Pat Boone was a huge star in the 1950s and 60s, loved by fans everywhere.
In his long career, he did many things like writing songs, acting, writing books, and speaking to inspire people. He’s even written a book about faith called “If.”
Pat got married to Shirley Lee Foley when he was only 19. Shirley was the daughter of Red Foley, a famous country music singer.
One year after starting his music career, Pat Boone became famous with his hit song “Ain’t That a Shame,” which was originally by Fats Domino. In 1956, he had a song that reached number one on the charts, and only Elvis Presley was more popular at the time.
When he was just 23, he had his own TV show called The Pat Boone Chevy Showroom. It was on ABC and aired every week for 115 episodes until 1960.
“I was the youngest person ever to have my own music show on a big TV network, at 22 years old,” Boone said in an interview with Closer magazine.
Pat Boone’s career kept getting better and better. He became one of the most famous singers in America and also acted in movies like Journey to the Center of the Earth, State Fair, and The Greatest Story Ever Told, among others.
All the while, his wife Shirley was there, supporting him. She took care of their four daughters and also worked as an actress and assistant director.
They were married for 65 years until Shirley passed away at 84. She died because of complications from vasculitis, which is a group of disorders that damage blood vessels.
“Being married to one person for 65 years isn’t common in this wild industry,” Pat Boone shared with The Christian Post. “My wife Shirley passed away last year, and now I’m alone.”
Pat Boone still lives in the house they shared for many years and doesn’t plan to move. But he says he feels the sadness of losing his wife.
“I live here alone with a housekeeper and my dog, a little cocker spaniel named Shadow,” Pat Boone shared with Closer Weekly. “It’s just me and Shadow, feeling a bit lonely. But I’m okay. I miss Shirley.”
After his wife Shirley passed away, Pat told People magazine, “We had a wonderful life together for 65 years. She’s moved on to another place, but we’ll be together again one day.”
The love and devotion that these two shared is both beautiful and inspirational. Rest in peace Shirley.
Please share with all the Pat Boone fans you know.
My Rich Husband Forbade Me from Entering One Room in Our House – I Could Not Stop Crying When I Saw What He Was Hiding
When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.
“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”
I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.
“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”
In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.
“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.
Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.
Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.
My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.
“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.
That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.
Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.
He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”
“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.
I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.
“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”
I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.
A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.
Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.
A quick in and out, I thought to myself.
Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.
The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.
“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”
Robert’s face turned red with rage.
“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”
Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.
“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”
Robert led me to the living room.
“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.
My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.
What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.
In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.
In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.
Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.
We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.
Leave a Reply