Lorenzo Lamas from ‘Falcon Crest’: Age, height, family, children, net worth

You could say Lorenzo Lamas was always destined to become an actor. His parents worked in the industry, and it didn’t take long before he entered it himself.

Lamas has starred in classics such as the television series Falcon Crest and the legendary film Grease. Still to this day, the California native is working as an actor – and at 65, he looks terrific!

However, Lamas’s life has had its ups and downs, and he’s gone through some rather tough times. Here’s all you need to know about Lorenzo and the many struggles he’s overcome. 

One was getting over the fact that his son had an affair with his ex-wife.

Lorenzo Lamas
Getty Images

Even as a young kid, Lorenzo Lamas’s stars had aligned where acting was concerned.

Born Lorenzo Fernando Lamas on January 20, 1958, in Santa Monica, California, he was raised by his mother Arlene Dahl, an American actress of Norwegian descent, and his father Fernando Lamas, an Argentinian who worked as an actor and director.

Lorenzo Lamas – early life

Lorenzo grew up in the fashionable area of Pacific Palisades, California. At age two, his parents divorced, and eight years later, he moved to New York with his father.

Lorenzo has often drawn upon the fact that his family comes from different parts of the world. He once starred as Dracula in a Halloween production of the famous Bram Stoker novel and had no problem at all adopting a different accent.

“I grew up with a man who had a voice like Dracula and every other bigger-than-life character you could ever think of in my father,” he told the New York Times in 2007. “I take a little bit from him to do the accent. I’ve also done four movies in Bulgaria.”

While Lorenzo was transitioning from a kid into a young man, his father had a pretty wild lifestyle. According to Lorenzo, his father had “been with every woman.” Yet as a child, he adored him.

“I idolized my father, especially as a young boy. He was bigger than life. He commanded the room. He’d done everything, seen everything,” he told Fox. “It’s pretty heady stuff to grow up with.”

Lorenzo Lamas
Jack Mitchell/Getty Images)

“He was Latin, he was very judgmental, he thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen. He just happened to marry a woman who was a top ten box office star of the ’50s, and she retired to serve him!”

First work in acting

Lorenzo’s father married actress Esther Williams in 1969, a year after their move to “The Big Apple,” and life for Lorenzo got tough at times. For example, when Esther’s children visited, Lorenzo wasn’t even allowed to sleep in the house!

“He was many things, but he was also fair, so if he wasn’t going to allow another man’s children in his house, then he couldn’t allow me in the house,” he recalled.

“So my roommate was a Rolls Royce. I had a key that let me in the backdoor where there was a guest bathroom. But I came from military school, so living in a garage in Beverly Hills was plush to me. I had shared a urinal with 30 guys for the last four years. Looking back, I know that’s not normal. I know that I would never do that to my kids. I run my three teenage daughters around like a chauffeur.”

Lorenzo Lamas attended private school and graduated from the Admiral Farragut Academy in 1975. Instead of staying on the East Coast, he decided to leave for his home state of California.

Though his father could be a strict man, he always encouraged his son to follow his dreams and backed him wholeheartedly in pursuing his dreams of becoming an actor. Lorenzo enrolled at Tony Barr’s Film Actors Workshop. In 1977, he got his first minor role in television, starring in two episodes of the show Switch.

Lorenzo Lamas
Aaron Rapoport/Corbis/Getty Images

While cultivating his acting talent, Lorenzo also found that he had a tremendous interest in martial arts. He got in shape – and later on, earned black belts in both taekwondo and karate.

Lorenzo Lamas in ‘Grease’

Now, getting roles in bigger productions often takes time for most actors. Some have to try out at hundreds of auditions to get one part; others have to wait years, maybe even decades, to land their first role in a more significant Hollywood production.

For Lorenzo Lamas, however, this wasn’t the case. In 1978, he was cast as the good-looking stud “Tom Chisum” in the legendary film Grease, featuring John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John. He played the boyfriend of Olivia Newton-John’s character, “Sandy”. That said, he initially wasn’t chosen for the part.

Steven Ford – son of former President Gerald Ford – was considered for the role, but was reportedly too nervous to play “Tom”. The part had no dialogue, but that didn’t bother Lorenzo when he got the gig.

People probably knew that the film had potential at the time, but even so, it’s safe to say that Lamas secured himself an extraordinary place in film history with his relatively small credit in Grease.

“I’m amazed by the longevity. It keeps finding new generations of people,” he told Studio 10.

Lorenzo had dark hair at the time, but the producers thought he looked too much like a “T-Bird” to star as Sandy’s boyfriend. As a result, they dyed his hair lighter – something that he didn’t mind at all.

“I would have dyed it green, fuchsia, anything,” he told People.

Youtube/Josodoyo

At the time, John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John were already stars. For Lorenzo Lamas, it was a dream come true just to meet them. What made the whole thing even better, was that Olivia Newton-Jon had been Lorenzo’s childhood crush.

Became a star on ‘Falcon Crest’

“I was 19. It was only the third thing I’ve ever done. And I was at the Paramount lot, meeting my childhood crush, Olivia Newton-John, and Mr. Saturday Night Fever, John Travolta. So I was kind of in a complete zombie state, to begin with,” Lorenzo recalled.

He explained that he had all her albums, and in high school, he and his friends even had routines dancing to her albums. When they finally met, Lorenzo was almost knocked off his heels.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off her,” he told Studio 10.

Grease was, of course, a big deal for Lorenzo and a fantastic opportunity when looking back. Naturally, though, it wasn’t quite a breakthrough since he only appeared in a few scenes.

In 1981, he got the role of Lance Cumson on Falcon Crest. The nighttime soap became a huge success, with Lamas starring alongside Oscar-winning actress Jane Wyman for 228 episodes.

Wyman portrayed Lamas’ grandmother on the show – at that time, she was a massive Hollywood star. Lamas had problems with illegal substances at this point in his career, until one day on set, Wyman had enough of his behavior

Became a star on ‘Falcon Crest’

“I was 19. It was only the third thing I’ve ever done. And I was at the Paramount lot, meeting my childhood crush, Olivia Newton-John, and Mr. Saturday Night Fever, John Travolta. So I was kind of in a complete zombie state, to begin with,” Lorenzo recalled.

He explained that he had all her albums, and in high school, he and his friends even had routines dancing to her albums. When they finally met, Lorenzo was almost knocked off his heels.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off her,” he told Studio 10.

Grease was, of course, a big deal for Lorenzo and a fantastic opportunity when looking back. Naturally, though, it wasn’t quite a breakthrough since he only appeared in a few scenes.

In 1981, he got the role of Lance Cumson on Falcon Crest. The nighttime soap became a huge success, with Lamas starring alongside Oscar-winning actress Jane Wyman for 228 episodes.

Wyman portrayed Lamas’ grandmother on the show – at that time, she was a massive Hollywood star. Lamas had problems with illegal substances at this point in his career, until one day on set, Wyman had enough of his behavior

I Went to Church and Accidentally Heard My Husband’s Voice Coming from the Confessional Booth

Amanda’s life seemed perfect — a loving husband, two wonderful kids, and a thriving family business. But one unexpected visit to the church turned her world upside down when she overheard her husband’s voice coming from the confessional booth, revealing secrets she never imagined.

If someone had asked me last month to describe my life, I’d have said it was near perfect. Eric and I had been married for 12 years, and we had two beautiful kids, Emily and Lucas. Our weekends were spent at soccer games, family picnics, and working together at our small café on Main Street.

Eric was my rock. He had this calming presence that could smooth over any storm. His gentle touch and reassuring smile could dissolve my anxieties like sugar in warm tea.

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

“We’ve got this, Amanda,” he’d whisper during challenging moments, his fingers intertwining with mine. When Emily’s bicycle chain broke or Lucas struggled with a math problem, Eric would step in with his quiet expertise, making everything seem effortless.

That morning, when Eric kissed me goodbye, there was something different in his eyes — a fleeting shadow I couldn’t quite decode. “Running some errands,” he said, his voice steady, but something beneath it felt… different.

“Pick up milk,” I called after him, more out of habit than necessity. He winked and pointed at me like he always did, but the gesture now felt rehearsed and almost mechanical.

A man walking away | Source: Midjourney

A man walking away | Source: Midjourney

With the house suddenly silent (the kind of silence that seemed to hold its breath) I decided to visit the old church a few blocks down. I hadn’t been there in years. Something about it felt right that day, though an inexplicable tremor of uncertainty rippled through my chest.

Little did I know that within those ancient stone walls, my perfect world was about to crumble.

The church smelled of old wood and candle wax, familiar and soothing. Dust motes danced in the filtered sunlight, suspended between rows of weathered pews.

I wandered through the space, letting my mind drift, hoping to find a moment of reprieve from the constant hum of daily life. It felt peaceful, like I’d discovered a delicate bubble of calm in my relentlessly busy world.

A woman in church | Source: Pexels

A woman in church | Source: Pexels

As I walked past the confessional booth, a familiar voice floated out… muffled at first, then gradually becoming more distinct.

My steps faltered, a cold shiver racing down my spine. It was Eric’s voice. The timbre was unmistakable… that low, controlled tone I’d known for 12 years.

No, I thought. That can’t be. Eric isn’t here. He’s running errands.

But then he spoke again, clearer this time. “Father, I need to confess something.” The words hung in the air, weighted with a burden I couldn’t comprehend.

I froze, every muscle in my body locking into place. My brain screamed at me to walk away, to unhear what was happening, but my feet seemed rooted to the worn marble floor.

A man in a confession booth in church | Source: Pexels

A man in a confession booth in church | Source: Pexels

“I’ve been living a double life,” Eric said, his voice low and trembling. “I’ve been cheating on my wife, Amanda. I have a mistress… and two children with her.” Each word felt like a knife, systematically dismantling everything I believed about our marriage.

My knees nearly buckled. I reached out, desperate to steady myself against the wall, the cold stone biting into my palm like a sharp reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare, but a brutal, horrifying reality.

Mistress? Two children? My Eric?

The words echoed in my mind, fragmenting my entire understanding of our life together. Twelve years of shared memories, trust, and love — all crumbling in an instant.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

I backed away, my head spinning, and my chest heaving as ragged breaths escaped me. Tears blurred my sight, transforming the sacred space into a kaleidoscope of broken light. I stumbled out of the church and into the bright morning sun, feeling like a ghost of myself.

I made it to the car before the first sob escaped. It tore through me, raw and uncontrollable…. like a sound of betrayal that seemed to rip from the deepest part of my soul. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, the leather creaking beneath my trembling fingers.

Each breath felt like broken glass, sharp and painful. Then, my phone buzzed. Eric’s name flashed on the screen, mocking me with its casual familiarity.

A woman holding a phone flashing an inoming call | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a phone flashing an inoming call | Source: Midjourney

I wiped at my face furiously, trying to steel myself and find some semblance of composure before answering. My reflection in the rearview mirror was a stranger… eyes red, skin pale, and a mask of shock and mounting fury.

“Hey,” I said, forcing calm into my tone, a performance worthy of an actress.

“Hi, hon,” he said, his voice as smooth and casual as ever. The endearment now felt like poison. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading to a friend’s place to help with his car. Might take a couple of hours.”

A fresh wave of rage and despair surged through me. I could taste the bitterness of his lie and feel the weight of his deception. Yet, I swallowed it down.

“Sure,” I said tightly, each word a carefully controlled dagger. “I’ll see you at home later.”

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

I hung up and stared at the dashboard, my mind reeling. He was lying to me. Calmly. Effortlessly. As if our entire life together was nothing more than a casual script he could rewrite at will.

The silence of the car pressed against me, heavy with the revelation that would forever split my life into “before” and “after”.

I didn’t go home. The thought of returning to our carefully curated life felt impossible. Instead, I parked across the street from the church and waited, my hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.

An anxious woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

An anxious woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

Ten minutes later, Eric walked out, looking completely at ease. His movements were relaxed, and his face was unburdened by the confession I’d just overheard. He climbed into his car and pulled away, unaware that his entire world was about to shatter.

Something inside me snapped. A cold, calculated fury replaced my initial shock. I started my car and followed him.

He drove through town, taking backroads until he reached a quiet and familiar neighborhood. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear its rhythm in my ears. Each turn, each mile felt like a betrayal unfolding in real-time.

A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash

A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash

I watched as he parked in front of a small, familiar house — a place that used to represent warmth and friendship.

Susan’s house. The air left my lungs in a rush. Susan. My former best friend.

We hadn’t spoken in four years, not since a stupid fight over something so trivial it now seemed laughable. I couldn’t even remember the exact details, but it had been petty… something about her flaking on a lunch date and me accusing her of not caring about our friendship.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here she was, caring very deeply about something: MY HUSBAND.

A house surrounded by a beautiful garden | Source: Midjourney

A house surrounded by a beautiful garden | Source: Midjourney

I watched as Eric walked up to the door and knocked. Susan opened it, and my stomach lurched when she smiled at him… warm, intimate, and welcoming. The kind of smile reserved for someone who knows you deeply and who shares your secrets.

Then, they hugged. Not the casual hug of old friends, but something deeper. Intimate. Their bodies melting into each other with a familiarity that spoke volumes.

I sat frozen in my car, a silent witness to the unraveling of everything I thought I knew. As they disappeared inside together, the world around me seemed to blur and sound muted, and the colors dulled.

My perfect life had just become a lie.

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

I didn’t think. I just acted. Pure, raw emotion propelled me forward. I threw the car door open and stormed across the lawn, my blood boiling like molten lava. My hands trembled as I pounded on the door with a force that seemed to echo my shattered heart.

When Susan opened it, her face drained of color. The guilt was instantaneous, written across her features like a confession.

“Amanda,” she whispered, the name sounding more like a prayer of desperate apology.

A startled woman opening the door | Source: Midjourney

A startled woman opening the door | Source: Midjourney

Eric appeared behind her, his eyes widening in shock, caught in a moment of pure vulnerability. “AMANDA? What are you doing here?” he stammered.

“What am I doing here?” I barked and shoved past Susan into the living room. “I should be asking YOU that.”

That’s when I saw them: two little girls playing on the floor. They looked up at me with wide, curious eyes… eyes that were unmistakably Eric’s. Same shape, same color, and same hint of mischief. They were carbon copies of the man I thought I knew.

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

My knees threatened to give out, but rage held me upright like an invisible steel rod. “Are they yours?” I demanded, my voice a broken whisper that threatened to become a scream.

Eric sighed with a gesture of weary resignation, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I’d once found endearing. “Amanda, let me explain—”

“EXPLAIN?” I cut him off. “Explain how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back for years? How you’ve built an entire second family with my so-called best friend?”

A nervous man | Source: Midjourney

A nervous man | Source: Midjourney

Susan stepped forward, her hands wringing like a pathetic gesture of remorse. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this—”

“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, whirling on her with a fury that made her step back. “You betrayed me. You, of all people. And for what? Your friend’s husband?”

Eric raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Amanda, let’s calm down and talk about this—”

“Calm down?” I laughed. “You don’t get to ask me to calm down, Eric. Not after this.”

The little girls stared, confused and frightened. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. They were innocent in this web of betrayal. But the feeling was quickly consumed by my rage.

Two frightened little girls sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

Two frightened little girls sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

“This is OVER,” I said, my voice trembling with a finality that felt like a death sentence. “I want a divorce. And you—” I pointed at Susan, each word dripping with venom, “you’re DEAD to me.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging like a guillotine, ready to sever the last threads of our shared history.

The divorce was swift and surgical, like cutting out a malignant tumor from my life. Eric didn’t contest it, which spoke volumes. Perhaps he knew the depth of his betrayal made any argument futile.

His family, once a second home to me, rallied around me, not him. His father, who had always treated me like the daughter he never had, cut ties with Eric entirely.

Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels

Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels

More than financial support, his continued presence felt like a validation. “You deserve so much more, Amanda,” he told me, his weathered hands squeezing mine with a protective fierceness that made me feel supported in my most vulnerable moments.

Eric’s betrayal had shattered me… initially. But in its devastating wake, I discovered a new kind of strength. A strength that wasn’t defined by my roles as a wife or a mother, but by who I was at my core. I wasn’t just Amanda the wife or Amanda the mother.

I was Amanda… a woman with her own identity, her own resilience, and her own power.

A woman looking outside | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside | Source: Midjourney

The pain transformed me. Each tear, each moment of anger, and each sleepless night became fuel for my reconstruction. I wasn’t broken. I was breaking free.

As for Susan and Eric? They could have each other. Their betrayal was their burden to bear, not mine to carry. Because now, for the first time in years, I was truly free. And in that freedom, I found something far more valuable than the life I’d lost — MYSELF.

Portait of an emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

Portait of an emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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