Doctor Says Rogers Probably Died of a Drug Overdose : Family That Was to Be Celebrating Is Battered by Tragedy

I have a very nice family. I’m lucky there. . . . It was my mother who taught me to be a little gentleman. --Don Rogers, September, 1983

On the day after her little gentleman died, the day that was to be his wedding day, Loretha Rogers suffered a heart attack and was taken to Community Hospital.

Her status improved from critical at the time that she went in, at about 2 p.m., to serious but stable later Saturday night.

That has been about the only relief for the family that was supposed to be celebrating Don Rogers’ wedding.

Saturday was a beautiful day for a wedding. A warm, June day, not a cloud to mar a bright blue sky.

Friends and family gathered at his mother’s new home on Pebblewood Drive, their cars filling the driveway and lining the curb for a block. Across the street, three television stations had cameras mounted on tripods, with reporters standing by.

Don Rogers was a celebrity, a former UCLA All-American, a star of two Rose Bowl games and a Pro Bowl defensive back for the Cleveland Browns of the National Football League.

His wedding might warrant this kind of attention. But this was different. The mood was all wrong. Faces were long, and silence weighed heavily in the air.

Reporters and passers-by shook their heads over the tragedy being suffered behind the closed doors and curtained windows.

The tragedy was felt, too, in the hot, bright reality of noonday on Pebblewood Drive.

Incredibly, Don Rogers was dead. A strong, healthy, vibrant 23-year-old athlete had died suddenly, mysteriously, Friday afternoon, the day after his bachelor party.

It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem possible. There would be no wedding. The friends and relatives who came here for Rogers’ wedding would now stay for his funeral.

Just when that funeral will take place has not yet been decided. The woman who will have to make those plans was sequestered inside the house, under sedation, for most of the day, before she was overwhelmed by her grief.

After months of happy anticipation, the mother of the groom finds herself not presiding over a celebration but trying to deal with her own health and with the funeral of her oldest son, the football star who took her out of their Del Paso Heights neighborhood, bought her a new house in South Natomas and made her so proud.

At the Sacramento Hilton, site of his last party, the gift shop sold copies of the Sacramento Bee with a front-page banner headline that read, “Football star dies on eve of wedding.” Reporters had no trouble finding friends, teammates and coaches with nice things to say about Don Rogers.

Under other circumstances, his mother would have been so tickled with the words of praise--teammates who admired his enthusiasm, coaches who admired his leadership and his way with kids.

Rogers always sent his press clippings home to his mother. He would tease with reporters, saying that they had to make him look good so that he could send the story to his mother. It made him happy to make her happy.

He wouldn’t want to see the sorrow that his death has brought. If the pathologist is correct in his early speculation that cocaine was involved in the death that has turned what would have been a festive weekend into a nightmare, if this could have been avoided, Rogers certainly wouldn’t want to be here to see the agony.

Don Rogers never would have done anything that he knew would hurt his mother.

He mentioned her often. He credited her with all of his good traits. Don Rogers had good natural athletic ability, but all of his coaches point to his attitude and his willingness to work hard, to account for his success.

When he signed at UCLA, out of the now-closed Norte Del Rio High School, he was a top prospect but not a superstar. As a freshman he roomed with three-time All-American defensive back Kenny Easley, and he learned Easley’s philosophies. He had a year on the field with Easley, too, and patterned his hard-hitting style after the man who is now an All-Pro with the Seattle Seahawks.

Like Easley, Rogers was a terror on the football field, a punishing defensive back who made memorable impressions on any receiver who sought to catches passes in “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.” He is remembered for a hit that knocked Michigan quarterback Steve Smith out of the 1983 Rose Bowl game. And a hit that sent Michigan receiver Vince Bean flying through the air, topsy-turvy, while the ball got away.

He improved year after year, becoming a starter at UCLA, then an all-conference player, a star of two Rose Bowl victories, one of the Bruins’ MVPs, a first-round draft pick, an NFL Players Assn. defensive rookie of the year. He worked at his career.

Off the field, he was a friendly, easy-going guy with a gentle smile and a kind word for everyone. Never cocky. No braggadocio.

He cared about his teammates and he always showed respect for his opponents. He took pride in his work, but he never delighted in cheap shots.

He was a gentleman. His mother, a former kindergarten teacher, had taught him to be a little gentleman, and he grew with it gracefully.

He’s not the kind of guy usually associated with drugs. Easley didn’t want to believe it. Rogers’ high school basketball coach, Carl Youngstrom, says he refuses to believe it.

No doubt it was the burden of that unspoken stigma that added to the aura of secrecy around his mother’s home in the aftermath of the tragedy.

The man answering the door stood defensively blocking the small opening, explaining politely that no one was ready to talk about Rogers’ death.

Rogers’ younger brother was there. But Reggie Rogers wasn’t seeing anyone, either.

Reggie played basketball and football at the University of Washington. Their sister, Jackie, played basketball for Oregon State.

Loretha Rogers is proud of all of her children.

Youngstrom, now an assistant coach at Grant High in Sacramento, had noted that Loretha Rogers had raised three children on her own and that all three had earned Pac-10 scholarships. He been quoted almost prophetically in the morning paper: “This must be hard on his mother.”