetime Emmy Award for Outstanding Lead Actress.
Her son, Jeff Thrasher, followed into her footsteps and worked as a director. Sadly, he was diagnosed with leukemia and passed away in 2020. Linda was devastated. She had a hard time coping with the loss. Recently, she paid tribute to Jeff writing: “A celebration of my son Jeff’s life. He was the kindest, funniest, sweetest human being….. he brought the world such love and was loved by everyone! May his journey be a magicaI one.”https://www.instagram.com/p/CICmEWyrPUt/embed/captioned/?cr=1&v=14&wp=675&rd=https%3A%2F%2Fbengalimedia24.com&rp=%2Fheartbreaking-update-on-dallas-actress-linda-grey%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR2dgWz6EFpC6RtaLAWwCBgR-BcaAhAdm0FRg147EhNfvC0WfZ9fCh18Swk#%7B%22ci%22%3A0%2C%22os%22%3A1751%2C%22ls%22%3A1148.4000000059605%2C%22le%22%3A1748.4000000059605%7D
We are very sorry for her loss. Linda is doing her best to live her life without her son. She is 82 years old and is looking as stunningly beautiful as always
Four Years after My Husband Went Missing, a Dog Brought Me the Jacket He Was Wearing on the Day He Disappeared
Maggie had finally accepted that her husband had vanished on a solo trip four years prior. Maggie felt a surge of hope as their ancient family dog unexpectedly appeared, holding her husband’s faded jacket in its mouth. She followed the dog into the forest, motivated by something beyond reason, and discovered a truth beyond her wildest dreams.
I recall the day Jason departed like it was yesterday. He’d been fighting a bad attitude for months, yet this morning he appeared almost calm. He informed me he wanted a day alone in the mountains with Scout, our beloved black Labrador. Our children, too young to understand, were content simply watching their father scratch Scout’s ears, his first smile in weeks breaking across his face.
“Are you sure you don’t want company?” I inquired as I carried our toddler son, Benny, while our four-year-old daughter, Emily, squeezed my leg.
But he never returned.
The hunt began as soon as he failed to return that night. Friends, neighbors, and search teams explored the forest, shouting out his name, their voices echoing in the vast woods. Weeks passed, and everyone began to look at me with a horrible combination of sympathy and helplessness. After months, they proclaimed him legally de:ad, which I had no choice but to accept, though I was never completely at peace with it.
Life continued on. Jason’s hiking boots remained by the door, and his coffee mug, which had a chip on the rim, was never moved. When the kids asked about him, I’d tell them stories and do my best to keep his memory alive.
Then, on a calm Saturday, as I lay on a blanket watching the kids play in the backyard, I observed movement in the bushes. It was a thin, scruffy dog with a matted and muddy coat. At first, I did not recognize him. But then my heart skipped a beat. It was Scout. After all these years, here he stood, old and fragile but unmistakable.
“Scout?” I whispered, and as if in response, he took a step closer, a familiar green jacket dangling from his mouth—Jason’s favorite hiking jacket. I barely had time to process before Scout turned and started trotting toward the trees. Driven by a mix of hope and fear, I told the kids to stay put and followed.
Through the winding paths, over damp leaves and under low-hanging branches, Scout kept leading me deeper into the forest. And just as the sun began to dip below the trees, we came upon a small, weathered cabin nestled into the woods, almost camouflaged against the thick trunks and greenery.
Inside, moving around as if he’d never left, was Jason.
His hair was long and knotted, with a scruffy beard covering his face, and he appeared to be at ease in his alone. But he wasn’t alone—a woman stood alongside him, close and comfortable, as if they had a life together. My pulse hammered as I grasped the scope of Jason’s secret life.
I pushed open the door, and the creak startled both of them. Jason’s eyes widened, his face a mixture of amazement and acceptance.
“Maggie…” he murmured, his voice too calm and nonchalant.
“Jason,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I looked to the woman next to him, then back at him. “What is this?” I asked, unable to believe what I was seeing.
His response dashed any hope I had left: “I found something real here, something I couldn’t have back there.” He looked to the woman next him and said, “Sarah and I have built a simple, meaningful life.”
His words felt prepared and hollow. Every reason he offered only fueled my sense of betrayal. I’d been grieving him for years, raising our children alone, convinced that he was no longer with us. And now, here he was, rationalizing a full abandonment that had ruined the life we had created.
Without saying another word, I turned and walked away. The guy I had loved, the father of my children, was a ghost I no longer recognized.
The next morning, I sat across from a lawyer, feeling stronger than I had ever been. “I want a divorce,” I replied, “and I want support for our children.”
That day, I let go of the life I’d been holding onto. I realized that Jason had chosen one route, but I had to construct my own, one based on love, honesty, and stability. I would shield my children from a world full with false promises, and I would never look back.
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