In the relentless churn of late-night monologues and political satire, Stephen Colbert stands as a beacon of wit and resilience, turning chaos into comedy for millions. But away from the glaring lights of The Late Show, the 61-year-old host and his wife, Evelyn McGee-Colbert, have long embodied a quieter heroism—one rooted in faith, family, and unyielding empathy. Their latest chapter, a deeply personal one, unfolded far from New York’s bustling studios: the couple has quietly adopted a young girl who lost her parents in the devastating Texas floods of July 2025. “She’s our daughter now,” Colbert shared in a rare, heartfelt statement to close family and friends, his voice steady but eyes betraying the profound shift. This act of love, kept under wraps to shield their new daughter from the public eye, comes at a time when the Colberts are navigating their own evolving family dynamics, offering a powerful reminder that true strength often lies in the shadows.

The floods, which ravaged central Texas over the Fourth of July weekend, claimed over 100 lives and left communities like Kerr County reeling. Torrential rains swelled the Guadalupe River, sweeping away RVs, summer camps, and families in a matter of minutes. Among the survivors was 8-year-old Jenna Burgess, whose story gripped the nation: her parents, John and Sarah Burgess, perished while desperately trying to shield their sons from the raging waters. Jenna, staying at a nearby camp spared by the deluge, emerged as the sole immediate family member, her brothers still missing weeks later. As rescuers combed debris for answers, the Colberts—longtime advocates for children’s causes—learned of Jenna’s plight through church networks tied to Evelyn’s South Carolina roots. What began as a donation to relief efforts blossomed into something life-altering: a commitment to give this brave girl the stable, loving home she so desperately needed.

For the Colberts, this adoption isn’t just an expansion of their brood; it’s a testament to healing old wounds with new hope. The couple, married since 1993, has weathered personal storms, including the profound grief of a miscarriage early in their journey to parenthood. Though rarely discussed publicly, Colbert has alluded to those dark days in interviews, crediting Evelyn’s unwavering faith and their shared Catholic values for pulling them through. “Loss teaches you what matters most,” he reflected in a 2024 Rolling Stone profile. Now, with three grown children forging their own paths, welcoming Jenna feels like a full-circle moment—a chance to pour the abundance of their lives into a child who embodies the very resilience they admire.

From Charleston Courtship to Comedy Empire: The Colberts’ Enduring Partnership

Stephen Colbert’s rise from improv troupe alum to late-night titan is the stuff of showbiz legend, but it’s his partnership with Evelyn McGee that grounds the narrative. They met in 1990 at Charleston’s Spoleto Festival, during the premiere of Philip Glass’s opera Hydrogen Jukebox. Colbert, then a 26-year-old aspiring comedian fresh from Chicago’s Second City, spotted Evelyn—a poised 24-year-old from a prominent local family—across the room. “It was love at first sight, or at least first conversation,” he joked years later on The Late Show. Evelyn, daughter of civil litigator Joseph O. Dibona Jr. (of the firm Buist, Moore, Smythe & McGee), was studying speech pathology at the College of Charleston. Their whirlwind romance culminated in a 1993 wedding at St. Philip’s Episcopal Church, blending Colbert’s Midwestern roots with Evelyn’s Lowcountry heritage.

Evelyn’s influence on Stephen’s career can’t be overstated. While he honed his satirical edge on The Daily Show (1997-2005), she provided the emotional anchor, even appearing as his on-screen mom in the cult series Strangers with Candy. As The Colbert Report launched in 2005, catapulting him to fame with its faux-conservative persona, Evelyn managed the home front in Montclair, New Jersey, raising their young family amid the chaos of Emmy wins and White House Correspondents’ Dinners. “Evie’s the real MVP— she keeps the truthiness in check,” Colbert quipped in a 2015 New York Times piece. Together, they’ve co-produced projects like the 2020 film In & Of Itself, and in 2024, released Does This Taste Funny?, a Lowcountry cookbook celebrating Evelyn’s culinary prowess with recipes like shrimp and grits that evoke their Charleston honeymoon.

The Colberts’ net worth, estimated at $75 million, stems from Stephen’s CBS salary ($15 million annually), book deals (I Am America (And So Can You!) topped charts in 2007), and ventures like the 2010-2011 Colbert Super PAC satire that raised real funds for causes. Yet, they’ve funneled much of it back into philanthropy: the Colberts’ foundation supports literacy programs through the Stephen & Evie Colbert Charitable Fund, donating over $2 million since 2010. Evelyn, a former schoolteacher, champions education equity, often volunteering at Montclair’s local shelters. Their discreet approach to giving—eschewing red carpets for quiet check-writing—mirrors the adoption: no fanfare, just follow-through.

A Family Forged in Faith: The Colbert Kids and the Road to Four

Long before Jenna’s arrival, the Colberts built a tight-knit clan of three, raising them with a blend of humor, discipline, and devotion. Eldest Madeleine “Maddy” Colbert, born in 1995, was the trailblazer—a curious spirit who once had Jennifer Garner as a babysitter during her dad’s Daily Show days. Now 30, Maddy (who goes by Madeleine Carlisle professionally) channels her parents’ storytelling into journalism. A former contributor to The Atlantic and Time, she’s an associate producer at CBS’s 60 Minutes, rubbing elbows with dad at network events. “Maddy’s got that killer instinct for a story—takes after her mom,” Colbert beamed at the 2023 Emmys. Her 2022 wedding in Charleston drew the family together for a Lowcountry luau, complete with Evelyn’s famed oyster roast.

Middle child Peter, 27, embodies the low-key Colbert vibe. Born in 1998, he dipped into showbiz with a cameo as a “Laketown Spy” in 2013’s The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug—a nod to Stephen’s Tolkien obsession. Today, Peter’s behind the scenes, studying film production at NYU Tisch and interning on indie sets in Brooklyn. “He’s the fixer—the one who keeps the chaos organized,” Evelyn shared in a 2021 People interview. The family enforces “no-TV weekdays” rules, a holdover from Peter’s toddler tantrums over SpongeBob, fostering board games and Colbert family improv nights.

Youngest John, 21, rounds out the trio with boundless energy. Born in 2004, he’s the athlete, captaining his high school lacrosse team before heading to Georgetown for a business degree. John’s quick wit shines in viral TikToks parodying dad’s monologues, amassing 500,000 followers. At the 2024 White House Correspondents’ Dinner, he quipped to press, “Dad roasts presidents; I just try not to spill the punch.” The siblings’ bond, tested by Stephen’s grueling schedule, thrives on annual retreats to their South Carolina beach house—fishing trips where Evelyn’s crab boils spark deep talks.

Jenna’s integration has been seamless, sources say. At 8, she’s a pint-sized firecracker with a laugh that echoes Madeleine’s, diving into puzzles and piano lessons Evelyn tailors from her teaching days. “The boys adore her—Peter’s already plotting Hobbit marathons,” a family insider noted. The adoption, finalized in late September 2025 through New Jersey’s family courts with Texas social services coordination, emphasizes normalcy: no paparazzi, just PTA meetings and soccer practices. For the Colberts, who’ve homeschooled during pandemics and navigated Stephen’s 2017 appendectomy scare, this feels like destiny.

Waves of the Heart: The Texas Floods and a Nation’s Reckoning

The July 2025 floods weren’t just a weather event; they were a gut-punch to Texas’s heartland. Over 48 hours, 20 inches of rain pummeled the Hill Country, turning the Guadalupe River into a monster that devoured campsites and highways. Kerr County’s Blue Oak RV Park, a holiday haven, saw 87 fatalities—families like the Burgesses, picnicking for Independence Day, swept away in seconds. Jenna’s dad, John, a 42-year-old oil rig foreman, clung to a tree with his sons, 10 and 6, buying precious time for rescuers. Sarah, 39, a school aide, whispered final “I love yous” as waters rose. Jenna, at a girls’ camp 2 miles away, learned of the horror via frantic calls—her survival a miracle amid 120 confirmed deaths.

The disaster exposed infrastructure woes: aging dams, underfunded levees, and climate-fueled extremes that experts like NOAA’s Dr. Maria Torres warned of in 2024 briefings. Over $5 billion in damages followed, with 10,000 displaced. Celebrities stepped up—Miranda Lambert’s $500,000 to Blue Bell Creameries’ relief fund, Maren Morris’s Austin concert netting $1 million—but viral hoaxes muddied the waters, falsely claiming stars like Luke Bryan or Jalen Hurts adopted orphans for clicks. The Colberts’ real, understated move cuts through the noise: partnering with Catholic Charities for Jenna’s transition, they’ve pledged $250,000 to Texas orphan funds, anonymously.

Social media lit up with support once whispers leaked—#ColbertCompassion trended briefly, fans sharing flood survivor stories. “Stephen’s satire heals the headlines, but this? This heals hearts,” one tweeted. Yet, the family requests privacy: no Late Show segments, just quiet integration.

Echoes of Empathy: What Jenna’s Adoption Means for the Colberts’ Legacy

At its core, the Colberts’ story with Jenna is about redemption amid ruin. Stephen, who lost his father and brothers in a 1974 plane crash at age 10, has long channeled grief into grace—founding the Red Cross Celebrity Cabinet post-9/11, hosting 2010 Haiti telethons. Evelyn, whose Lowcountry lineage traces to Revolutionary War patriots, instills service: their home library brims with books on resilience, from Viktor Frankl to Anne of Green Gables. “Adoption isn’t rescue; it’s revelation—seeing your capacity for love anew,” Evelyn penned in the couple’s cookbook foreword.

As The Late Show winds toward its 2026 finale—Colbert eyeing Broadway or podcasts—the family pivots homeward. Jenna’s arrival coincides with John’s college send-off and Maddy’s potential CBS anchor bid, weaving fresh threads into their tapestry. “We’ve got four now—chaos times two,” Stephen joked at a recent church fundraiser. But beneath the humor lies truth: in a divided world, the Colberts prove family transcends blood, floods, or fame.

This quiet adoption isn’t headline fodder; it’s a heartbeat—one family’s flood of love against nature’s fury. As Jenna settles into bedtime stories and sibling squabbles, the Colberts remind us: the best stories aren’t scripted. They’re lived, one compassionate choice at a time.