Growing up, you probably saw them on a grainy TLC documentary or caught a glimpse of them on a late-night talk show. Lori and George Schappell (formerly known as Dori) weren’t just a medical curiosity; they were a masterclass in how to live a big, messy, beautiful life when the deck is stacked against you.
They died recently. April 7, 2024, to be exact.
They were 62. Doctors told their parents they wouldn't see 30. They doubled that. It’s kinda wild when you think about the sheer defiance it takes to exist that long when your skull is literally fused to another person’s. They shared 30% of their brain matter—specifically the frontal and parietal lobes—and vital blood vessels.
But if you asked them about it, they’d basically tell you to mind your business. "Why fix what's not broken?" George used to say. That was their whole vibe.
The Name Change Nobody Saw Coming
Most people still search for "Lori and Dori." But that’s not who they were for the last two decades. In 2007, Dori made a massive life change and started identifying as a man named George.
This made them the first same-sex conjoined twins to identify as different genders.
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Honestly, the logistics of that are enough to make your head spin. Imagine transitioning while being physically attached to your sister. George didn't have gender-affirming surgery—doctors said it was way too risky—but he lived his life as a man. He dressed the part. He introduced himself that way. And Lori? She was his biggest fan. She just rolled with it.
Before he was George, he was Reba. He hated the rhyming names their parents gave them. He was such a massive Reba McEntire fan that he took her name for a while. He even had a legit career as a country singer, performing in places like Germany and Japan.
Living Separately While Fused Together
You’ve probably wondered how they actually lived. Like, the day-to-day stuff.
They lived in a two-bedroom apartment in Pennsylvania. They didn't share a room. They rotated. One night they’d sleep in Lori’s room, the next in George’s. It was their way of maintaining some semblance of a private life.
Lori was the "walker." George had spina bifida and was about four inches shorter, so he sat on a specialized wheeled stool. Lori would push him along as they went about their day.
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- Lori's Life: She was a trophy-winning bowler and worked in a hospital laundry for years. She was even engaged at one point, but tragically, her fiancé died in a car accident.
- George's Life: He was the performer. He’d be on stage singing country tunes while Lori stood there, basically being his support system.
When Lori went on dates, George would bring a book. He’d just tune it out. They mastered the art of "psychological separation" in a way most of us can't even fathom.
The Medical Reality of Craniopagus Twins
They were what’s known as craniopagus twins. It’s the rarest form of conjoining, only about 5% of cases. Because they shared so much brain tissue and major veins, separation was never a real option. It would have been a death sentence for one or both of them.
They spent the first 24 years of their lives in an institution. The state basically decided they were "mentally disabled" just because they were conjoined. They had to fight like hell to get out of there and prove they could live on their own.
They eventually graduated from a mainstream high school and took college classes. They weren't "patients"—they were people.
What killed them?
The public obituary from Leibensperger Funeral Homes didn't list a specific cause of death. They passed away at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital. When you’re 62 and sharing a circulatory system, any "simple" illness becomes a catastrophic event.
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Why Their Story Still Matters
The world is obsessed with "normalcy." We want to fix everything. But Lori and George spent 62 years proving that "normal" is a moving target. They traveled the world, had careers, fell in love, and fought for their autonomy.
They didn't want your pity. They didn't even want to be "unstuck."
If you want to understand their legacy, look at how they handled their limitations. They didn't see themselves as a tragedy. They saw themselves as a team.
Next Steps for Understanding Conjoined Life:
- Look into the 1997 documentary by Antony Thomas titled Our Life. It’s one of the most raw looks at how they negotiated their independence.
- Research the "Living Without Assistance" movement. The Schappells were pioneers in proving that people with extreme physical disabilities could maintain private apartments and jobs.
- Read the Guinness World Records entry for the oldest conjoined twins. It puts into perspective just how rare it is to reach your 60s with this condition.
They left behind a father and six siblings. More importantly, they left behind a blueprint for how to live on your own terms, even when you're never actually alone.