Bobby Sherman was one of the biggest music stars during the 1960s and 1970s. Back then, it seemed like everyone had a crush on him.
He released several albums, became a well-known actor, performed for thousands of fans, and sold millions of records. But even with all his success, Sherman made the surprising decision to leave show business for good while he was still famous.
It wasn’t because he felt like he wasn’t talented anymore. Instead, he left for a bigger purpose—he wanted to save lives.
Here’s everything you need to know about the legendary Bobby Sherman!
Bobby Sherman was born on July 22, 1943, in Santa Monica, California, and grew up in Van Nuys, near Los Angeles.
**Bobby Sherman – Early Life**
By the time he was 11, Sherman had learned to play the trumpet and later mastered other instruments like the piano, trombone, and guitar. He attended Birmingham High School, where he joined a band and developed a strong interest in singing. Over the years, Sherman reportedly learned to play an impressive 16 instruments.
After graduating high school in 1961, he began studying at Pierce College in Woodland Hills, near Los Angeles. It was during this time that a relationship changed his life forever.
Sherman was studying child psychology at Pierce College when he met his first girlfriend. One night, she invited him to a cast party for *The Greatest Story Ever Told*.
By then, Sherman had already started performing music with different bands around the San Fernando Valley, and many people recognized his talent. At the party, Sherman didn’t hesitate to showcase his voice.
“I was always the guy who had the gumption to get up and sing in front of people,” he later said.
At the Hollywood party, Bobby Sherman had some friends playing in the band on stage, which made it easier for him to get up and sing. He performed Ray Charles’ “What I’d Say” in front of the crowd.
**Discovered at a Hollywood Party**
Since it was a Hollywood party, many famous people from the entertainment industry were there, including stars like Sal Mineo, Natalie Wood, and Jane Fonda.
After his performance, they recognized his talent. Sal Mineo, especially, took notice and decided to mentor him.
“People were saying things like, ‘Who’s handling you?’ I had no idea what that meant,” Sherman recalled.
“Well, I was just a kid from Van Nuys, and I was like, ‘What do they mean, handling me?’ Then I realized they were talking about representation.”
Sherman quickly got a taste of Hollywood life. Just three days later, an agent—who had heard about him from one of the party guests—sent him to an audition. It was for a new television show called *Shindig*, and Bobby landed a featured role.
His time on *Shindig* lasted only two years, but that was enough to get him noticed. By then, people across the country had fallen in love with him, and job offers started pouring in.
When *Shindig* was canceled in 1966, Bobby Sherman guest-starred on several other shows, including *The Monkees*, *Honey West*, and *The FBI*. He was starting to become a heartthrob in Hollywood, but it was in 1968 that he really made it big.
**Bobby Sherman – Music, Songs, Albums, Acting**
Sherman played the stuttering character Jason Bolt in *Here Come The Brides*, staying on the show for two full years. By the end of his time on the show, his character had lost his stutter, but the show was eventually canceled.
Jason Bolt became very popular with fans, and Sherman realized this during a telethon in Buffalo. Suddenly, he wasn’t just a rising star; he had become famous.
“The show had just started, and we didn’t even have any records out yet,” Sherman told *Tulsa World*.
“Greg Morris from *Mission: Impossible* and Robert Brown from *Here Come The Brides* and I were asked to do the telethon. It was going really well when the fire marshal came in and said, ‘We have a problem. You need to come up to the second floor; you have to greet some people.’
“They opened up a window, and I looked out to see the parking lot of the TV station filled with people. It was a sea of faces,” he recalled. “It was just unbelievable. That was when I realized something big was happening.”
The following year was a bit of a “limbo” for Bobby. However, it was during this time that he began focusing on writing songs and experimenting with his eight-track recording equipment.
Bobby Sherman became a professional singer, even though he hadn’t received much recognition for his voice yet.
**Bobby Sherman – Family, Wife, Children**
From 1969 to 1971, Sherman’s young fans bought millions of his recordings. He released popular singles like “Little Woman,” “Easy Come, Easy Go,” and “Julie, Do Ya Love Me.” He sold over a million copies of six different singles and four different albums.
“A song begins with an idea – one line,” he explained in 1971. “I build that into a complete lyric. Then, I fit the music around it.”
Sherman starred in a television series called *Getting Together*, a spinoff of *The Partridge Family*, about two songwriters, from 1970 to 1971. He also appeared in several guest roles after that.
At the same time as his rise to fame, he married his first wife, Patti Carnel, in 1971. Together, they had two sons, Christopher and Tyler.
Sherman wanted his kids to have a great place to grow up, so he decided to build a miniature model of Disneyland’s Main Street in his backyard. The project cost him about $15,000 and took around two and a half years to complete.
Not everyone was happy with Bobby Sherman’s Disneyland project; his wife was reportedly annoyed by the constant noise of hammers.
**”I Didn’t Know What Home Was”**
“At one point, she said, ‘If you don’t finish it, I’ll kill you,’” Sherman joked in an interview with *People*.
Bobby’s children not only inspired him to build his own piece of Disneyland but also became the motivation for his new career. He became a major teen heartthrob before stars like Shaun Cassidy and David Cassidy. Eventually, he was “replaced” by performers like Donny Osmond.
At the height of his career, Sherman starred in hit television series while also releasing popular singles, gaining adoration from millions of fans. His albums *Sixteen* and *Tiger Beat* became two of his most cherished works.
Even though he was living out his dream, Sherman explained that he often filmed five days a week and had evening shows on weekends. This busy schedule took a toll on him. “It was so hectic for three years that I didn’t know what home was,” he told the *Washington Post*.
“I was disoriented; I never knew where I was. I always had to be reminded. But, in all honesty, I must say I had the best of times because the concerts were great, and the fans were great. It was the proverbial love-in, but it just zapped so much out of me.”
**Bobby Sherman Left Music to Save Lives**
Then, in the middle of his celebrity status, Bobby suddenly decided to switch careers to a very important one. He chose to leave his music and television career to save lives.
Sherman was very involved in raising his children, and his then-wife Patti was afraid of blood. As anyone who has raised kids knows, accidents happen often, and Christopher and Tyler would sometimes fall and get hurt.
These falls sometimes caused bloody knees and other minor scrapes. Wanting to handle these situations better, Sherman decided to take some classes. He first took an introductory first aid and CPR class and later volunteered as an emergency medical technician.
“The very first call, I saved a little 5-year-old girl’s life. I thought, ‘Yeah, that’s the most incredible feeling,’” Bobby recalled in a 1994 interview.
Little Girl is Caught Stealing, but When the Cashier Learns Why, She Makes an Unthinkable Decision — Story of the Day
Claire never expected a simple theft to shake her to the core—until she caught a child sneaking out with a sandwich. But when she saw the tiny candle flicker on top, heard the whispered birthday song, her heart ached. This wasn’t just shoplifting. It was survival. And Claire had a choice to make.
I stood behind the counter at Willow’s Market, the small corner store where I had worked for the past four years.
The scent of fresh bread lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of cinnamon from the bakery section.
It was a comforting smell, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold morning. The store had that effect—cozy, familiar, a little worn around the edges but full of heart.
I ran my fingers along the edge of a shelf, straightening the jars of homemade jam. Every item had its place, and I made sure of it.
Keeping the store neat wasn’t just part of the job; it was my way of showing I cared.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Beside the register, I had placed a small box filled with handwritten notes—each one carrying a simple kind wish for the customers.
Little things like, “Hope today brings you something good” or “You’re stronger than you think.”
Some people ignored them, some smiled politely, and a few—especially the older customers—tucked them into their pockets like tiny treasures.
It was something small, but it made people smile. And that mattered to me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Just as I finished organizing the checkout area, the front door swung open sharply, making the hanging bells jingle too hard.
The sudden noise sent a jolt through me.
Logan.
I sighed internally.
Logan was the son of the store’s owner, Richard, and he had zero interest in keeping the store alive.
He wanted something more profitable—a liquor store, maybe, or a vape shop.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Something that would bring in fast cash, not the slow, steady kind of business his father had built over the years.
But Richard had refused, saying the community needed a place like Willow’s Market. And Logan? Well, he didn’t take no very well.
Logan sneered as he scanned the store, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive coat.
It was too nice for a place like this—black wool, probably designer, the kind of thing that didn’t belong near dusty shelves and wooden counters.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“How’s it going, Claire?” His voice was casual, but there was something sharp beneath it, like a blade hidden under silk.
I straightened, forcing a polite tone. “We’re doing well. I opened early today to get everything ready.”
His sharp blue eyes flicked toward the counter. Right at my box of notes.
He reached for one, lifting it with two fingers as if it were something dirty.
“What the hell is this?” he scoffed, reading aloud. “Enjoy the little things? What kind of sentimental garbage is this?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, he tossed the note onto the floor and, with one careless sweep of his arm, knocked over the entire box.
The papers fluttered like wounded birds, scattering across the wooden floor.
My stomach tightened.
I knelt quickly, gathering them up with careful hands. “It’s just something nice for customers,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“This is a business,” Logan snapped.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Not a therapy session. If you wanna play philosopher, do it somewhere else. This store already isn’t making much money.”
His words hit like a slap, but I refused to react.
“It’s your father’s store,” I reminded him, standing up, my fingers curling around the handful of notes I had managed to pick up.
His jaw ticked. “For now,” he muttered, voice lower this time. Then he leaned in, just enough for me to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“And you work here for now,” he added, his voice dripping with warning. “One more mistake, Claire, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
His words sat heavy in the air between us, thick with meaning. He wasn’t just talking about my notes.
Then, just like that, he turned and left. The bell above the door clanged behind him, the sound sharp and jarring.
I stood there, my heart pounding, watching the scattered notes on the floor.
I had spent time writing each one, hoping they might bring someone a moment of comfort. But in the end, they were just paper to him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, willing my hands to stop shaking.
Then, slowly, I knelt back down and started picking them up again.
Later that afternoon, I stood behind the register, absently smoothing my apron as I watched Mrs.
Thompson count out coins with careful fingers. She was one of our regulars, always buying the same things—fresh bread and a small packet of tea.
The store was quiet, the golden afternoon light slanting through the front windows. Outside, cars rolled by lazily, and a few people walked past, chatting about their day.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Thompson finally gathered the right amount and placed the small stack of coins on the counter with a satisfied nod.
“You know, dear,” she said, looking up at me with her warm, wrinkled smile, “this store is the best thing in the neighborhood. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”
Her words eased something tight in my chest. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been since Logan’s visit. His voice still echoed in my head, sharp and full of warning.
“One more mistake, Claire, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
I forced a smile. “That means a lot, Mrs. Thompson. Really.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She patted my hand with the softness only age could bring. “Don’t let that boy get to you,” she said knowingly.
Before I could respond, movement near the sandwich shelf caught my eye. A small figure in an oversized hoodie hovered there, their head ducked low, fingers twitching at their sides.
Something about the way they moved—too hesitant, too jumpy—made my stomach tighten.
I glanced back at Mrs. Thompson. She was tucking her tea into her purse, humming to herself.
I turned back to the hooded figure.
“Excuse me!” I called, stepping out from behind the register. “Can I help you find something?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The kid’s head snapped up, and for a split second, wide brown eyes locked onto mine. Then—
They bolted.
In one swift movement, they spun toward the door, their sneakers skidding slightly on the worn floorboards.
A small shape vanished into their pocket as they pushed past the door, setting the hanging bells into a frantic jingle.
My stomach dropped.
I glanced at Mrs. Thompson. “Watch the register for a second?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She barely hesitated before waving me off. “Go, dear!” She clutched her purse like she was preparing to defend the store herself.
I ran outside, my heart hammering as I scanned the busy sidewalk. The kid was fast—too fast.
Weaving through the crowd, dodging between people, slipping around corners like they’d done this before.
I almost lost them. Almost.
Then, a voice called out.
“Ran that way, five minutes ago.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I turned. A homeless man sat on a newspaper, pointing lazily down a side street.
I nodded in thanks and hurried forward, following his direction.
And then—I saw her.
The kid had stopped behind an abandoned alley, far from the main street. The oversized hoodie swallowed her small frame, making her look even younger.
I slowed my steps, pressing myself against the brick wall at the alley’s entrance, watching.
She pulled something from her pocket.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
A wrapped sandwich.
From the other pocket, she retrieved a tiny candle and a lighter.
My breath caught.
She unwrapped the sandwich with careful hands, smoothing the paper flat like it was something precious. Then, she stuck the small candle into the soft bread and flicked the lighter on.
A tiny flame flickered to life.
And then, she sang.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Happy birthday to me… Happy birthday to me…”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through me like a knife.
She smiled—just a little—then took a deep breath and blew out the candle.
I stepped forward before I could think twice.
The girl froze.
Her big brown eyes filled with fear as she took a quick step back, her hands clenching at her sides.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, already inching away like a cornered animal.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I knelt down, making sure my voice was gentle. “You don’t have to run.”
Her lips trembled.
“You’re not mad?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “I just wish you didn’t have to steal a sandwich for your own birthday.”
For the first time, something in her cracked. The tough shell, the instinct to fight or flee—it slipped, just for a second.
I held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to the store. We’ll get you something to eat. No stealing required.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated.
Then, to my surprise, she reached out and took my hand.
Back at the store, Logan was waiting for me.
The moment I stepped through the door, his voice hit me like a whip.
“Where the hell were you?” he barked. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, impatience rolling off him in waves.
I tightened my grip on Katie’s small, trembling hand. She shrank slightly behind me, her fingers curling around mine like a lifeline.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“A child took something,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I went after her.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.
“So let me get this straight,” he said slowly, stepping forward, his boots clicking against the wooden floor.
“You left the register. Chased down a thief. And instead of calling the police, you brought her back here?”
“She’s not a thief,” I shot back. “She’s a hungry kid.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t care if she’s a saint. She stole from the store.”
I saw it then—the way his hand hovered near his pocket, his fingers twitching. He was reaching for his phone.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My stomach clenched.
“I’m calling the cops,” he said, his voice dripping with finality. “They’ll take her to an orphanage. That’s where kids like this end up.”
Beside me, Katie flinched. I felt her grip tighten like she was bracing for something awful.
I stepped forward without thinking. “Logan, don’t. Please.”
He smirked, tilting his head. “Why not? You care about your job, don’t you?”
His words hung heavy in the air, daring me to argue.
I swallowed hard. My pulse pounded in my ears.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll quit if you don’t call the police,” I said.
For the first time, Logan hesitated.
He blinked. “What?”
“You want me gone, right?” My voice was even, but inside, my heart was racing. “If I walk away now, you get what you want. Just don’t call.”
Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable—maybe shock, maybe amusement. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smug grin.
“Fine,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Pack your things.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, glancing down at Katie. Her wide brown eyes looked up at me, searching for reassurance.
I squeezed her hand.
“Let’s go,” I said.
The next morning, I walked into Richard’s office with a heavy heart. Richard was always kind to me, an owner of the store I looked up to. The folded resignation letter in my hand felt like a brick. I had spent four years at Willow’s Market, and now, it was over.
Richard sat at his desk, the morning light casting long shadows across the wooden surface. He was reading over some invoices, his glasses perched low on his nose.
I cleared my throat and placed the envelope in front of him. “Richard, I—”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But before I could explain, he lifted a hand to stop me.
“Mrs. Thompson told me everything,” he said.
I froze.
My pulse quickened as I searched his face, expecting disappointment, maybe even anger. But instead, there was something softer—understanding.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Logan was supposed to take over this place one day… but after what he did?” He shook his head. “I don’t want someone like him running this store.”
I stared at him, my breath catching. “Then… who will?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Richard smiled.
“You.”
I almost dropped my coffee.
“Me?” My voice came out in a whisper.
“You’re not just a cashier, Claire,” he said gently. “You’re the heart of this store.”
Tears burned my eyes.
I had lost a job.
But somehow, I had gained a future.
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