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From “YOUNG at HEART”: Roy Rogers & Dale Evans

By Anne Snowden Crosman

EDITOR’S NOTE: Anne Crosman’s book of essays, “Young at Heart” was first published in 2003. Winner of the Benjamin Franklin Award and now in its third printing, we are pleased to offer this chapter about the “King and Queen of the Cowboys.” I was lucky enough to grow up with heroes like Roy Rogers and I have to admit, I had a crush on Dale when I was three.

Anne interviewed them both, not long before Roy’s death in 1998. Dale died just three years later...JS

Dale used to speak and perform nearly full-time. Now she’s cut back to one week a month. “I appear before religious groups,” she says. “I’ve done things for abused children, retarded children, and senior citizens. The Lord is my life, my light, and my salvation, and has been for almost 45 years, shortly after Roy and I married. I had a son Tom from a previous marriage, and Tom was a very committed, faithful Christian. He was the one who made me commit my life to Christ.” She smiles, showing movie-star perfect teeth.

“I was raised in a wonderful family,” continues Roy. “But we lived way out in the country and never got to church very much. So I didn’t know too much about it until I met Dale. She married me with three babies. I’d lost my frst wife when the last baby was born. Dale was smart enough to know that she couldn’t handle this unless she had the help of God. I’ve got to give God credit for taking care of me and having me meet Dale.”

They smile at each other.

Dale Evans Born: October 31, 1912, Uvalde, TX Profession: Singer, actress, author, speaker Home: Apple Valley, CA

Roy Rogers: Born: November 5, 1911, Cincinnati, OH Profession: Singer, actor, businessman Home: Apple Valley, CA

“You talk about being young at heart,” says Dale. “When I do concerts, there is a blind fellow, a terrifc Christian and beautifully talented man named Ken Medema. He wrote a song called ‘Lover of the Children.’ It’s a wonderful song and I sing it wherever I’m speaking....I’ll be singing that next weekend in New Orleans at a Southern Baptist Women’s banquet on aging,” she says in a lilting drawl.

“You know, I wrote a book Homestretch three or four years ago. It was all about the fact that aging should be enjoyable and that we should be able to feel so much in the homestretch, from our backlog of experiences. It’s all about the spirit of being young.

Age is an attitude,” she says frmly. “Not a chronological thing.”

“It HURTS once in a while, too,” chimes in Roy, referring to aches and pains. They laugh together.

Dale goes on, “It’s getting up in the morning and thinking, ‘What do I have to do today? What CAN I do?’ Always keeping your mind thinking and active, but also prayerful, believing in the Lord. That’s the subject of the book I’m writing now: Celebrate Tomorrow. Look toward tomorrow with anticipation instead of dread.”

They sit close, side by side, on their office sofa. They finish each other’s sentences. They laugh and talk at once. After 44 years of marriage, the King of the American Cowboys and Queen of the West still appear very much in love.

“I feel very fortunate to be here,” says Roy in a soft, musical drawl. “Because last year I had a real close call. Not only an aneurysm, but right after that I had four straight colds and ten days of antibiotics for each one. The last cold turned into pneumonia.

At one time I couldn’t raise my hand, I was so weak.” He smiles wanly and shakes his head. Dale nods with concern.

“I got so weak, I said a little prayer,” he continues. “I said,

‘Lord, if You got anything left for me to do here on earth, let me stay a while longer. If not, let’s get out of here.’ And that’s exactly how I felt.”

He speaks quietly and intensely. A small, wiry man with a baby face and blue eyes, Roy looks the quintessential cowboy in Western shirt and pants, and a fawn-colored hat pushed back on his brow.

Dale, also dressed in western clothes, adds quietly, “Roy prayed the night before he was operated on for the aneurysm. It was quite serious. They told me we could lose him, but they got him just in time. That’s the same operation that killed Lucille Ball. They didn’t get her in time.” Her voice is sad.

During his recovery, Roy got a big boost from fan mail.

On a hot, spring morning, I’ve driven northeast from Los Angeles to the high desert and the mountain town of Victorville, site of the Roy Rogers-Dale Evans Museum, which opened in 1976. It’s still early, but tourists are lining up outside. The museum is a history of the Cowboy Couple, flled with memorabilia, including their favorite horses Trigger and Butter-

Still incredulous, he explains, “There was an article in the newspaper that said I was sick and in the hospital. The frst week I got 15,000 letters and 5,000 the next week. Somebody sent me a get-well card about the size of that wall.” He points to a greeting card tacked on a long wall in the hall.

“Everybody in this company signed that card. I’ll show it to you later,” he says. “I read those beautiful letters and I felt that I was being bad by even THINKING about dying. Such beautiful letters that tears come to my eyes. And I read them hour after hour.” His

milk, mounted, in rearing positions; their rodeo and motion picture costumes, hit record albums and sheet music, comic books, even cereal boxes with their photos on them. There are several of Roy’s cars, and one stands out: a long, sleek, lemon-yellow, 1963 Lincoln Continental convertible.

I fnd Roy surprisingly small next to Dale, who is bigger, with strawberry-blonde hair in

They sit close, side by side, on their offce sofa. They fnish each other’s sentences. They laugh and talk at once.

After 44 years of marriage, the King of the American Cowboys and Queen of the West

still appear very much in love.

voice is hushed.

He recovered and now makes a point of taking it easy. “I don’t make personal appearances or ride in rodeos and parades anymore,” he says. “I don’t ride horses anymore. I always say my bowling ball gets heavier and my horse gets taller every year.” He chuckles. “People see those old movies and still think I’m 40 years old, but I’m not! They forget that time passes, and you’re going with it.

“I’m tired out of making personal appearances,” he goes on gently. “I am not trying to promote any kind of appearance. But Dale,” he looks at her fondly, “she does her Christian work and she does a beautiful job on it. It keeps her going. If I could talk and ad lib like she does on Christianity....” He stops, a silent compliment hanging in the air. They smile at each other. “But I was raised on a farm and my vocabulary isn’t that big.” They both laugh. “It’s harder for me to get up and just talk about things.”

a bouffant style. Both smile continuously. He wears a hearing aid whose batteries squeal from time to time, eventually causing him to swear lightly under his breath.

“The most fun thing I do now is wake up!” He laughs, eyes crinkling. “No, I enjoy coming over here to the museum.

The first thing in the morning, I go in there and the people come in and they are just BEAUTIFUL. I shake hands with them and they take pictures. They all have cameras.

“We don’t sign autographs, because once you start, you’re there two or three hours. I quit that about six years ago.” He pauses. “I prayed about how I was going to do it. The next morning I came in that back door down there, and this little girl about 12 come up to me and said, ‘Mr. Rogers, can I get your autograph?’ He mimics a child’s shy, high-pitched voice.

“And I said, ‘Honey, we don’t sign autographs anymore.

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	From “YOUNG at HEART”: Roy Rogers & Dale Evans By Anne Snowden Crosman EDITOR’S NOTE: Anne Crosman’s book of essays, “Young at Heart” was first published in 2003. Winner of the Benjamin Franklin Award and now in its third printing, we are pleased to offer this chapter about the “King and Queen of the Cowboys.” I was lucky enough to grow up with heroes like Roy Rogers and I have to admit, I had a crush on Dale when I was three. Anne interviewed them both, not long before Roy’s death in 1998. Dale died just three years later...JS Dale used to speak and perform nearly full-time. Now she’s cut back to one week a month. “I appear before religious groups,” she says. “I’ve done things for abused children, retarded children, and senior citizens. The Lord is my life, my light, and my salvation, and has been for almost 45 years, shortly after Roy and I married. I had a son Tom from a previous marriage, and Tom was a very committed, faithful Christian. He was the one who made me commit my life to Christ.” She smiles, showing movie-star perfect teeth. “I was raised in a wonderful family,” continues Roy. “But we lived way out in the country and never got to church very much. So I didn’t know too much about it until I met Dale. She married me with three babies. I’d lost my frst wife when the last baby was born. Dale was smart enough to know that she couldn’t handle this unless she had the help of God. I’ve got to give God credit for taking care of me and having me meet Dale.” They smile at each other. Dale Evans Born: October 31, 1912, Uvalde, TX Profession: Singer, actress, author, speaker Home: Apple Valley, CA Roy Rogers: Born: November 5, 1911, Cincinnati, OH Profession: Singer, actor, businessman Home: Apple Valley, CA “You talk about being young at heart,” says Dale. “When I do concerts, there is a blind fellow, a terrifc Christian and beautifully talented man named Ken Medema. He wrote a song called ‘Lover of the Children.’ It’s a wonderful song and I sing it wherever I’m speaking....I’ll be singing that next weekend in New Orleans at a Southern Baptist Women’s banquet on aging,” she says in a lilting drawl. “You know, I wrote a book Homestretch three or four years ago. It was all about the fact that aging should be enjoyable and that we should be able to feel so much in the homestretch, from our backlog of experiences. It’s all about the spirit of being young. Age is an attitude,” she says frmly. “Not a chronological thing.” “It HURTS once in a while, too,” chimes in Roy, referring to aches and pains. They laugh together. Dale goes on, “It’s getting up in the morning and thinking, ‘What do I have to do today? What CAN I do?’ Always keeping your mind thinking and active, but also prayerful, believing in the Lord. That’s the subject of the book I’m writing now: Celebrate Tomorrow. Look toward tomorrow with anticipation instead of dread.” They sit close, side by side, on their office sofa. They finish each other’s sentences. They laugh and talk at once. After 44 years of marriage, the King of the American Cowboys and Queen of the West still appear very much in love. “I feel very fortunate to be here,” says Roy in a soft, musical drawl. “Because last year I had a real close call. Not only an aneurysm, but right after that I had four straight colds and ten days of antibiotics for each one. The last cold turned into pneumonia. At one time I couldn’t raise my hand, I was so weak.” He smiles wanly and shakes his head. Dale nods with concern. “I got so weak, I said a little prayer,” he continues. “I said, ‘Lord, if You got anything left for me to do here on earth, let me stay a while longer. If not, let’s get out of here.’ And that’s exactly how I felt.” He speaks quietly and intensely. A small, wiry man with a baby face and blue eyes, Roy looks the quintessential cowboy in Western shirt and pants, and a fawn-colored hat pushed back on his brow. Dale, also dressed in western clothes, adds quietly, “Roy prayed the night before he was operated on for the aneurysm. It was quite serious. They told me we could lose him, but they got him just in time. That’s the same operation that killed Lucille Ball. They didn’t get her in time.” Her voice is sad. During his recovery, Roy got a big boost from fan mail. On a hot, spring morning, I’ve driven northeast from Los Angeles to the high desert and the mountain town of Victorville, site of the Roy Rogers-Dale Evans Museum, which opened in 1976. It’s still early, but tourists are lining up outside. The museum is a history of the Cowboy Couple, flled with memorabilia, including their favorite horses Trigger and Butter- Still incredulous, he explains, “There was an article in the newspaper that said I was sick and in the hospital. The frst week I got 15,000 letters and 5,000 the next week. Somebody sent me a get-well card about the size of that wall.” He points to a greeting card tacked on a long wall in the hall. “Everybody in this company signed that card. I’ll show it to you later,” he says. “I read those beautiful letters and I felt that I was being bad by even THINKING about dying. Such beautiful letters that tears come to my eyes. And I read them hour after hour.” His milk, mounted, in rearing positions; their rodeo and motion picture costumes, hit record albums and sheet music, comic books, even cereal boxes with their photos on them. There are several of Roy’s cars, and one stands out: a long, sleek, lemon-yellow, 1963 Lincoln Continental convertible. I fnd Roy surprisingly small next to Dale, who is bigger, with strawberry-blonde hair in They sit close, side by side, on their offce sofa. They fnish each other’s sentences. They laugh and talk at once. After 44 years of marriage, the King of the American Cowboys and Queen of the West still appear very much in love. voice is hushed. He recovered and now makes a point of taking it easy. “I don’t make personal appearances or ride in rodeos and parades anymore,” he says. “I don’t ride horses anymore. I always say my bowling ball gets heavier and my horse gets taller every year.” He chuckles. “People see those old movies and still think I’m 40 years old, but I’m not! They forget that time passes, and you’re going with it. “I’m tired out of making personal appearances,” he goes on gently. “I am not trying to promote any kind of appearance. But Dale,” he looks at her fondly, “she does her Christian work and she does a beautiful job on it. It keeps her going. If I could talk and ad lib like she does on Christianity....” He stops, a silent compliment hanging in the air. They smile at each other. “But I was raised on a farm and my vocabulary isn’t that big.” They both laugh. “It’s harder for me to get up and just talk about things.” a bouffant style. Both smile continuously. He wears a hearing aid whose batteries squeal from time to time, eventually causing him to swear lightly under his breath. “The most fun thing I do now is wake up!” He laughs, eyes crinkling. “No, I enjoy coming over here to the museum. The first thing in the morning, I go in there and the people come in and they are just BEAUTIFUL. I shake hands with them and they take pictures. They all have cameras. “We don’t sign autographs, because once you start, you’re there two or three hours. I quit that about six years ago.” He pauses. “I prayed about how I was going to do it. The next morning I came in that back door down there, and this little girl about 12 come up to me and said, ‘Mr. Rogers, can I get your autograph?’ He mimics a child’s shy, high-pitched voice. “And I said, ‘Honey, we don’t sign autographs anymore.

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