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!
On Her 18th Birthday, Girl’s Parents Kicked Her Out Without a Word, 10 Years Later She Gets a Bill from Them — Story of the Day
Claire had spent a decade proving she didn’t need them. She built her life from the ground up, earned her success. But just as she secured the job of her dreams, a letter arrived—a ghost from the past, wrapped in hospital bills. Her parents had abandoned her at eighteen. Now, they wanted something.
The corridor smelled like polished wood and expensive perfume, a scent that carried the weight of power and money.
Claire inhaled deeply, willing her nerves to settle. The smooth marble floor beneath her heels felt cold, solid—nothing like the twisting feeling in her stomach.
She shifted her weight, adjusting the crisp navy blazer she had bought specifically for today. Professional but not stiff. Confident but not arrogant.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her mind, but now that she was here, the air felt thick, pressing in on her lungs.
A voice sliced through the silence.
“They’re waiting for you.”
Claire turned her head. A woman, mid-fifties, sleek blonde bob, the kind of person who’d been in this building longer than the wallpaper.
Her lips were pursed, her expression unreadable but edged with something close to skepticism.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire recognized it instantly. You’re too young.
She gave a curt nod, straightening her back. Not today, lady.
With measured steps, she walked through the towering glass doors into the conference room.
The place oozed money. A heavy mahogany desk dominated the center, sleek leather chairs arranged around it.
The light from the city skyline filtered through massive windows, painting the polished wood in gold and gray.
Three figures sat at the table, waiting.
The man in the middle, silver-haired, sharp-eyed, held up a crisp, printed copy of her résumé.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Impressive,” he said, his voice smooth, controlled. But then he leaned back slightly, tapping the paper. “But let’s address the elephant in the room.”
Here it comes.
“You’re twenty-eight.” He let the words hang, as if waiting for the weight of them to sink in. “We envisioned this position for someone… more experienced.”
Claire didn’t blink. She had expected this. Rehearsed for it.
She folded her hands neatly on the table, her voice even. “With all due respect, experience isn’t just about time—it’s about mileage.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The second man, younger but just as skeptical, lifted a brow.
Claire continued, her voice steady.
“Some people took their time. They studied, partied, eased into their careers, knowing they had a safety net. I didn’t have that luxury. I started working at eighteen. I put myself through school, built my career with my own hands. I didn’t wait for life to start. I made it happen.”
She met their gazes one by one, letting her words settle, feeling the pulse of the room shift.
A silence stretched between them. Not the awkward kind—the kind where gears turn.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The woman at the table—sleek bun, smart suit—was the first to smile. Subtle but unmistakable.
Finally, the man in gray stood, smoothing down his jacket. He extended a hand.
“Welcome aboard, Claire.”
She gripped his palm firmly, her pulse steady now.
She had earned this.
Claire pushed open the door to her apartment, laughter bubbling from her lips as she kicked it shut behind her. The day had been long, exhausting, but damn, it had been good. She flung her bag onto the couch and ran a hand through her hair, letting out a deep sigh.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lisa was already sprawled on the couch, legs tucked under her, a glass of wine in hand. She grinned, lifting her glass in the air like a toast.
“I told you, Claire! That job was yours.”
Claire let out a small chuckle, bending down to unstrap her heels.
“I wouldn’t say it was easy. They practically counted my wrinkles to see if I qualified.”
She tossed the shoes aside, wiggling her toes against the cool wooden floor.
Lisa snorted, shaking her head.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Their loss if they’d passed on you. But they didn’t, because you’re a damn powerhouse. And now? This salary? You’re officially untouchable.”
Claire leaned against the kitchen counter, grabbing a bottle of water. She twisted the cap off, staring at it for a moment before taking a slow sip.
“Yeah…” she said, voice quieter now. “I just had to grow up fast.”
Lisa tilted her head, watching her. “You don’t regret it, do you?”
Claire forced a smile, shaking her head. “No. Not really.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her fingers absently sifted through the pile of mail she had grabbed on her way in. Bills, junk, some real estate flyer. Then—she froze.
A stiff, cream-colored envelope sat among the others, the return address typed in bold black letters.
Her breath hitched.
Lisa frowned, noticing the sudden shift in her expression. “Claire?”
Claire didn’t respond. Her fingers trembled as she turned the envelope over, her eyes locked onto the familiar address.
She hadn’t seen it in a decade.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lisa sat up straighter, concern creeping into her voice. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Claire swallowed, forcing out the words. “I never thought I’d see this address again.”
Lisa leaned forward. “Whose is it?”
Claire’s throat felt tight. “My parents’.”
Silence settled between them, thick and unmoving. Lisa’s eyes widened, confusion flashing across her face.
“I haven’t seen them since my eighteenth birthday,” Claire said finally, her voice hollow, distant.
“They woke me up that morning, told me to come downstairs. My bags were packed. Just sitting there. They said I was an adult now. That I had to figure life out on my own.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lisa’s jaw slackened. “Claire… that’s—”
“Messed up?” Claire let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. It was.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, taking a sharp breath, Claire ripped the envelope open.
A single sheet of paper.
Her stomach twisted. Hospital bills.
Tens of thousands.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her father’s name at the top.
Her pulse roared in her ears. Her hands gripped the letter so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Lisa hesitated before speaking. “What… what does it say?”
Claire’s jaw clenched.
“I swore I’d never go back,” she whispered.
But now?
Now, she had to know why.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The house looked the same. The same peeling white paint, the same crooked mailbox that had leaned slightly to the left since she was a kid.
Even the porch swing, weathered and creaking in the breeze, was still there, swaying as if nothing had changed. But everything had.
Claire stepped out of her car, barely shutting the door before the front door flew open.
“Claire!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her mother’s voice rang through the yard, cracked with emotion. She rushed toward her, arms wide, eyes already glistening with tears.
Claire didn’t move. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, but she remained stiff, her body rejecting the embrace.
Funny how you want me now.
Her mother pulled back just enough to cup Claire’s face, her fingers trembling. “Sweetheart, you came,” she breathed, her voice thick with relief.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire stepped out of her grip, ignoring the warmth in her mother’s eyes. “Where’s Dad?”
A flicker of something crossed her mother’s face—hesitation, unease. Then she forced a small, broken smile. “He’s in the hospital. It’s been… hard.”
Claire scoffed. “Hard?” Her voice sharpened, each syllable slicing through the humid afternoon air.
“You mean like being kicked out at eighteen with nothing but a duffel bag?”
Her mother flinched. She looked down, rubbing her hands together as if she could smooth out the past with the motion. “We knew you’d make it. We wanted you to be strong.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich. You abandoned me. How do you even know all this!?” The word tasted like metal in her mouth.
Her mother’s lip trembled. “We watched from a distance,” she whispered. “We got an email from your company—we saw your name, your success. We were so proud.”
Claire’s jaw tightened. A slow burn of rage curled in her chest.
“You don’t get to claim pride,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “Why you didn’t call me earlier?”
Her mother reached for her again, but Claire stepped back, her arms folding tightly across her chest.
Her mother dabbed at her eyes, looking smaller now, fragile. “Your father… he wouldn’t let me call you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire inhaled sharply, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She wouldn’t let herself feel sorry for this woman. Not now.
“Where is he?”
Her mother hesitated again. Too long.
“They won’t let visitors in,” she said finally. “It’s… a strict facility.”
Claire’s stomach twisted. Something about this didn’t sit right.
“But if you want to help,” her mother continued, “you can pay through the bank.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
There it was.
Claire swallowed hard, studying the woman in front of her. The tears, the shaky voice—it was a well-practiced performance.
And maybe it was true. Maybe her father really was sick.
But she had learned not to trust words.
She’d come this far.
She’d at least make sure the bills were real.
The bank smelled like paper, stale coffee, and something metallic—maybe the scent of money itself..
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire stepped up to the counter, sliding the paperwork toward the teller, her fingers tapping against the smooth surface.
The woman behind the counter had soft, kind eyes, the type that made people think she was a good listener.
She took the papers, her brow furrowing slightly as she scanned them.
Then, she frowned—a small, almost imperceptible crease forming between her eyebrows.
Claire’s stomach tightened.
The teller glanced up. “This isn’t a hospital account,” she murmured.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire’s breath hitched. “Excuse me?”
The teller hesitated, then turned the screen toward her, tilting it just enough for Claire to see.
“This account isn’t registered to a hospital or medical provider. It’s private. The funds would go to an individual.”
Claire’s blood ran cold.
She blinked at the screen, her mind trying to process what she was hearing.
“That’s… that’s not possible,” she said slowly, but even as she spoke, something deep inside her knew the truth.
The teller shook her head. “No mistake.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire felt her pulse in her throat, hot and pounding. The air around her suddenly felt too thick, pressing in.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Of course. Of course, they would do this.
Without another word, she yanked the paperwork back, spun on her heel, and stormed out of the bank.
By the time she reached her car, her hands were shaking. She jammed the key into the ignition.
The tires screeched against the pavement as she pulled out.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
If they thought they could play her, they had no idea who she’d become.
Claire didn’t knock. She didn’t hesitate.
She shoved the door open, the old hinges groaning as if the house itself protested her return.
The scent of warm cake and cheap vanilla candles filled the air—so ordinary, so out of place.
Her mother gasped, her fork frozen mid-air, a bite of frosting-laced cake trembling at the tip.
Across the table, her father, alive and well, let out a hearty chuckle—until his eyes met hers. His hand, mid-motion, hovered over a half-eaten slice of cake.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Silence wrapped around the room, thick and suffocating.
Claire’s hands clenched at her sides, shaking with rage. “You lied.”
Her father cleared his throat, setting his fork down as if this were any other dinner conversation. “Now, sweetheart—”
“Don’t.” Claire’s voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a knife. Her chest rose and fell, her breath coming faster, hotter.
“I almost wired you thousands. Thought you were dying.” She let out a laugh, bitter and hollow.
“Turns out you’re just broke.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her mother sighed, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin, as if Claire’s fury was nothing more than an inconvenience.
“You owe us.”
Claire blinked. A cold, empty feeling settled in her chest. “Owe you?”
Her father leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, completely unbothered.
“If we hadn’t kicked you out, you wouldn’t be who you are. Your success? That’s because of us.”
Claire’s fingers curled into fists. She looked at them—two strangers who had thrown her away, only to demand a reward when she thrived without them.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No,” she whispered, her voice steady. “I made me.”
Her mother’s expression darkened, her voice dropping into something sharper. “You can’t just walk away.”
Claire’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.
“Watch me.”
She turned, walked out, and let the door slam behind her.
And this time, she wasn’t coming back.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
Leave a Reply