I was quite devastated by Kurt vonnegut’s death. He was my favorite writer at the time and I was already going through a really hard period of my life when I read that he passed away.
Robert A. Heinlein – In so many ways his works helped me to shape myself, probably more than any other writer.
But, though Robin Williams didn’t help shape me, his death I felt because he was such an incredibly talented and incredibly decent person. It’s rare for someone so extraordinarily gifted to also be so very, very nice and caring and giving.
I was in Oregon Inlet NC after a phenomenal day of offshore fishing. At the fish cleaning station a couple of my friends came over and before I could say a word about the awesome day of fishing they told me Jerry Garcia had passed and then walked away. I was absolutely crushed and confused at the same time. Music as I knew it died that day;(
Robin Williams’ death absolutely devastated me. He’s always been my favorite comic, I loved his dramatic turns in movies, he was an incredible human being and, apparently, he suffered from some of the same mental issues as I do. We had plans to see him someday and, even now, I can not watch new material, that I’ve never seen before, with him in it. Just writing this, as ridiculous as it sounds, still packs a visceral punch to the gut. Dear God.
Other than that, I think Heath Ledger and River Phoenix were both pretty astonishing. The former because he was such an industry and critical darling. I loved his work and he was destined for greatness. The latter because of some the same, but mostly due to the fact that I completely fell for his anti-drug stance. It would not permeate my brain that he was anything beyond the most squeaky clean young man to ever grace Hollywood. Both so heartbreaking and tragic.
John Lennon’s death was shocking. I was only 12 and hadn’t really discovered the Beatles yet. I knew the songs but it was a little latter that I would play the red and blue albums over and over. When my parents woke me up for school the next day they both woke me up with the news. I could see it greatly affected them. They were both fans of an earlier style of music and never got on the rock bandwagon but they were devastated. I remember after school hurrying home to listen to NYC rock DJ Scott Muni because he was friends with Lennon and I wanted to hear what he had to say and listen to the music. It was the first celebrity death I remember meaning anything to me.
The one that hit me hardest personally was Stevie Ray Vaughn. I saw him live 7 times in 4 states. I once travelled from Maryland to Massachusetts just to see him play. I happened to run into him as he was walking from his tour bus to the venue. I got his autograph. He was a tremendous talent and he was branching out into different styles when he died. Remember, he was the guitar player on Bowie’s Let’s Dance album. It would have been interesting to see where he was going to go.
None, really. I couldn’t name a writer or performer who I cared about as a person since I have never known any personally. All I ever knew was their work and their work remains. I liked David Bowie’s music very much and I can still listen to it. I can still watch Cary Grant’s movies. I can still read Mickey Spillane’s stories. They aren’t producing any new work, to be sure, but at some point the majority of living writers and performers usually retire anyway. Gene Hackman comes to mind as an example.
John Lennon has been the one I catch myself on. People like Stevie Ray Vaughn and Les Paul affected me as I reflected on their art and talent and innovation.
I will be a mess when Jeff Beck dies. He hasn’t slowed down a bit as a player and innovator.
Frank Zappa was the biggest. He had a huge, huge influence on my own musical path, both directly and indirectly through the other composers and performers he pointed me to. I would not be the same person I am today without all the things I learned from Zappa. Losing him was devastating.
Lennon and Harrison, of course, were terrible shocks. So was Hendrix–he was the first celebrity I really, really cared about to die. Bowie is on this level, too. I’m deeply shocked and saddened these last two days.
Many of those mentioned above.
But, to add, John Denver. I really enjoyed his upbeat lyrics.
Terry Pratchett for sure. He brought so much joy to my life.
Heath Ledger’s flame burned to solar flare levels before he died.
Johnny Cash and John Ritter on the same day. The pain and the laughter both gone.
Jim Henson. I was a sophomore in college when it happened, so my friends and I had grown up with Sesame Street and The Muppet Show; we were all pretty sad the day it happened. 25 years later, muppets in general make me sad, and seeing Kermit the Frog in particular can make me cry.
George Carlin and Steve Jobs. Sobbed like they were members of my family.
And now Bo, of course.
Freddie. I don’t think there’s much of a need for an explanation.
Constantino Romero. Because damn, I will go to my grave remembering That Voice… (if testosterone had a voice, it would have been that one)