The world mourns the loss of the oldest known conjoined twins, Lori and George Schappell, who both passed away at the age of 62 in their Pennsylvania hometown.
Born on September 18, 1961, in Reading, Pennsylvania, Lori and George shared a rare connection, being conjoined at the skull while having separate bodies. They were linked by 30% of their brains and essential blood vessels.
Their incredible life journey came to a close on April 7 at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia, as noted in their obituary. The specific cause of their passing has not been revealed.
George, who lived with spina bifida, used a mobility device for assistance, while Lori facilitated their movements by pushing and guiding his rolling stool. Their form of conjoined twins is exceptionally rare, affecting only about 2% to 6% of cases of congenital twins, according to NBC Today.
In a landmark moment for their lives, George transitioned in 2007, making them the first same-sex conjoined twins to identify as different genders, as recognized by Guinness World Records. During their trip to London in 2011 to celebrate their 50th birthday, George shared insights about his journey with The Sun, stating: “I knew from a very young age that I was supposed to be a boy”.
Both Lori and George completed their education at the Hiram G. Andrews Center and later worked at Reading Hospital. Despite their physical connection, they each pursued their own passions and hobbies. George followed his love for music as a country singer, captivating audiences globally, while Lori thrived as an accomplished bowler.
Remarkably, the Schappells enjoyed an independent lifestyle since turning 24. Initially, they lived in a care facility, then transitioned to a two-bedroom apartment where they each had their own space. They highlighted the significance of privacy, emphasizing that even with their physical bond, they found ways to enjoy solitude when needed
“Would we ever separate? Absolutely not”, George stated in a 1997 documentary: “My theory is, why fix what isn’t broken?”
Lori echoed this sentiment in a 2002 interview with the Los Angeles Times, saying: “I don’t believe in separation”. Our heartfelt condolences go out to the family and friends of Lori and George during this challenging time.
I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN’T GET AN INVITE TO MY CLOSE FRIEND’S WEDDING — WHEN I CRASHED IT, I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD WHY.
The air in the elegant ballroom hung heavy with the scent of lilies and unspoken words. Guests, dressed in their finest attire, buzzed with excitement, their conversations a low hum against the backdrop of soft music. I stood frozen at the entrance, an invisible ghost amidst the throng of well-wishers.
My name was Sarah, and I was crashing my best friend’s wedding.
It had all started with a casual conversation. “So, have you heard?” my friend, Emily, had gushed, her eyes sparkling. “Amber and Ben are getting married!”
“Amber? Oh my god, that’s wonderful!” I’d exclaimed, feigning excitement. But a seed of doubt had been planted.
Weeks passed, and invitations arrived for everyone I knew – everyone except me. I tried to convince myself it was an oversight, a simple mistake. Maybe the invitation had gotten lost in the mail. Maybe Amber was planning a special surprise for me. But as the wedding date drew closer, my hopes dwindled.
The day of the wedding arrived, and I found myself inexplicably drawn to the venue, a grand old mansion overlooking the lake. Dressed in a simple black dress, I slipped in unnoticed, blending into the crowd of elegantly dressed guests.
The room fell silent as I made my way through the throng of people. Whispers followed me, a hushed murmur of disbelief and pity. I felt eyes boring into me, judging, analyzing. I had never felt so alone, so utterly invisible.
Then, I saw her. Amber. Standing at the altar, her face radiant, her eyes sparkling with happiness. But the moment our eyes met, the joy in her eyes vanished, replaced by a look of sheer terror.
And then I saw him. Her groom.
My breath hitched. It was David. My ex-boyfriend.
The memories came flooding back – stolen kisses, late-night conversations, promises whispered in the dark. David, with his charming smile and his infectious laughter, had been my first love. We had been inseparable, until he abruptly ended our relationship, citing a need to “find himself.”
The betrayal, the hurt, the shattered pieces of my heart – it all came rushing back. So this was why she hadn’t invited me. She had been afraid I would ruin her wedding, would expose their secret, would remind everyone of the man who had broken my heart.
The room seemed to spin. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, the festive atmosphere suddenly suffocating. I turned and fled, disappearing into the night, the sound of their wedding vows echoing in my ears, a cruel reminder of the love I had lost, the trust I had betrayed.
As I walked away, I vowed to never forgive them. Never to forgive Amber for her betrayal, for the way she had used me, for the pain she had inflicted. And never to forgive David for the hurt he had caused, for the way he had shattered my heart and then moved on, without a single backward glance.
The night air was cold and unforgiving, a reflection of the icy pain that had gripped my heart. But as I walked, I knew that I would heal. I would learn to forgive, not for their sake, but for my own. I would move on, stronger, wiser, and more cautious. And I would never again allow myself to be blindsided by the betrayal of those I trusted.
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