Dan Blocker Truly Hated Him More Than Anyone | HO!!

Dan Blocker Truly Hated Him More Than Anyone

To the outside world, Bonanza was the warmest, most wholesome, most tightly knit Western in American television history. Four men—the Cartwrights—rode across millions of screens every week, giving America a heroic vision of family, loyalty, and frontier morality.

But behind the camera, behind the staged brotherhood and the sweeping orchestral score, one conflict simmered so intensely that it left scars on everyone around it. Dan Blocker—the beloved gentle giant who played Eric “Hoss” Cartwright—was famous for his kindness, his humor, and his unwavering sense of loyalty.

Which is why what insiders later admitted shocked so many:

Dan Blocker truly hated one man more than anyone he ever worked with.

And that man was Pernell Roberts.

What made the conflict so remarkable was not just the tension itself—but the fact that it involved the two most opposite personalities the set had ever known: Blocker, the warm Texas soul, and Roberts, the fiercely intellectual firestorm who refused to bend to anyone.

To understand why Blocker’s hatred was so intense, you have to understand who he was… and who Roberts refused to be.

The Making of a Gentle Giant

Dan Blocker was not born to be a star.

He didn’t come from glamour, privilege, or ambition.

He came from the rugged hills of DeKalb, Texas, born December 10, 1928, to a life defined by hard work, humility, and decency.

Standing at 6’4″ and weighing 300 pounds, he looked like a bear but carried the gentle heart of a minister. His parents ran a small grocery store in O’Donnell, Texas—where every customer mattered, every dollar was earned, and every interaction carried a lesson about kindness.

He studied at Texas Military Institute, then earned a degree in English and later a master’s degree in dramatic arts. He wasn’t just big—he was smart. Thoughtful. Disciplined.

Then came the Korean War.

Blocker served as an infantry sergeant, a role that changed him forever. The violence, the leadership, the responsibility—they forged in him a deep, unshakeable sense of empathy. Those who served with him said the same thing:

“He looked like a warrior,
but he had the soul of a caretaker.”

After the war, he taught high school English and drama. Acting wasn’t his dream; it was Plan C. But fate has a strange sense of timing.

When he landed small TV roles in the late 1950s—The Rifleman, Gunsmoke, The Restless Gun—nobody had ever seen someone like him. Casting directors didn’t just notice his size; they felt his presence.

And in 1959, his life changed forever.

Becoming Hoss Cartwright — America’s Big Brother

Bonanza premiered in 1959, and Dan Blocker’s portrayal of Hoss Cartwright instantly won America’s heart. Hoss wasn’t the fastest gun, the slickest talker, or the deadliest cowboy. He was the soul of the show—the moral compass, the emotional bedrock, the man audiences trusted.

Children loved him.

Critics praised him.

Families tuned in every Sunday because Hoss made them feel safe.

Behind the scenes, Blocker became the glue of the cast.

Lorne Greene adored him.

Michael Landon leaned on him.

Crew members respected him.

He was the rare Hollywood actor with no ego.

Which is why his deep hatred for one co-star—his only hatred—stunned everyone.

The Collision: Dan Blocker vs. Pernell Roberts

Pernell Roberts, who played Adam Cartwright, was everything Blocker wasn’t.

Where Blocker was warm, Roberts was cold.

Where Blocker was gentle, Roberts was confrontational.

Where Blocker respected teamwork, Roberts openly despised the show that made him famous.

Roberts was a classically trained actor—a Shakespearean purist who believed Bonanza was beneath him. He criticized the show constantly, calling it unrealistic, shallow, even “insulting to the audience.”

He said the scripts lacked meaningful depth.

He argued with directors.

He refused to rehearse lines he considered “poorly written.”

He walked off set whenever he disagreed.

To Roberts, Bonanza was a paycheck.

To Blocker, it was a family.

The conflict was inevitable.

Why Dan Blocker Truly Hated Him

Crew members later recalled that Blocker rarely disliked anyone. He was too grounded, too mature, too compassionate for petty grudges.

But Pernell Roberts tested him like no one else.

The reasons ran deep:

1. Roberts disrespected the cast and crew

Blocker believed work was sacred. Roberts often treated the writers, directors, and even fellow actors with disdain.

When Roberts publicly called the show “a juvenile fantasy for undiscerning audiences,” Blocker snapped privately:

“You don’t tear down the people who feed you.”

2. Roberts refused to rehearse “beneath him” scenes

Blocker saw this as a slap in the face to everyone working long hours to make the show succeed.

3. Roberts’s bitterness poisoned the set

Michael Landon once recalled:

“When Pernell walked in, everyone stopped breathing.”

Blocker hated that.

4. Roberts didn’t value the opportunity

Blocker knew where he came from. He knew what it meant to struggle. To him, Bonanza wasn’t perfect—but it was a blessing.

Roberts treated it like a burden.

5. Roberts undermined the family atmosphere Blocker cherished

Dan viewed the cast as brothers. Roberts viewed them as coworkers.

Those conflicting beliefs were irreconcilable.

Blocker once said—perhaps the most blunt statement he ever made:

“Pernell thought he was smarter than the rest of us. Maybe he was.

But that didn’t give him the right to treat us like fools.”

He meant every word.

Hollywood’s Most Quietly Toxic Relationship

The tension didn’t explode in fistfights or screaming matches. It simmered—quiet, corrosive, relentless.

Roberts’s criticisms grew louder as the show became more successful.

Blocker’s patience grew thinner.

Crews dreaded scenes where the two shared dialogue.

Michael Landon tried to be the peacemaker.

Lorne Greene pretended not to notice.

But the truth was obvious:

Dan Blocker despised working with Pernell Roberts.

And yet—Blocker still tried to be professional.

He once told a producer:

“We don’t have to like each other.

We just have to respect each other.”

But Roberts refused that too.

Finally, in 1965, after years of conflict, Pernell Roberts quit the show.

Blocker’s reaction was not celebratory—just exhausted relief.

“I never wished him ill,” he said. “But I was glad to stop fighting.”

It was the closest he ever came to admitting hatred on record.

The Marriage That Made Blocker Human

Part of what made Blocker so steady—so loved—was his home life.
His marriage to Dolphia Parker Blocker was one of Hollywood’s rare, unshakeable love stories.

They met in college in Texas.

Married in 1952.

Long before fame.

Long before Bonanza.

Long before Blocker became a giant in American living rooms.

She stood by him when he was a teacher.

She supported him through low-paying acting bit parts.

She gave him four children.

She grounded him in the exact way Roberts resented being grounded by Bonanza.

When Hollywood tempted him with parties and fame, he went home instead.

Every time.

Blocker once said:

“My wife is the real center of my life.

Hollywood is just where I work.”

That stability made Roberts’s bitterness even harder for Blocker to tolerate.

Because Blocker knew what gratitude looked like.

And Roberts didn’t.

The Unexpected Tragedy That Shattered Hollywood

On May 13, 1972, the world was blindsided.

Dan Blocker—America’s gentle giant—was dead at 43.

The cause:

A pulmonary embolism caused by a blood clot after what should have been a routine gallbladder surgery.

He walked into the hospital for a simple procedure.

He never walked out.

The entertainment world reeled.

Michael Landon wept uncontrollably.

Lorne Greene collapsed into silence.

Fans across America mourned a man who felt like family.

Even Pernell Roberts—long gone from the show—was shaken. Years later, when asked about Blocker, he admitted with rare softness:

“Dan was the best of us.”

But Roberts said it too late.

Blocker never heard it.

The Final, Bittersweet Truth

Dan Blocker wasn’t perfect.

He could be stubborn.

He held grudges longer than he admitted.

And when someone violated his sense of loyalty, it cut him deeply.

But he never hated frivolously.

Never hated for ego.

Never hated to feel superior.

Which is why the one man he truly hated—Pernell Roberts—speaks volumes.

Blocker hated Roberts not because Roberts was different, or difficult, or demanding.

He hated him because Roberts refused to respect the one thing Blocker valued above everything:

Human decency.

Blocker believed a cast was a family.

Roberts believed a cast was a cage.

Blocker believed gratitude was essential.

Roberts believed gratitude was weakness.

Blocker believed kindness was strength.

Roberts believed intellect was enough.

Two men.

Two philosophies.

Two worlds colliding.

And one heartbreak that fans never fully understood—until now.

Legacy: The Heart and the Rebel

Today, Bonanza lives on not just as a Western, but as a cultural touchstone.

Dan Blocker is still beloved—the warm soul, the gentle hero, the man whose absence ended an era.

Pernell Roberts is remembered as the brilliant rebel—the difficult genius who demanded more from the show and from himself.

But their conflict remains one of Hollywood’s most profound behind-the-scenes tragedies:

A man who embodied kindness forced to confront a man who seemed immune to it.

Dan Blocker truly hated Pernell Roberts more than anyone.

But in the end, that hatred came from something painfully human:

Disappointment.

Disappointment that someone so talented could be so cold.

Disappointment that someone so intelligent could be so bitter.

Disappointment that someone he once respected never learned how to respect back.

And that is the real heartbreak behind the legend.