Roger Colvard, recently diagnosed with terminal bone cancer, says he feels 'abandoned'

One day, Roger Colvard lived in a $17 million mansion. The next, he was homeless.

Colvard didn’t exactly live inside the mansion — he lived in a two-room apartment above the garage until July 28. The house, named Southways, had been owned by the Gallant family for 50 years — the same amount of time Colvard said he worked as a handyman in Palm Beach.

Colvard's boss and friend, Antoinette “Toni” Gallant died last summer, at which time her son Steven Gallant took over care of the estate. The 14,000-square-foot historic mansion was then sold, and Colvard was told he had to leave.

The apartment was simple, and the 75-year-old Army veteran had to climb a steep set of narrow stairs to get to it, but it was home. There was no kitchenette and no air conditioning. It was bright, but the walls were grimy and the bathroom fixtures corroded. A 10-inch box television was perched next to a small table with 11 bottles of pain pills that Colvard refused to take.

The pills were prescribed to ease the pain of terminal bone cancer — a diagnosis he received after riding his blue bicycle to see his doctor at the VA Medical Center in Riviera Beach. Two to five years, they told him.

Not long after receiving that news is when Colvard found out he had two weeks to vacate his apartment.

Gallant said he allowed Colvard to remain living in the apartment after his mother died for $250 a month rent. The agreement, Gallant said, was that Colvard would make $12 an hour as a handyman for the property, but would not get paid until his bill exceeded the $250 rent. “It’s kind of an off-and-on part-time job,” Gallant said. “We let him live here. There are many weeks we didn’t ask him to do anything.”

Colvard said he feels like he is “being kicked to the curb” after being a dedicated worker and friend to Toni Gallant, who he loved with all his heart.

“I used to play piano for her,” he said, adding that she even bought him an electric piano because she loved to hear him play. “I gave her the best Hoffman’s chocolates and flowers. She made me happy. She made me feel good, and I really loved her for that.”

Colvard said he would hold Toni Gallant’s hand when she took walks around the courtyard, because he couldn’t stand the thought that she might slip and fall.

Chasing love

It was for the love of a woman that Colvard first came Florida in 1969, after serving in the Army since 1964. Originally from California, he moved between Florida, New York and Massachusetts, working for families like the Kennedys, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Goodale, the Pulitzers and the Gallants, he said. He survived melanoma and three surgeries that left his nose disfigured, but said he always had friends to help him.

Ruth Yaeger Lane, who was Colvard’s boss when he worked at the mansion that Estée Lauder subsequently purchased, once bought him a $27,500 piano just to hear him play, he said.

Lane died in 1985, Colvard said, and he was devastated until he developed a special relationship with Lilly Pulitzer, who he said became his "closest friend in Palm Beach."

For 30 years he did odds jobs for Pulitzer. “She’d call me up when a rat got in the house,” he said. “Once there were two, and she said, ‘I want you to catch them for me, but I don’t want you to hurt them and I don’t want you to kill them. Give them some food, give them some water, and leave them.’”

Eventually, “time caught up with her” Colvard said of Pulitzer, who died in 2013. “I’ve said more prayers for her than anybody,” he said, his voice dropping.

Liza Pulitzer, Lilly’s Pulitzer’s daughter, said she doesn’t remember a time when Colvard wasn’t around. “They really had a special relationship, those guys,” she said of Colvard and her mother. “Mom cared so much about him. She would have never, ever fired him in his lifetime.”

Pulitzer said that Colvard and her mom used to run errands together: the hardware store, Kentucky Fried Chicken, anywhere they could just take off on a mini adventure. She said she is heartbroken to see Colvard feeling so scared and alone.

“When you age out, it's frightening,” she said. “You want to know that you mean something to someone. Any of us getting kicked out to the curbside has got to be a terrifying thing.”

Tough luck

Colvard said his monthly VA benefit of $1,100 doesn't go far, and he is not eligible for Social Security because his income was largely under the table. He gets $16 a month in food stamps.

"I’m not really happy,” he said the day after he left his Palm Beach apartment. “I’m going to have to sleep outside tonight. I hope I have a heart attack. If I could push a button, I wish I could just go away. I feel abandoned.”

A week later, Colvard moved into a five-bedroom house in West Palm Beach with four other men, thanks to the the assistance of a Palm Springs charity called Faith, Hope Love and Charity, Inc. The organization paid $650 for the first month's rent, but Colvard said he will not be able to afford to stay after this month.

He subsists on big pots of spaghetti and pasta sauce that he said he can make last for days.

"I've looked for work in Palm Beach," he said, frustrated that he can't earn enough to get himself back to the town he loves. "Forget it. The only work I can get is walking the dog."