During my grandfather’s funeral, a stranger gave me a note — I couldn’t help but laugh after reading it because Grandpa had played a trick on us

At Grandpa’s funeral, 18-year-old Dahlia feels isolated as her family fumes over the pitiful $1 inheritance. But when a stranger slips her a secret note, Dahlia is pulled into a mystery only she can solve.

I stood by the graveside, hands clenched in the pockets of my too-small black dress, listening to the priest’s droning voice blend with the rustle of the wind.

This was the saddest day of my life, but everyone else in the family seemed more concerned with glaring at each other than mourning Grandpa.

I could feel their bitterness lingering in the chilly October air, thick like syrup. One dollar each. That’s all Grandpa left us in his will, and they were furious. But me? I wasn’t angry. Just… hollow.

Grandpa wasn’t supposed to be gone. He was the only person who ever saw me, not the mess-up or the spare kid nobody paid attention to, but me. He let me in when no one else cared.

I stared down at the flowers resting on his coffin. I’d brought him a red rose, and it stood out among the white daisies everyone else had placed on the casket.

“One dollar,” Aunt Nancy hissed from behind me. “One damn dollar! That man was loaded, and this is what we get?”

Uncle Vic let out a bitter laugh. “Right? I swear he did it on purpose, the spiteful old man.”

“Typical Dad,” Mom muttered, crossing her arms tight across her chest. “He always played favorites, and Dahlia here was his little pet. Bet she got something we don’t know about.”

Aunt Nancy’s eyes cut toward me, sharp as glass. “What did he leave you, Dahlia? Anything? Don’t act like you didn’t get something.”

I stiffened. “I got the same as all of you.”

Mom’s fingers tightened over my shoulder. “Are you sure?” she asked in a low voice. “You were always with him. Maybe he told you something… think hard, Dahlia. You owe it to your family to share whatever he gave you.”

Memories came rushing back of Grandpa’s goofy stories about long-lost treasure and the butterscotch candies he always kept in his coat pocket.

Sometimes, he’d wink at me and say, “One day, kiddo, I’m leaving you a treasure. Real treasure!” But it was just a game, a joke between us.

I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the coffin. “What Grandpa gave me was his love, his stories, and a place that felt more like home than my actual home. Those things were worth more than money, and there’s no way I can—”

“Nobody cares about any of that!” Mom snapped. “Think, girl! What happened to all of his money?”

I shrugged. I truly didn’t know the answer to her question and didn’t care. Grandpa was gone. He was my confidant, my safe place, my friend. I’d lost the most important person in the world, but all they cared about was slapping a price tag on his death.

“She knows something,” Vic muttered, loud enough for me to hear.

Their voices twisted together, accusing, scheming — like they could squeeze secrets out of me if they tried hard enough. But I had no secrets that could earn them more money.

The second they realized there’d be no fortune, they turned away from the grave and stormed off. I could still hear them bickering as they walked away, lashing out at each other like vultures. It made me sick.

“You must be Dahlia.”

I looked up to see a woman, maybe in her 60s, with kind eyes and a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her smile was soft and secretive, like she knew something the rest of us didn’t.

“I was a friend of your grandpa’s,” she said, leaning in as if we were co-conspirators. “He asked me to give you this.”

Before I could respond, she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand and whispered, “Don’t let anyone see it, especially your family.”

Her presence felt surreal, almost dreamlike, and before I could say anything, she was gone, swallowed by the crowd of mourners. My heart pounded in my chest as I unfolded the note.

111 locker — Southern Railway Station.

For a second, I stood frozen, the words blurring in front of me. Then it hit me: Grandpa’s “treasure.” A laugh bubbled up from my throat, inappropriate and wild, but I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t joking after all.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The note was tucked under my pillow like a secret. Grandpa’s voice echoed in my mind, playful yet certain: “Locker number 111… There’s treasure in there, kiddo!”

A weight settled on my chest, something between grief and hope. What if this wasn’t just some wild goose chase? What if Grandpa had really left something for me, hidden away where no one else could reach?

The thought twisted around in my mind until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know what was in that locker.

I called a cab the next morning. It was the first thing I did after I woke up. As I tiptoed past the kitchen, I could hear Mom muttering on the phone about Grandpa’s will, probably trying to squeeze sympathy or cash out of anyone who would listen.

I clenched my jaw and slipped out the door, the chilly morning air hitting my skin like a slap.

The ride to Southern Railway Station felt like the longest 20 minutes of my life.

My knee bounced with nervous energy as the cab wound through narrow streets, past graffiti-covered walls, and empty coffee shops just starting to open. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn’t say a word.

When we finally pulled up at the station, I stepped out and asked him to wait for me. I clutched the note tightly as I entered the train station.

The station smelled like diesel and stale popcorn. People rushed past me in every direction — commuters, travelers, strangers with places to go.

I hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling small and out of place. But then Grandpa’s voice floated back into my mind, steady and reassuring: “Real treasure, kiddo.”

I took a deep breath and headed toward the lockers and I could hear my heart pounding. Rows of metal boxes lined the wall, each one looking identical: gray, dented, and slightly rusty.

My eyes scanned the numbers until I found number 111.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded note. The key was taped to the back. With trembling fingers, I peeled it off and slid it into the lock.

For a second, it jammed, and I panicked. But then — click! The lock turned, and the door swung open.

Inside was a duffel bag. It was old, faded, and heavy. My hands shook as I pulled it out and unzipped it.

The bag was full of cash. Bundles upon bundles of it!

I gasped, my mind reeling. It couldn’t be real, could it? I reached in and pulled out a stack, flipping through crisp hundred-dollar bills. There had to be at least $150,000 in there.

And tucked inside the bag was another note, written in Grandpa’s messy scrawl:

For my beloved granddaughter, everything I saved is now yours. Take it and live free, kiddo. The rest of the family may not see your worth, but I’ve always believed in you.

Tears blurred my vision, and I hugged the note to my chest, a knot forming in my throat. This wasn’t just money. It was freedom — a way out.

Grandpa always knew how badly I needed to escape this family. And now, he’d given me exactly what I needed and tricked everyone else in the process!

I zipped the bag shut, slung it over my shoulder, and walked out of the station, my heart pounding in tune with my footsteps.

The early morning sun was just starting to peek through the clouds, casting everything in a soft, golden light. For the first time in years, I felt… light.

During the cab ride back, I stared out the window, watching the city come to life. I had options now. No more suffocating family dinners, no more being ignored or treated like an afterthought, no more being the family scapegoat.

I could leave. I could build something new.

The thought scared me as much as it excited me, but Grandpa’s voice echoed in the back of my mind: “Live free, kiddo.”

As the cab pulled up to my house, I made my decision. I wasn’t staying. Not another minute!

I didn’t even bother going inside. I pulled out my phone, booked a ticket to anywhere, and told the driver to head straight to the airport.

With the duffel bag in my lap and Grandpa’s note tucked safely in my pocket, I smiled for the first time in days.

I was free. And for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what that meant.

Actor Ali MacGraw sacrificed her own career for Steve McQueen

Ali MacGraw became a Hollywood superstar overnight. But just as quickly as she rose to fame, she disappeared from show business altogether.

Ali MacGraw
Ali MacGraw – born Elizabeth Alice MacGraw – was born on April 1, 1939, in Pound Ridge, New York, USA. Her mother, Frances, was an artist and worked at a school in Paris, later settling in Greenwich Village. She married Richard MacGraw, who was also an artist. In 1939, Ali was born.

Ali’s father Richard supposedly had issues from his own childhood which made him a little bit different from others.

He had survived a terrible childhood in an orphanage, running away at the age of 16 to go to sea. He would later study at an art school in Munich, Germany.

“Daddy was frightened and really, really angry. He never forgave his real parents for giving him up,” Ali explained, saying said her father’s adult life was spent “suppressing the rage that covered all his hurt.”

Ali MacGraw – childhood
Money was short for their family, too. Frances and Richard, together with Ali and her brother, Richard Jr, had to move into a house on a Pound Ridge wilderness preserve which they shared with an elderly couple.

“There were no doors; we shared the kitchen and bathroom with them,” Ali said. “It was utter lack of privacy. It was horrible.”

Mom Francis worked with several commercial-art assignments and supported the family. At the same time, Richard had a hard time selling his paintings, and as a result became very frustrated. Ali’s brother Richard became a victim for his anger at home.

“On good days he was great, but on bad days he was horrendous,” she recalled. “Daddy would beat my brother up, badly. I was witness to it, and it was terrible.”

Ali was the daughter of artists, and she knew that she, too, wanted to go into a creative line of work as she got older. She earned a scholarship at the prep school Rosemary Hall, and in 1956, she moved to study at Wellesley College in Massachusetts

By the age of 22, Ali MacGraw moved to New York and got her first job as an assistant editor at Harper’s Bazaar, working with photographers as an assistant.

Fashion work in New York
Fashion editor Diana Vreeland hired Ali as, what she recalls as, a “flunkie”. Ever seen the film The Devil Wears Prada? Well, it was pretty much that.

“It was ‘Girl! Get me a pencil!’,” MacGraw recalled.

The future Hollywood celebrity worked her job as an assistant for several months. Then, about six months in, fashion photographer Melvin Sokolsky noticed her beautiful looks, and Ali MacGraw was hired as a stylist,and given a better salary. She’d end up staying in that position for six years.

“I don’t know where she got this work ethic, but Ali would come in at eight a.m., and many times I’d come back at one in the morning and she would still be doing things for the next day,” Ruth Ansel, a former art director of Vanity Fair and Harper’s Bazaar recalls.

Ali was great as a stylist. But soon, she was asked to work in front of the cameras as a model. It didn’t take long before she was on magazine covers all over the world, even appearing in television commercials. For thing led to another, and Ali tumbled headfirst into the profession of acting.


She had been sketched nude by Salvador Dali a couple of years earlier. But when the surrealist artist started sucking her toes, MacGraw decided that she’d rather be an actress than a model.

Ali MacGraw – films
Ali went straight from an unknown stylist and into the world of cinema, and boy, did she do it with a bang.

She was untutored in the art of film, which gave her acting another dimension. Her natural beauty was stunning, and the audience loved her.

Following a small role in A Lovely Way to Die (1968), she was asked to star in the 1969 film Goodbye, Columbus. It turned out to be a great call, with MacGraw receiving a Golden Globe for Most Promising Newcomer – Female. The following year, she got her big international breakthrough with a role that would pretty much sum up her career.

Ali MacGraw had received a script from her agent. She’d read it and wept twice because of how much she loved it. She decided she really wanted a part in it, and got herself a meeting with the film’s producer Robert Evans – who at the time was Paramount Picture’s head of production – at the Beverly Hills Hotel’s Polo Lounge. Not only did Evans think she was perfect for the part in the movie Love Story, he absolutely fell in love with her.

MacGraw – playing the role of Jenny – acted alongside Ryan O’Neal in the movie Love Story. The American romantic drama film, in which Ali played a working-class college student, became a smash hit.


Love Story hit the cinemas in 1970, and wow did the audience cherish it. It became the No. 1 film in the United States, and at the time, it was the sixth highest grossing movie in history in the US and Canada.

Award-winning actress
MacGraw earned an Academy Award nomination for her role, and the film itself earned her another win and five Academy Award Nominations. She also won herself a second Golden Globe as Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama.

Film producer Robert Evans not only loved her on screen, he had fallen in love with her in real life, and that love was reciprocated. In 1969, the couple tied the knot, and two years later, they welcomed their son, Josh Evans.

Ali MacGraw was the hot new star of the 1970s, but her private life and marriage with Evans would soon come to an end. Steve McQueen had visited their home to ask her to star alongside him in The Getaway, and the two Hollywood stars clicked right away.

“I looked in those blue eyes, and my knees started knocking,” MacGraw recalled. “I became obsessed.”


MacGraw and McQueen had an affair, and she soon left Evans to live with the actor in Malibu, along with her son Josh.

“Steve was this very original, principled guy who didn’t seem to be part of the system, and I loved that,” she said.

Ali MacGraw – Steve McQueen
But after a while, Ali realized that Steve McQueen had his own problems. Following his father abandoning his mother, a then-14-year-old Steve was sent to a school for delinquent children. MacGraw said he never trusted women after that.


He didn’t like that she worked and had her own career. For a while, Ali stayed home to raise their sons. But her husband’s demands were something Ali simply couldn’t accept in the long run.

Not only that, but he’d explode if she even looked at another man. He also wanted her to sign a prenuptial agreement, promising not to ask for anything if they’d divorce. She abided by the agreement when they did divorce in 1978.

“I couldn’t even go to art class because Steve expected his ‘old lady’ to be there every night with dinner on the table,” she recalled.

“Steve’s idea of hot was not me. He liked blond bimbos, and they were always around.”


This was the start of a pretty dark time in MacGraw’s life. She arrived on set to shoot the 1978 film Convoy both drunk and high, which prompted her to quit drugs.

Leaving show business
At the same time, several of her movies, such as Players (1970) and Just Tell Me What You Want (1980) flopped.

“It’s brutal for women,” MacGraw told The Guardian about returning to show business in the late 1970s.


“I don’t think there’s a woman over 40 who’s ever been conspicuously in the spotlight who doesn’t get sick of the kind of questioning the media lays on you, the fashion industry, all of it. It’s cruel.”

MacGraw had a short stint as a Hollywood superstar actress. Thereafter, she decided to start working in interior design instead, but didn’t fully give up on her show business career. She appeared in the television miniseries The Winds of War (1983) and China Rose (1985), but soon, her life would change for the worse.

Ali MacGraw simply couldn’t get any work in film, and she thought she was useless. At the same time, she didn’t feel complete unless she had a partner, describing being in love like “a drug high”.


She felt alone and desperate, and drank heavily. In 1986, she checked herself into the Betty Ford Clinic in California.

“The worst stuff happened when I drank,” she said. “I lost my judgment; I fancied other women’s husbands.”

Family tragedies
Her son Josh Evans was 15 at the time and had a hard time watching his mother suffering. MacGraw spent 30 days in group therapy and came out a stronger person.

In 1993, another family tragedy occurred when her house in California burnt down due to a wildfire. She then decided to move from Los Angeles and settled in a town near Santa Fe, New Mexico.


“I live in a little village north of Santa Fe, New Mexico called Tesuque,” she revealed last year.

According to McGraw, her neighbors don’t see her as a former Hollywood star – instead they appreciate all the community work she’s been doing.

For example, she has been doing volunteer work at the annual International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Ali MacGraw left acting, but in 2006, she found herself once again on stage. She reunited with her Love Story co-actor Ryan O’Neal in the Broadway adaptation of the Danish film Festen.

Outside of the Broadway show, MacGraw’s been out of the spotlight the last couple of decades. She’s put her heart into work for animal rights … and produced plenty of successful yoga videos.

Speaking to the Herald-Tribune in 2019, MacGraw stated that she’s still open to new adventures and work.

“One of the lucky things for someone my age is that I’m open and curious,” MacGraw said. “There’s not just one thing I love to do and feel bereft if I can’t. But I know that I’m not happy when I’m not doing something creative.”

Josh Evans – Ali MacGraw
Even though Ali left acting, her family still has a foot in the business. Son Josh Evans is an actor and director, and he’s made a great name for himself in Hollywood.

Also, he looks so much like his mother!

Being the child of Hollywood celebrities Robert Evans and Ali MacGraw certainly came with plenty of pressure.

But for Josh Evans, born in January of 1971, it was pretty much show business he wanted to do from the start.

The first job he ever wanted to do, however, wasn’t in the film business. He didn’t dream about working as an actor, but it was just one of those things that happened.

In 1989, Josh Evans had a small part in Dream a Little Dream (1989), but he wanted to do more. As a teenager with nothing to lose, he used to go to the manager’s office to see the breakdowns of movies being made.

Josh Evans – actor & director
That’s when he met someone he recognized in famous director Oliver Stone. He was making Born on the Fourth of July at the time, starring Tom Cruise. And Josh wanted in.

“At the time I just knew [Oliver Stone] from Platoon. He was making a movie with Tom Cruise and there was a role for the little brother. I wanted to play that part, so he got me a meeting with Oliver Stone,” Josh Evans recalls.

“When I sat with him, Oliver asked ‘Oh, you think you look like Tom Cruise?’. Now knowing him, I realize he was mocking me, but I said, ‘Yeah, I do.’ So, he said, ‘We’ll see what happens.’ Four months later, I got a call to audition and I got the part. It was very exciting and you could feel how special that movie was going to be.”

Since then, Josh has had a great career both acting and directing. He starred in the biographic film The Doors in 1991 and since, he’s been both acting and directing.

With eight films on his resume as a director, he actually had Michael Madsen starring in his 2015 film Death in the Desert. But what does he like best?

“I am definitely more comfortable on the side of the camera that does not show myself,” Josh Evans says.

“If an interesting opportunity presents itself, I am not opposed to it. I think there are other people out there who are more qualified and want it more than I do. As far as directing and telling my stories, I would do that for free, whereas acting is more of a job, but I enjoy it once I do it.”

Josh Evans – family
Josh is a really handsome man, and the resemblance to her mother Ali MacGraw truly is great, especially in his big wonderful eyes.

In 2019, his father – Ali’s ex-husband – Robert Evans passed away. However, the family had the great memory of being together for him when he was honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2012.

Josh has been married twice. In October 2012, he married American singer and musician Roxy Saint. By then, their son Jackson was two years old – Grandma Ali MacGraw loves spending time with her wonderful family.

“He’s so wonderful,” MacGraw said about her son. “He’s my favorite human being on the planet, and he goes out with a girl I’m nuts about. Their relationship is so much about, among other things, friendship and respect.”

Ali MacGraw and Josh Evans surely are very proud of their wonderful family. We wish them all the best in the future, and who knows, maybe we’ll see them on the same stage or movie set in the future?

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