Linda Gray became a household name thanks to her role as Sue Ellen Ewing on the beloved soap opera Dallas. Over the course of more than 300 episodes, she not only showcased her incredible talent but also faced numerous personal challenges along the way. Today, at 84 years old, Gray continues to shine.
Throughout the history of film and television, we have witnessed remarkable performances by countless actors. Some portrayals resonate so deeply that it’s hard to imagine anyone else in the role. For instance, who could envision Little House on the Prairie without Michael Landon as Charles Ingalls or Mary Poppins without Dick Van Dyke as Bert? Similarly, Linda Gray’s portrayal of Sue Ellen is irreplaceable, and fans of the show are grateful she was cast in such a pivotal role.
Gray’s life has been nothing short of extraordinary, resembling a roller coaster filled with ups and downs. She has confronted life-threatening illnesses, addiction, and a challenging marriage. Despite these adversities, she has always emerged stronger, committed to making the most of her life and career.
Starring alongside Larry Hagman and Patrick Duffy on Dallas, Gray recently opened up about her experiences working with Hagman and the dynamic chemistry they shared on set.
Born on September 12, 1940, in Santa Monica, California, Gray faced a significant challenge in her childhood when she was diagnosed with polio. Her grandfather had also contracted the virus, leaving her family in distress. However, Linda maintained a surprisingly optimistic outlook during her own diagnosis. “They didn’t know what it was when he was 17, and he was always in a wheelchair”, she recalled. “When I was diagnosed, everyone went crazy in my family, but I wasn’t. I thought I could have a wheelchair like Grandpa.”
Growing up in Culver City, California, where her father owned a watchmaker shop, Linda was drawn to the performing arts from a young age. She often entertained her neighbors and even starred as Cinderella in a school production at Notre Dame Academy in Los Angeles.
While her father provided a stable presence, he was emotionally distant. As Gray noted in her 2015 memoir, The Road to Happiness Is Always Under Construction, “He was just kind of there, like a piece of furniture”, and emotional discussions were off-limits. In contrast, her mother, Marge, a former artist and ballerina, struggled with alcoholism, leaving Linda and her sister to take charge of the household. “She wasn’t mean, she was just blurred, in her own world”, Gray wrote. This upbringing inspired Linda to pursue a different path, determined to avoid her mother’s fate.
With dreams of a career in medicine initially, Gray soon shifted her focus to acting, influenced by the Hollywood landscape surrounding her. She spent her teenage years modeling for various companies and airlines.
At 21, Linda married photographer Edward Lee Thrasher, but the marriage became a struggle. Her aspirations took a backseat as she became a wife and mother, welcoming son Jeff in 1960 and daughter Kehly six years later. Linda felt emotionally neglected, describing the marriage as “cold” and ultimately deciding to leave after 21 years.
Despite her husband’s disapproval of her pursuing acting, Gray took the plunge and began landing television commercials. She had minor roles in films like Under the Yum Yum Tree and Palm Springs Weekend but hit the jackpot when, at 27, she became Anne Bancroft’s body double for The Graduate poster (1967). Ironically, she later portrayed Mrs. Robinson in a 2001 stage adaptation of the same film.
In her memoir, Gray also shared a humorous rejection letter from Glamour magazine she received in the early 1960s, which she kept as a reminder of resilience. “It kicked me from behind, and made me want to go and do something”, she said.
Though she loved motherhood, the lack of a fulfilling career frustrated her. When she finally enrolled in acting classes, her husband dismissed the idea, suggesting she wait until their children were older. At 37, she forged ahead and trained alongside younger actors. It wasn’t long before she secured her first significant role as a guest star on Marcus Welby, M.D. in 1974.
The turning point came in 1978 when Gray was cast as Sue Ellen Ewing on Dallas. Initially meant to be a recurring role for just five episodes, her performance resonated with audiences and critics alike, leading to her becoming a series regular and turning her into a star.
Dallas, set against the backdrop of family rivalry and scandal at Southfork Ranch, showcased Gray’s exceptional talent. Her chemistry with Larry Hagman was palpable, but she clarified that it stemmed from a sibling-like bond. “He was the bad big brother that I never had”, she explained. Their dynamic translated beautifully on-screen, captivating both the network executives and viewers alike.
The show broke numerous viewing records, becoming one of the most-watched television series in history. The iconic episode revealing who shot J.R. Ewing drew an estimated 80 million viewers, a record that stood until surpassed by MASH*.
For her role, Gray received two Golden Globe nominations and an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Lead Actress. After divorcing Ed Thrasher in 1983, her son Jeff pursued a career in directing and earned an Emmy nomination in 2018. Tragically, he passed away in 2020 after battling leukemia. Gray honored him on Instagram, celebrating his life and the love he shared with those around him.
Throughout her tenure on Dallas, Gray appeared in 308 episodes. Following the show’s conclusion, she continued to work in television and reprised her role as Sue Ellen in the 2012 revival of Dallas, which aired for two seasons. She received a Special Award at the 2014 USA Film Festival, further cementing her legacy.
Now, at 84, Linda Gray remains as stunning as ever. She has navigated many challenges, from her childhood struggles to her difficult marriage and the loss of her son. Through it all, she has learned to transform adversity into resilience.
We admire her strength and wish her continued success in the years to come! Feel free to share this inspiring story with your family and friends.
After I restored the motorcycle my father had gifted me, he took it back — so I found a way to get my revenge
I caught them effortlessly, but I was confused.
“What’s this for?” I asked. They didn’t look like car keys, and I already had my mom’s old car anyway.
My dad nodded toward a dusty tarp in the corner of the garage. It had been there for as long as I could remember, covering up something that I was told not to touch.
When I pulled the tarp off, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was my dad’s old Harley, a ’73 Shovelhead. It was the stuff of my childhood dreams, the bike that had always seemed just out of reach.
All I had wanted to do when I was younger was steal my dad’s leather jacket and sit on the motorcycle. But he always shouted at me whenever I tried to touch it.
“If there’s one scratch on it, Seth,” he would say, “I’ll take all your spending money away.”
That was enough to keep me away from the dream bike.
“You’re giving me the Harley?” I asked, my voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.
My father shrugged it off like it was nothing.
“Yeah, why not, son?” he declared. “It hasn’t run in years, to be honest, so good luck with that. Consider it a late birthday gift, Seth.”
I could barely believe it.
I was finally going to ride that bike, and feel the engine roaring beneath me, the wind in my hair. It was going to be everything I had dreamt of and more. I was finally going to be like my dad.
I ran my hand over the cracked leather seat, taking in the gift.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
The moment those keys were in my hand, that motorcycle became my new obsession.
“Jeez, son,” the mechanic said when I took the Harley over in a friend’s old pickup truck. “There’s a lot to be done here. But I can do the big things for you, and you’ll be able to sort out the smaller things if you’re confident enough.”
I saved every penny from my barista role at the café. I was extra polite to all my customers, hoping for large tips, ready to go straight into the motorcycle restoration fund.
Soon, my nights, weekends, and any and all free time I had were spent outside with the motorcycle. I tore it down and put it back together, better than ever, restoring old parts. I watched countless YouTube tutorials and read every manual I could find.
“What are you doing now?” my roommate, Brett, asked when I was hunched over my laptop on the couch.
“I’m looking at forums online for tips about the motorcycle,” I said.
“That’s all you do these days, buddy,” he said, chuckling.
Fourteen months later, the day finally came. I polished the last piece of chrome, stood back, and admired my work. The Harley gleamed under the garage lights, looking like it had just rolled off the assembly line.
“Good job, Seth,” I muttered to myself.
I could hardly contain my excitement as I thought about showing it to my parents, especially my dad. I imagined the pride on his face, the way his eyes would light up when he saw what I’d done.
I hoped that he would finally be proud of something I had done. But nothing prepared me for what was to come next.
I rode it over to my parents’ house, the engine purring beneath my legs like a big cat. As I parked in the driveway, I felt a rush of nerves. I hadn’t felt this anxious since I was waiting for my acceptance letter for college.
“Mom? Dad?” I called, walking into the hallway.
“We’re in the kitchen,” my mom called.
I walked into the kitchen, and there they were. My dad was drinking a cup of tea, and Mom was busy putting together a lasagna.
“I’ve got something to show you!” I said. “It’s outside.”
They followed me outside, their eyes going wide when they saw the motorcycle.
“Oh my gosh, Seth,” my dad exclaimed. “Is that the Harley? My old Harley? She looks beautiful!”
“Yes,” I said, grinning. “I’ve spent the last year working on it. What do you think?”
Before they could answer, my dad moved closer to the motorcycle. His eyes narrowed as he took it in. He ran his hands along the chrome as though he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“You did all this?” he asked, his voice tight.
“I did!” I said, beaming proudly. “Every spare moment and extra cash went into this project. And now she’s perfect.”
For a second, I thought I saw pride flicker in his eyes, but then his expression changed. His face darkened, and I felt something change in me.
“You know, Seth,” he said slowly, “this bike is worth a hell of a lot more now. I think I was too generous when I gave it to you.”
I blinked, not understanding.
“What do you mean, Dad?”
My father cleared his throat, not meeting my eyes.
“I’m going to take it back,” he said, his tone final. “And I’ll give you $1,000 for your trouble.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, barely containing my anger.
He nodded.
“It’s only fair, Seth.”
I wanted to yell, to tell him how unfair he was being, how much time and money I’d poured into that bike. But I knew that arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere. My father was too stubborn.
“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you think is fair.”
He looked surprised that I didn’t fight him on it, but I wasn’t done with my revenge. If he wanted to play dirty, then fine. I could play that game too. I just needed to be smarter about it.
A few days later, I saw my father posting on social media about his “newly restored” motorcycle and that he was taking the Harley to an upcoming bike meet with his old biking buddies.
“Now it’s on,” I said to myself.
When the day of the meet arrived, I watched from a distance as my father rolled up on the Harley, looking every bit the proud owner of a beautiful bike. He revved the engine, drawing the attention of everyone in the parking lot.
But what he didn’t know was that I’d made a little modification of my own.
Under the seat, I’d installed a small switch—it was nothing fancy. But it was a precaution in case the Harley was ever stolen. The switch, when accessed, would cut off the fuel line with a quick flick of the remote, which was firmly planted in my hand.
I waited until he was right in the middle of the crowd, basking in the admiration, and then, from a distance, I pressed the button.
The Harley sputtered, the engine dying with a weak cough. Soon, my father’s smug grin disappeared as he tried to restart it, but the engine wouldn’t give.
The murmurs began, making their way through the crowd, and a few of his buddies laughed under their breath.
“Need a hand, Dad?” I asked when I made my way over to him.
He glared at me, but I could see the desperation in his eyes. He nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. I knelt down, pretending to fiddle with the bike for a moment before “fixing” the problem by turning off the switch.
The engine roared back to life, but by then, the damage was done.
The look of embarrassment on my dad’s face was worth every second of the work I had put into the Harley.
He handed me the keys, his jaw clenched tightly.
“It’s yours,” he said, walking away.
I smiled, knowing the Harley was mine, and so was my father’s respect, even if he couldn’t say it.
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