Dennis Rogers, longtime N&O columnist and chronicler of life in NC, dies at 77
Dennis Rogers, who spoke the language of Eastern North Carolina to the hearts of its people as a writer for The News & Observer for more than three decades, died early Saturday after a lengthy illness.
Rogers, 77, was a beloved columnist and committed newspaperman, but was also known as an actor devoted to the craft of local theater and an enthusiastic biker whose first ride was a Harley he bought at age 40.
“I think he was just the essence of North Carolina,” said former Gov. Jim Hunt who, when reached by phone Saturday, recalled opening the paper edition of the N&O and going straight to Rogers’ column. “He knew the old North Carolina, the rural North Carolina, but then lived in our emerging great capital, and yet he spoke for the plain people, the little people. He talked about life and what we ought to be doing.”
Rogers was a great writer, Hunt said, and like great leaders, he said, “Great writers are able to appeal to the common things that move us and make us better people.”
Rogers retired from The News & Observer in 2007 after 31 years at the paper. He started as a reporter and was later tapped to replace a retiring columnist. In an interview for a story about his retirement, Rogers said the only instructions he was given about how to do the job from then-managing editor Bob Brooks were, “Make it about people. And stay east of I-95.”
‘The best there was’
For Rogers, the column was always about the people, whom he met in the barbecue joints, feed stores and Ruritan Club meetings.
“He was the best there was at what he did,” said Jim Jenkins, Rogers’ best friend at the paper, who retired in 2018. “He is the funniest person I ever knew. He was a wonderful friend, a great confidante and the consummate storyteller.
“He knew how to talk to people.”
Jerry Allegood, a 35-year roving state desk reporter for the paper, often rolled into small towns on assignment, introduced himself as being from The N&O and was immediately asked, “Do you know Dennis Rogers?”
Allegood said, “They felt as if they knew him, as if they wanted to have him drop by for a visit. Of course, he sort of did that with his columns. He will be missed and mourned in a lot of homes he never personally visited.”
Allegood recalled the story of Rogers’ pursuit of a college degree. He flunked out the first time after three semesters at what is now Barton College in Wilson. He left and joined the Army, then got into UNC as a “high-risk” student, succeeding against all odds.
“He was a college graduate but didn’t mock those who weren’t,” Allegood said. “He didn’t mock others or try to ingratiate himself by being something he wasn’t.”
The last of his kind
Rogers was born in Norfolk, Virginia, to Daisy and Earl Rogers. His mother died when he was a toddler and his dad, a troubled World War II vet, also died too young. He was raised by a grandmother in Wilson who at times struggled to put food on the table.
Looking back in his career, Rogers said when he retired that he had worked most of his life in fear that at any moment, people would figure out he had no idea what he was doing. He expected to be fired at any time.
“I may be the last of the dirt-street, tobacco-field, blue-collar kids who grew up to do something like this,” he said in 2007, questioning whether The N&O or any major paper would have hired him then.
Rogers bought his first motorcycle at age 40, and went straight for the big bike, a tricked-out Harley Davidson that might have looked too big for Rogers, who was wiry as Barney Fife.
He and his friend Randy Scherr of Raleigh rode thousands of miles together, including seven or eight Memorial Day “Run for the Wall” rides to the annual rally at the national Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington.
Scherr said he and Rogers were good companions because their views on politics were generally left of those of most of those at bike events.
Even so, he said, Rogers was respected by other bikers because he used his column to humanize them and to push for motorcycle safety in a way that didn’t upset riders or car drivers.
“He softened our edge, made us less vagabond,” Scherr said.
Stealing the show on stage
Becky Johnston first met Rogers when they were both in Raleigh Little Theatre’s production of “Shenandoah” in 1979. He played a traveling salesman.
”He really enjoyed the small, delicious roles,” she said, the ones where, “You could do your prep for your little small part and go out and steal the show.”
Rogers was a wonderful actor, Johnston said, and he won nearly as many awards for his stage work as for his column writing.
”He was just smart,” Johnston said. She finally played opposite him in 2004 where they were husband and wife in “Morning’s at Seven,” and said she marveled at the way he brought a character to life.
”He just gave you so much to work with, he made other people better in their roles.”
A welcome presence in public
Rogers died at home in Garner with his wife, HollyAnn Nye Rogers, and his daughter, Denise, at his side and his adored dog, Gypsy, at his feet.
Arrangements will be handled by Bryan-Lee Funeral Home in Garner. The family will hold a pig-picking to celebrate his life next spring.
Long after he retired and started spending more time acting for Raleigh Little Theater, riding his motorcycle and taking cross-country RV trips with HollyAnn, a Rogers appearance in public still caused a stir.
Once, Jenkins recalled, he and Rogers and others were leaving after having lunch together, and when they got to the parking lot, a woman — a reader — came over to Rogers and said, “We sure do miss you.”
We sure do.
This story was originally published August 8, 2020 at 2:29 PM.
