Remembering Bill Hayes, actor and long-time TV star

Bill Hayes, a pivotal figure of day-time television passed away at the age of 98.

Hayes was probably best known for his portrayal of Doug Williams on Days of Our Lives since 1970, appearing in over 2,100 episodes of the show. The role of the former con artist-turned-lounge singer became one of the longest-running characters in the show’s history.

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Hayes was born in Harvey, Illinois, in 1925. Before becoming an actor, he started a career of a musician and a performer, reaching a Billboard chart-topping hit with The Ballad of Davy Crockett in 1955.

In 1953, Hayes had his Broadway debut in Me and Juliet and over the course of a decade he appeared in a number of productions.

By 1970, Hayes, a divorced father of five, was hoping to land a role closer to home when he joined the cast of Days of Our Lives, a decision that would define his career and endear him to millions of viewers.

It was on set that he met the great love of his life, actress Susan Seaforth, who played Julie Williams. Their on-screen chemistry translated into real life and the two tied the knot in 1974. They stayed together until Hayes’ passing.

Speaking of the instant connection they felt when they laid eyes on each other, Seaforth once said, “I’d seen enough to know that he was special.” Others could also see their unexplained connection. “We had a scene together shortly after meeting, and the head writer saw something going on between the two of us, just two people looking at each other, and he threw out the other plot lines he had for our characters,” she added.

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Hayes and Seaforth Hayes were both honored with Lifetime Achievement Awards at the 2018 Daytime Emmys for their enduring contributions to television. The couple’s acceptance speech was heartfelt, with Bill expressing gratitude for the fans who considered them part of their own lives.

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Honoring Hayes, a representative for the Peacock series told The Times in a statement, “It is with a heavy heart that we share the passing of our beloved Bill Hayes. One of the longest running characters on ‘Days of our Lives,’ Bill originated the role of Doug Williams in 1970 and portrayed him continuously throughout his life. He and his wife, Susan Seaforth Hayes, remained the foundation of the Williams-Horton family spanning more than 50 years.”

“I have known Bill for most of my life and he embodied the heart and soul of ‘Days of Our Lives,’” executive producer Ken Corday said in a statement. “Although we are grieving and will miss him, Bill’s indelible legacy will live on in our hearts and the stories we tell, both on and off the screen.”

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In addition to his iconic role on Days of Our Lives, Bill Hayes had other notable television appearances, including roles in Matlock and Frasier. During the 1950s and 60s, he featured in TV adaptations of popular musicals such as Kiss Me, Kate and Once Upon a Mattress. He also portrayed John Brooks in the 1958 TV movie Little Women.

The cause of Hayes’ death hasn’t been disclosed with the public.

Rest in peace, legend.

I Found Tiny Childrens Shoes on My Late Husbands Grave Every Time I Visited, Their Secret Changed My Life

When Ellen visits Paul’s grave, seeking solace, she’s puzzled by the sight of children’s shoes resting on his headstone. At first, she dismisses it, assuming it’s a mistake by another grieving family. But as more shoes appear over time, the mystery deepens. Determined to understand, Ellen eventually catches the person responsible—and her life changes in an instant.

The first time I saw the shoes, I thought someone had made a mistake. A small pair of blue sneakers lay beside Paul’s headstone, neatly arranged as if left with intention. I figured a grieving parent had misplaced them. People do strange things when they mourn—I know I did. After Paul passed away in a sudden accident, I spent an entire week making jam that I knew I’d never eat. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was doing something, anything.

But those shoes were different. They didn’t belong, and I moved them aside before placing my flowers by Paul’s grave. It wasn’t until my next visit that I noticed something unusual: there were more shoes. This time, tiny red rain boots. Then, during another visit, I found dark green sneakers. It was too deliberate to be random. And it didn’t make sense. Paul and I never had children. I tried to convince myself it was a mistake—a grieving parent finding comfort in placing shoes at the wrong grave—but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

As the shoes multiplied with each visit, it felt like an invisible hand was pulling at the fragile threads of peace I had stitched together. Frustrated, I stopped visiting for a while, hoping that by staying away, the shoes would disappear. They didn’t. Instead, they kept coming. When I finally returned, six pairs of children’s shoes stood in a neat row beside Paul’s headstone, like a haunting tribute I couldn’t comprehend.

My sadness turned into anger. Who was doing this? Was this some cruel joke?

Then, one cold morning, I finally saw her. She was crouched beside the grave, gently placing a pair of small brown sandals next to the growing collection. Her long, dark hair swayed in the breeze as she carefully arranged them, her movements slow and purposeful.

“Hey! You!” I yelled, charging toward her, the flowers I had brought slipping from my grasp, forgotten.

She flinched but didn’t run. Instead, she stood slowly, dusting off her coat before turning to face me. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.

It was Maya—Paul’s old secretary. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since she abruptly left her job. She had always been warm and cheerful, but the woman standing before me now seemed burdened with a sorrow I recognized all too well.

“Maya?” I whispered, the disbelief heavy in my voice.

She nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. Without a word, she reached into her coat pocket and handed me a worn photograph. My hands shook as I took it, my heart pounding in my chest.

It was a picture of Paul, smiling down at a baby boy cradled in his arms.

“His name is Oliver,” Maya said softly. “He’s Paul’s son.”

I stumbled backward, the world spinning as the weight of her words sank in. My husband, the man I thought I knew so well, had lived a secret life—with a child.

“You and Paul were…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Maya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. But after Paul’s accident, Oliver started asking about his dad. I told him Paul was watching over him, and every time Oliver gets a new pair of shoes, he asks me to bring the old ones to his daddy.”

The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.

I wanted to scream, to demand answers from a man who could no longer give them. But standing there, staring at the shoes left behind by a little boy who would never know his father, I felt my anger start to melt into something else—something softer.

Maya looked at me with guilt etched on her face. “I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.”

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