Basic information
| Field | Details |
|---|---|
| Full name | Gladys Louise Manigault |
| Known as | “Dimples” (nickname recorded in memorial listings) |
| Date of birth | January 21, 1973 |
| Date of death | February 20, 2016 |
| Parents | Jack Thomas Manigault Sr. (b. 1944 – d. 1981), Theresa Marie Walker |
| Notable siblings | Omarosa Onee Manigault Newman; Jack Thomas Manigault Jr. (deceased) |
| Public profile | Primarily memorial and genealogical records; no widely published professional biography |
Early life and family context
Gladys Louise Manigault entered the world on January 21, 1973, as one thread in a family that has at times occupied the public imagination. She belonged to a household shaped by names and events that carry weight: a father who died when the children were young, a mother who raised them, and siblings whose lives followed widely different arcs. Dates matter here: her father’s life ended in 1981, when Gladys was still a child. Numbers mark turning points—1973, 1981, 2011, 2016—each a small pivot in a broader family story.
Her family roots are often referenced in discussions of her better-known sister, but Gladys herself is not presented in the usual places where career biographies live. Instead, the traces that remain are compact: a birth date, a death date, a nickname that suggests warmth. These are not the sweep of a public life, but they do give shape—a silhouette rather than a full portrait.
Siblings, loss, and public echoes
Gladys was one of several children. Omarosa Onee Manigault Newman is widely recognized in media and public life and is listed among Gladys’s siblings. Another brother, Jack Thomas Manigault Jr., was killed in October 2011—an event that drew press attention and cast a long shadow across the family calendar. The murder in 2011 is a concrete date that changed the family landscape; it is a marked point on any timeline of this household.
There are other names that appear in genealogical compilations—extended relatives and possible siblings listed in family trees—but those entries are patchwork by nature. They suggest connections, not certainties. Where hard facts are available, they are used; where the web of relations grows thin, the record keeps quiet.
Public profile and the silence of records
Gladys’s public footprint is a study in minimalism. There is no accessible résumé, no prominent professional biography, no widely reported business leadership, and no publicized financial profile attached to her name in mainstream news indexes. What remains are memorial entries that preserve dates and a few personal touches—photographs uploaded by friends or family, a nickname that hints at personality.
A life need not be measured by headlines. But for readers seeking a conventional dossier—jobs, titles, awards—the file on Gladys is essentially blank. The absence itself becomes a fact: the absence of a public career record, the absence of legal filings or commercial records that would typically generate searchable traces.
Timeline of key dates
| Year | Event |
|---|---|
| 1973 | Gladys Louise Manigault born (January 21). |
| 1981 | Death of Jack Thomas Manigault Sr. (father). |
| 2011 | Murder of brother Jack Thomas Manigault Jr. (October). |
| 2016 | Gladys Louise Manigault died (February 20). |
These four dates stitch together a compact chronology. The years do not tell everything, but they provide a scaffold for understanding the family’s public chronology.
The household behind the headlines
Think of the Manigault family as a small constellation: a few bright points—public figures, tragic events—surrounded by lesser-known stars. Gladys occupies one of those quieter lights. Her presence is felt not through press releases, but through the gravity of family ties. She is referenced in the periphery of other stories—biographies and profiles that treat family life as context for a public person.
The nickname “Dimples,” attached to her name in certain memorial listings, reads like a private photograph: an intimate detail preserved where privacy and remembrance intersect. Nicknames function as short, human bridges across time. They tell us something about how a person was known in close circles, even when larger platforms remain silent.
Memorials, mentions, and public silence
After February 20, 2016, Gladys’s name appears in memorial archives and genealogical collections rather than in mainstream news feeds. Mentions of her are most commonly folded into family narratives—appearing when the family is profiled, or when siblings’ lives are examined in public forums. The record is not empty; it is selective. It keeps dates, it preserves a moniker, and it locates Gladys within a family that has experienced both public exposure and private sorrow.
There is a practical consequence to this shape of record: for anyone researching Gladys specifically, the path is different from the usual route through press clippings and professional directories. Instead, the trace is domestic—guestbook notes, memorial photographs, family-tree entries. Those are the ledger lines left behind.
What can be said—and what remains unknowable
We can list: name, nickname, birth date, death date, parents’ names, the existence of a well-known sibling, the date of a sibling’s death by violence. We can count: four pivotal years that bracket a lifetime and mark dramatic moments. We can arrange facts into tables, and we can describe the shape of public record: small, concentrated, and family-centered.
But full biographies require more than dates. They require the long work of local archives, personal testimony, and records that are not always indexed on the internet. For Gladys, those deeper layers are simply not present in the widely accessible record. The life that remains on display is a handful of dates and a handful of human touches—a nickname, family relationships, a place in a sibling’s narrative. It is a portrait in charcoal: clear in outline, spare on the details, evocative in its restraint.
