Alzheimer’s Care for Gus Rogerson

“Keep the lights on

and don’t turn them off–

I am carpe diem”

- Gus Rogerson

Some of you know Gus Rogerson from The 52nd Street Project, where he spent more than two decades as the Artistic Director. Some of you know him as an actor from Broadway and Off-Broadway. Some of you know him as a beloved friend, mentor, and family member. And now some of you may know him as a poet, from the radiantly intimate and intricate poems he’s been posting on Facebook over the last six months.

What some of you may not know is that Gus was diagnosed with young-onset Alzheimer's disease in March 2020, at 59 years old. He has the logopenic variant of Alzheimer’s which affects the language center of the brain and, in Gus’s case, his ability to retrieve and articulate words. Gus has met this diagnosis, as he has met most things, with more grace and curiosity and heart than we can concisely convey. But he can’t do this alone. And neither can his wife, Robin, who has been his steadfast partner in this, navigating both the emotional and financial costs for their family since Gus had to stop working two years ago. And that’s why we’re here.

Alzheimer’s is the most prevalent form of dementia and has been identified as the most expensive disease in America, more than cancer, more than heart disease. It is also one of the most stigmatized diseases, misunderstood by too many and often marked by profound social isolation.

This is a terminal disease that currently has no cure and when you’re diagnosed under the age of 65, as Gus was, many services reserved for elders don’t apply. The costs of dementia care will undoubtedly soar above and beyond what they currently can afford. The number of families scrambling and going bankrupt to pay for dementia care not covered by our current healthcare system is staggering. We don’t want this to happen to Robin and Gus.

Gus has continued to take the subway daily – swimming at Manhattan Plaza Health Club, taking walks with friends, going to plays and movies, and writing poetry. But recently Gus wrote: “The disease is heavier.” It’s becoming increasingly challenging for him to navigate NYC on his own. In October, Robin hired a social companion who has been spending Wednesdays with him. After their first day together, Gus gleefully observed: “It seems to me that all through six hours, I never thought of my condition.”

This kind of care, and the level of support Gus will need going forward, is costly – a care companion alone is $1,100 for 30 hours per week. This is just one component of the many expenses associated with his long-term care plan. Over time, it will amount to hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The last thing we want is for Robin to worry about money for essential medical care and basic living expenses, and the last thing we want for Gus is to feel isolated in the city he loves.

So here we are, turning to those of you who know and love the Morse Rogersons. Every donation will be of help and comfort to Gus, Robin, and their kids, Frankie and Lucy. Contribute if you can, and please share widely.

With gratitude,

Andrea Morse Doven and Michelle Memran

Plenty Enough

by Gus Rogerson

I live in a place,

that is two places,

the first place

is all of us and

the other place

where I can’t

hear or under-

stand or maybe

here and there

the rhythm of

of a line of song

or a poem or a

wonderful story

or on a sidewalk

talk with an old

friend or a new

I live one more

place, with words

words come

words coming in

coming out so I

can tell and retell

and know that I am

worthy because all

of all of us have the

right to show our

glory and praise