Later in life, he lived in Washington Twp., and owned a donut shop in Oakland County — originally in Rochester and moved to Lake Orion in 1983 — since his retirement from baseball in 1979.

Signed by the Tigers in 1958, Lolich started 496 of his 586 career games over a 16-year Major League Baseball career, with 508 of those games coming with the Tigers between 1963 and 1975.

At the time of his retirement in 1979 — after two seasons with the Padres — Lolich’s 2,832 strikeouts were an MLB record for a left-handed pitcher, but that mark has been surpassed by four pitchers since: Hall of Famers Steve Carlton, Randy Johnson and CC Sabathia, and soon-to-be Hall of Famer Clayton Kershaw.

Lolich held the Tigers franchise’s single-game strikeout record (16, twice) until it was broken by Anibal Sanchez (17) in 2013.

At the anniversary celebration of the 1968 World Series win in 2013, Lolich recalled tuning in to the game the night his record was broken.

“That game was the night I was supposed to come back from Florida, so I was busy packing the car,” the then-72-year-old Lolich said later that year, admitting he was only paying half attention to the game, considering his more pressing task, which was complicated when he began to feel unwell.

He didn’t know Sanchez had accomplished it until he checked the recap of the game on the computer after the car was fully packed.

“I really didn’t think it would be Sanchez who broke it,’ Lolich admitted. ‘I used to think it would be Jack Morris. And then I thought (Justin) Verlander. Then I had to start leaning toward (Max) Scherzer, considering what he’s done. But I didn’t think it would be Sanchez.”

A three-time All-Star (1969, 1971, 1972), Lolich twice finished in the top three in American League Cy Young voting (second in 1971 and third in 1972) and in the top 10 in MVP voting (fifth in 1971 and 10th in 1972).

The pinnacle, of course, was his three complete-game wins in the 1968 World Series, including a Game 7 win over eventual Hall of Famer Bob Gibson in Game 7.

That season didn’t go completely smoothly, though, as he had to work through a midseason issue.

“It’s funny. I was having a little bit of a problem during the season where I wasn’t pitching too good, and Mayo Smith took me out in the outfield and told me I was going to the bullpen, which really upset me. He says, ‘I want you to go down there and get yourself straightened out.’ I says, ‘Well, I’m going to get myself straightened out, because you’re going to need me. I’m going to win this thing for you,’” Lolich, who won MVP honors in the 1968 World Series, recalled in 2013.

“Well, it wasn’t so much I won the pennant for us, but those other 10 days after the season – I did a halfway-decent job for ’em.”

Willie Horton remembered his former teammate in a message posted to X (formerly Twitter) by the Tigers:

“Lolich was a great pitcher, teammate and champion, but he was more than that to me. He was like a brother for over 60 years. I will keep the memories close to my heart and will never forget the close bond we shared. My condolences to Joyce and their familly, and everyone who loved him.”

U.S. Sen. Elissa Slotkin announced Sunday the death of her father, Curt Slotkin, following a two-year cancer battle.

Curt Slotkin, 81, of Bloomfield Hills, died on Jan. 20, and a funeral was held Friday, according to his obituary.

“He fought hard, but was ready to go, and we were with him at home when he passed away,” Slotkin wrote in a statement released Sunday.

Curt Slotkin was part of the family meat business started by the senator’s great-grandfather. Hygrade Foods created the iconic Ballpark Franks, first sold at Tiger Stadium.

Elissa Slotkin, a Holly Democrat, often spoke of her father on the campaign trail in telling the story of growing up in a Michigan household that was politically split with a Republican dad and her Democratic mother.

“There is no single person in my life who taught me more about integrity and decency than my dad. And no one who shaped me more as a person,” Slotkin said in her statement, referring to an article she wrote about him several years ago.

“In a complicated world, my dad had four, uncomplicated loves: Family. Friends. Farm. Food. And the absolute peak of his happiness was when his four of his loves were together at the same time: grilling a great piece of meat for his family and friends at the farm,” Slotkin wrote.

“One of the great lessons I take from his life is to find your 3 or 4 loves and focus on them consistently and intensely. Do that and your life will be well-lived.”

©2026 The Detroit News. Visit detroitnews.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.

agraham@detroitnews.com

If they came through town, Ken Settle photographed them.

The Rolling Stones, Soundgarden, U2, Guns N’ Roses, David Bowie, Prince, Stevie Ray Vaughn, B.B. King, Kiss, Metallica, the list goes on. And that’s to say nothing of homegrown superstars like Alice Cooper, Madonna and Bob Seger.

For more than 40 years, Ken Settle was a fixture at local concert venues of every size, from small clubs to supersize stadiums. The acclaimed rock photographer died Monday, according to a post on his Facebook page. He was 66.

Settle, known for his poof of blond hair parted in the middle, was born in Trenton and grew up in Westland. He shot Bob Seger when he was just 11 years old, when the longhaired rocker was playing a softball game against the staffers from WRIF-FM (101.1). He asked Seger if he could take his picture and Seger agreed.

A few months later, Settle borrowed his father’s camera and popped off some shots of Creedence Clearwater Revival at Cobo Hall, and it was there that he was bitten by the rock photographer bug.

“I remember walking down the aisle on the main floor of Cobo to get a bit closer to the stage, and I took a handful of fairly blurry, not-so-good photos,” Settle told WCSX-FM (94.7) in 2023. “But the energy and excitement of live music at Cobo Arena was electric and it was such a thrill to try to capture that — even in my little kid’s way of doing so.”

From there, he shot a ton of early Seger shows, when Seger and his band were working their way up the local ladder, and Settle in turn became a staple in photo pits at local concerts from artists of all ranks. His work appeared in Rolling Stone, Creem, Playboy, People, Guitar Player and other publications across the globe, as well as locally in MediaNews Group’s Michigan publications, including The Oakland Press and the Macomb Daily.

“Ken was one of the best shooters ever,” says Scott Legato, a fellow rock photographer who shared photo pits with Settle over the last 20 years. “He was just a great guy. He had a big heart, and he loved his cats.”

In addition to his cats — he had several, and was known for taking in strays — Settle also had an extensive collection of guitars and amplifiers.

“Ken was awesome. Nice guy, always helpful, always great to be around,” says Chris Schwegler, a fellow photographer who shot concerts with Settle for years and considered him a good friend. He says he would talk to Settle two to three times a week and was just texting with him the other day, helping him out with a computer problem.

As a photographer, “Ken knew what looked good for a photo, no matter who the artist was,” says Schwegler. “He knew the shot he wanted to get, and he knew how to get it.”

Settle’s photo archives are vast, culled from thousands of shows, from Nirvana to Nicki Minaj, from Janet Jackson to John Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen to Lil Wayne. His photos have been hung in Hard Rock Cafes around the world, and his shots were used in episodes of VH1’s “Behind the Music.”

He captured artists on stage from the 1970s through the 2010s, as photography went from film to digital, as artist rules went from shoot-the-whole-show to just the first three songs. His images are a history of live music in Detroit.

Settle came up shooting film and was a holdout on switching to digital for a long time, and that discipline made him a better photographer, says Legato.

“He had a good eye. He could anticipate the shot and get the shot,” he says. Legato helped convince him to go to digital, he says, but Settle “still had the mindset that he was shooting film.”

Friends say Settle had complained of experiencing shooting pain in recent weeks, but he was hesitant to go to the doctor.

He had slowed down from shooting rock concerts after COVID-19, but was still active on social media, and tributes poured into Settle’s Facebook page following news of his death.

Steve Galli, a fellow rock photographer who had known Settle since the late 1970s, said Settle was one of the best shooters in the business.

“He was known all over. When I started traveling out of state to cover music fests, other photographers would say to me, ‘You’re from Detroit, you must know Ken Settle,’” says Galli. “Photographers from all over the country associated Detroit with Ken Settle.”

When other photographers were gathered front and center in front of the stage at a concert, “he’d be way over on the side, getting an angle no other photographer was getting,” Galli says.

Galli says he remembers being in photo pits waiting for Settle to show up, wondering if he was going to miss the show, only to see him emerge from the backstage area, where he had been shooting portraits of the artists before the concert began.

“We were thinking he missed out, when it was us missing out,” he says.

Settle was always helpful to newcomers, Galli says, and would freely share information and tips of the trade with others.

“He was such a nice person, a really bighearted guy,” says Galli. “Ken was a legend.”

Sheetz died from respiratory complications after being hospitalized on Dec. 28, according to the Altoona Mirror.

He was treated for pneumonia for two weeks last month before returning home on Christmas Eve. He returned to the hospital days later.

Sheetz had also been diagnosed with leukemia in 2011.

An Altoona native, Sheetz started working for Sheetz Kwik Shopper, which his brother older Bob founded, at the age of 12. After graduating from Penn State, he was named the supervisor and director of operations for the company’s four locations in 1969.

The brothers continued to expand with Stephen Sheetz serving as CEO from 1984 to 1995 after his brother Bob retired.

He served as the company’s chairman of the board from 1995 until 2013 before becoming the chairman of Sheetz’s new petroleum transportation company. He retired in 2020.

Sheetz now has about 27,000 employees at its more-than 800 stores in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, West Virginia, Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina.

Stephen Sheetz and wife Nancy also started a program to provide mentorship and financial support and scholarships to Penn State Altoona students with leadership potential, and another program to encourage entrepreneurship in his native city. The couple were also known to frequently make financial gifts to other local charities and organizations.

“Above all, uncle Steve was the center of our family,” said Travis Sheetz, current president and CEO of the company. “We are so deeply grateful for his leadership, vision and steadfast commitment to our employees, customers and communities.”

PARIS (AP) — Brigitte Bardot, the French 1960s sex symbol who became one of the greatest screen sirens of the 20th century and later a militant animal rights activist and far-right supporter, has died. She was 91.

Bardot died Sunday at her home in southern France, according to Bruno Jacquelin, of the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the protection of animals. Speaking to The Associated Press, he gave no cause of death, and said no arrangements have yet been made for funeral or memorial services. She had been hospitalized last month.

Bardot became an international celebrity as a sexualized teen bride in the 1956 movie “And God Created Woman.” Directed by her then-husband, Roger Vadim, it triggered a scandal with scenes of the long-legged beauty dancing on tables naked.

At the height of a cinema career that spanned some 28 films and three marriages, Bardot came to symbolize a nation bursting out of bourgeois respectability. Her tousled, blond hair, voluptuous figure and pouty irreverence made her one of France’s best-known stars.

Such was her widespread appeal that in 1969 her features were chosen to be the model for “Marianne,” the national emblem of France and the official Gallic seal. Bardot’s face appeared on statues, postage stamps and even on coins.

‘’We are mourning a legend,” French President Emmanuel Macron wrote Sunday on X.

Bardot’s second career as an animal rights activist was equally sensational. She traveled to the Arctic to blow the whistle on the slaughter of baby seals; she condemned the use of animals in laboratory experiments; and she opposed Muslim slaughter rituals.

“Man is an insatiable predator,” Bardot told The Associated Press on her 73rd birthday, in 2007. “I don’t care about my past glory. That means nothing in the face of an animal that suffers, since it has no power, no words to defend itself.”

Her activism earned her compatriots’ respect and, in 1985, she was awarded the Legion of Honor, the nation’s highest recognition.

A turn to the far right

Later, however, she fell from public grace as her animal protection diatribes took on a decidedly extremist tone. She frequently decried the influx of immigrants into France, especially Muslims.

She was convicted and fined five times in French courts of inciting racial hatred, in incidents inspired by her opposition to the Muslim practice of slaughtering sheep during annual religious holidays.

Bardot’s 1992 marriage to fourth husband Bernard d’Ormale, a onetime adviser to National Front leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, contributed to her political shift. She described Le Pen, an outspoken nationalist with multiple racism convictions of his own, as a “lovely, intelligent man.”

In 2012, she wrote a letter in support of the presidential bid of Marine Le Pen, who now leads her father’s renamed National Rally party. Le Pen paid homage Sunday to an “exceptional woman” who was “incredibly French.”

In 2018, at the height of the #MeToo movement, Bardot said in an interview that most actors protesting sexual harassment in the film industry were “hypocritical” and “ridiculous” because many played “the teases” with producers to land parts.

She said she had never had been a victim of sexual harassment and found it “charming to be told that I was beautiful or that I had a nice little ass.”

A privileged, but ‘difficult’ upbringing

Brigitte Anne-Marie Bardot was born Sept. 28, 1934, to a wealthy industrialist. A shy, secretive child, she studied classical ballet and was discovered by a family friend who put her on the cover of Elle magazine at age 14.

Bardot once described her childhood as “difficult” and said her father was a strict disciplinarian who would sometimes punish her with a horse whip.

But it was French movie producer Vadim, whom she married in 1952, who saw her potential and wrote “And God Created Woman” to showcase her provocative sensuality, an explosive cocktail of childlike innocence and raw sexuality.

The film, which portrayed Bardot as a bored newlywed who beds her brother-in-law, had a decisive influence on New Wave directors Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut, and came to embody the hedonism and sexual freedom of the 1960s.

The film was a box-office hit, and it made Bardot a superstar. Her girlish pout, tiny waist and generous bust were often more appreciated than her talent.

“It’s an embarrassment to have acted so badly,” Bardot said of her early films. “I suffered a lot in the beginning. I was really treated like someone less than nothing.”

Bardot’s unabashed, off-screen love affair with co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant further shocked the nation. It eradicated the boundaries between her public and private life and turned her into a hot prize for paparazzi.

Bardot never adjusted to the limelight. She blamed the constant press attention for the suicide attempt that followed 10 months after the birth of her only child, Nicolas. Photographers had broken into her house two weeks before she gave birth to snap a picture of her pregnant.

Nicolas’ father was Jacques Charrier, a French actor whom she married in 1959 but who never felt comfortable in his role as Monsieur Bardot. Bardot soon gave up her son to his father, and later said she had been chronically depressed and unready for the duties of being a mother.

“I was looking for roots then,” she said in an interview. “I had none to offer.”

In her 1996 autobiography “Initiales B.B.,” she likened her pregnancy to “a tumor growing inside me,” and described Charrier as “temperamental and abusive.”

Bardot married her third husband, West German millionaire playboy Gunther Sachs, in 1966, but the relationship again ended in divorce three years later.

Among her films were “A Parisian” (1957); “In Case of Misfortune,” in which she starred in 1958 with screen legend Jean Gabin; “The Truth” (1960); “Private Life” (1962); “A Ravishing Idiot” (1964); “Shalako” (1968); “Women” (1969); “The Bear And The Doll” (1970); “Rum Boulevard” (1971); and “Don Juan” (1973).

With the exception of 1963’s critically acclaimed “Contempt,” directed by Godard, Bardot’s films were rarely complicated by plots. Often they were vehicles to display Bardot in scanty dresses or frolicking nude in the sun.

“It was never a great passion of mine,” she said of filmmaking. “And it can be deadly sometimes. Marilyn (Monroe) perished because of it.”

Bardot retired to her Riviera villa in St. Tropez at the age of 39 in 1973 after “The Woman Grabber.”

Reinventing herself in middle age

She emerged a decade later with a new persona: An animal rights lobbyist, her face was wrinkled and her voice was deep following years of heavy smoking. She abandoned her jet-set life and sold off movie memorabilia and jewelry to create a foundation devoted exclusively to the prevention of animal cruelty.

Her activism knew no borders. She urged South Korea to ban the sale of dog meat and once wrote to U.S. President Bill Clinton asking why the U.S. Navy recaptured two dolphins it had released into the wild.

She attacked centuries-old French and Italian sporting traditions including the Palio, a free-for-all horse race, and campaigned on behalf of wolves, rabbits, kittens and turtle doves.

“It’s true that sometimes I get carried away, but when I see how slowly things move forward … my distress takes over,” Bardot told the AP when asked about her racial hatred convictions and opposition to Muslim ritual slaughter,

In 1997, several towns removed Bardot-inspired statues of Marianne after the actress voiced anti-immigrant sentiment. Also that year, she received death threats after calling for a ban on the sale of horse meat.

Bardot once said that she identified with the animals that she was trying to save.

“I can understand hunted animals because of the way I was treated,” Bardot said. “What happened to me was inhuman. I was constantly surrounded by the world press.”

___

Ganley contributed to this story before her retirement. Angela Charlton in Paris contributed to this report.

Gil Gerard, who played television’s hunky sci-fi hero William “Buck” Rogers soon after the Star Wars franchise took hold in the late 1970s, has died. He was 82.

Gerard died Tuesday in hospice as a result of a rare, aggressive form of cancer, said his manager, Tina Presley Borek. His wife, Janet Gerard, posted a posthumous Facebook message he left behind for fans that read in part:

“Don’t waste your time on anything that doesn’t thrill you or bring you love. See you out somewhere in the cosmos.”

Gerard starred in NBC’s campy “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century,” which ran for two seasons from 1979 to 1981. A theatrical film based on the series also delighted youngsters and their parents alike. It was Rogers’ second turn on TV after a show in the 1950s, a radio series and a 1939 film serial.

The story was based on Philip Francis Nowlan’s serialized 1928 pulp novella “Armageddon 2419 A.D.” Nowlan’s character was named Anthony Rogers. The name was changed when the story began running in newspapers as a comic strip.

“My life has been an amazing journey,” Gerard wrote in his social media post. “The opportunities I’ve had, the people I’ve met and the love I have given and received have made my 82 years on the planet deeply satisfying.”

As the TV story goes, Rogers was a 20th century NASA pilot who was placed in frozen animation when his ship was hit by a meteor storm. He pops awake 500 years later in the year 2491. He gazes upon a futuristic, domed Earth with all its threats, including aliens, space pilots and the evil Draconians.

He had helpers: The robot sidekick Twiki and a beautiful space pilot Wilma Deering, played by Erin Gray.

A native of Little Rock, Arkansas, Gerard worked steadily in TV commercials. He was featured in a number of other TV shows and movies, including starring roles in the 1982 TV movie “Hear No Evil” as Dragon and the short-lived “Sidekicks” in 1986.

In 1992, he hosted the reality series “Code 3,” following firefighters responding to emergency calls around the U.S. There were many guest appearances in the 1990s, including on “Days of Our Lives.”

Gerard and Gray were together again in 2007 for the TV film “Nuclear Hurricane.” They also returned to the Buck Rogers universe as Rogers’ parents in the pilot episode of James Cawley’s “Buck Rogers Begins” internet video series in 2009.

Gerard spoke openly about addictions to drugs, alcohol and compulsive overeating. He was the subject of a one-hour documentary, “Action Hero Makeover,” in 2007 after his weight ballooned to 350 pounds.

Done by Adrienne Crow, then a longtime companion, for the Discovery Health Channel, the film documented his progress after gastric bypass surgery.

Gerard was married and divorced four times before Janet. He had a son, actor Gilbert Vincent Gerard, with model and actor Connie Sellecca. Their divorce included a bitter custody battle for “Gib,” who was born in 1981. Sellecca was granted main custody.

“My journey has taken me from Arkansas to New York to Los Angeles, and finally, to my home in North Georgia with my amazing wife, Janet, of 18 years,” Gerard wrote in the post put on Facebook after his death.

“It’s been a great ride, but inevitably one that comes to a close as mine has.”

Reiner and his wife, Michele Singer, were found dead Sunday at their home in the Brentwood neighborhood of Los Angeles. A law enforcement official briefed on the investigation confirmed that Reiner and Singer were the victims. The official could not publicly discuss details of the investigation and spoke to The Associated Press on condition of anonymity.

Authorities were investigating an “apparent homicide,” said Capt. Mike Bland with the Los Angeles Police Department. The Los Angeles Fire Department said it responded to a medical aid request shortly after 3:30 p.m.

Reiner grew up thinking his father, Carl Reiner, didn’t understand him or find him funny. But the younger Reiner would in many ways follow in his father’s footsteps, working both in front and behind the camera, in comedies that stretched from broad sketch work to accomplished dramedies.

“My father thought, ‘Oh, my God, this poor kid is worried about being in the shadow of a famous father,’” Reiner said, recalling the temptation to change his name to “60 Minutes” in October. “And he says, ‘What do you want to change your name to?’ And I said, ‘Carl.’ I just wanted to be like him.”

After starting out as a writer for “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour,” Reiner’s breakthrough came when he was, at age 23, cast in Norman Lear’s “All in the Family” as Archie Bunker’s liberal son-in-law, Michael “Meathead” Stivic. But by the 1980s, Reiner began as a feature film director, churning out some of the most beloved films of that, or any, era. His first film, the largely improvised 1984 cult classic “This Is Spinal Tap,” remains the urtext mockumentary.

After the 1985 John Cusack summer comedy, “The Sure Thing,” Reiner made “Stand By Me” (1986), “The Princess Bride” (1987) and “When Harry Met Sally …” (1989), a four-year stretch that resulted in a trio of American classics, all of them among the most often quoted movies of the 20th century.

A legacy on and off screen

For the next four decades, Reiner, a warm and gregarious presence on screen and an outspoken liberal advocate off it, remained a constant fixture in Hollywood. The production company he co-founded, Castle Rock Entertainment, launched an enviable string of hits, including “Seinfeld” and “The Shawshank Redemption.” By the turn of the century, its success rate had fallen considerably, but Reiner revived it earlier this decade. This fall, Reiner and Castle Rock released the long-in-coming sequel “Spinal Tap II: The End Continues.”

All the while, Reiner was one of the film industry’s most passionate Democrat activists, regularly hosting fundraisers and campaigning for liberal issues. He was co-founder of the American Foundation for Equal Rights, which challenged in court California’s ban on same-sex marriage, Proposition 8. He also chaired the campaign for Prop 10, a California initiative to fund early childhood development services with a tax on tobacco products. Reiner was also a critic of President Donald Trump.

That ran in the family, too. Reiner’s father opposed the Communist hunt of McCarthyism in the 1950s and his mother, Estelle Reiner, a singer and actor, protested the Vietnam War.

“If you’re a nepo baby, doors will open,” Reiner told the Guardian in 2024. “But you have to deliver. If you don’t deliver, the door will close just as fast as it opened.”

‘All in the Family’ to ‘Stand By Me’

Robert Reiner was born in the Bronx on March 6, 1947. As a young man, he quickly set out to follow his father into entertainment. He studied at the University of California, Los Angeles film school and, in the 1960s, began appearing in small parts in various television shows.

But when Lear saw Reiner as a key cast member in “All in the Family,” it came as a surprise to the elder Reiner.

“Norman says to my dad, ‘You know, this kid is really funny.’ And I think my dad said, ‘What? That kid? That kid? He’s sullen. He sits quiet. He doesn’t, you know, he’s not funny.’ He didn’t think I was anyway,” Reiner told “60 Minutes.”

On “All in the Family,” Reiner served as a pivotal foil to Carroll O’Connor’s bigoted, conservative Archie Bunker. Reiner was five times nominated for an Emmy for his performance on the show, winning in 1974 and 1978. In Lear, Reiner also found a mentor. He called him “a second father.”

“It wasn’t just that he hired me for ‘All in the Family,’” Reiner told “American Masters” in 2005. “It was that I saw, in how he conducted his life, that there was room to be an activist as well. That you could use your celebrity, your good fortune, to help make some change.”

Lear also helped launch Reiner as a filmmaker. He put $7.5 million of his own money to help finance “Stand By Me,” Reiner’s adaptation of the Stephen King novella “The Body.” The movie, about four boys who go looking for the dead body of a missing boy, became a coming-of-age classic, made breakthroughs of its young cast (particularly River Phoenix) and even earned the praise of King.

With his stock rising, Reiner devoted himself to adapting William Goldman’s 1973’s “The Princess Bride,” a book Reiner had loved since his father gave him a copy as a gift. Everyone from François Truffaut to Robert Redford had considered adapting Goldman’s book, but it ultimately fell to Reiner (from Goldman’s own script) to capture the unique comic tone of “The Princess Bride.” But only once he had Goldman’s blessing.

“At the door he greeted me and he said, ‘This is my baby. I want this on my tombstone. This is my favorite thing I’ve ever written in my life. What are you going to do with it?’” Reiner recalled in a Television Academy interview. “And we sat down with him and started going through what I thought should be done with the film.”

Though only a modest success in theaters, the movie — starring Cary Elwes, Mandy Patinkin, Wallace Shawn, André the Giant and Robin Wright — would grow in stature over the years, leading to countless impressions of Inigo Montoya’s vow of revenge and the risky nature of land wars in Asia.

‘When Harry Met Sally …”

Reiner was married to Penny Marshall, the actor and filmmaker, for 10 years beginning in 1971. Like Reiner, Marshall experienced sitcom fame, with “Laverne & Shirley,” but found a more lasting legacy behind the camera.

After their divorce, Reiner, at a lunch with Nora Ephron, suggested a comedy about dating. In writing what became “When Harry Met Sally …” Ephron and Reiner charted a relationship between a man and a woman (played in the film by Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan) over the course of 12 years.

Along the way, the movie’s ending changed, as did some of the film’s indelible moments. The famous line, “I’ll have what she’s having,” said after witnessing Ryan’s fake orgasm at Katz’s Delicatessen, was a suggestion by Crystal — delivered by none other than Reiner’s mother, Estelle.

The movie’s happy ending also had some real-life basis. Reiner met Singer, a photographer, on the set of “When Harry Met Sally …” In 1989, they were wed. They had three children together: Nick, Jake and Romy.

Reiner’s subsequent films included another King adaptation, “Misery” (1990) and a pair of Aaron Sorkin-penned dramas: the military courtroom tale “A Few Good Men” (1992) and 1995’s “The American President.”

By the late ’90s, Reiner’s films (1996’s “Ghosts of Mississippi,” 2007’s “The Bucket List”) no longer had the same success rate. But he remained a frequent actor, often memorably enlivening films like “Sleepless in Seattle” (1993) and “The Wolf of Wall Street” (2013). In 2023, he directed the documentary “Albert Brooks: Defending My Life.”

In an interview earlier this year with Seth Rogen, Reiner suggested everything in his career boiled down to one thing.

“All I’ve ever done is say, ‘Is this something that is an extension of me?’ For ‘Stand by Me,’ I didn’t know if it was going to be successful or not. All I thought was, ‘I like this because I know what it feels like.’”

Redford died “at his home at Sundance in the mountains of Utah — the place he loved, surrounded by those he loved,” publicist Cindi Berger said in a statement. No cause of death was provided.

After rising to stardom in the 1960s, Redford was one of the biggest stars of the ’70s with such films as “The Candidate,” “All the President’s Men” and “The Way We Were,” capping that decade with the best director Oscar for 1980’s “Ordinary People,” which also won best picture in 1980. His wavy blond hair and boyish grin made him the most desired of leading men, but he worked hard to transcend his looks — whether through his political advocacy, his willingness to take on unglamorous roles or his dedication to providing a platform for low-budget movies.

His roles ranged from Washington Post journalist Bob Woodward to a mountain man in “Jeremiah Johnson” to a double agent in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and his co-stars included Jane Fonda, Meryl Streep and Tom Cruise. But his most famous screen partner was his old friend and fellow activist and practical joker Paul Newman, their films a variation of their warm, teasing relationship off screen. Redford played the wily outlaw opposite Newman in 1969’s “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” a box-office smash from which Redford’s Sundance Institute and festival got its name. He also teamed with Newman on 1973’s best picture Oscar winner, “The Sting,” which earned Redford a best-actor nomination as a young con artist in 1930s Chicago.

Film roles after the ’70s became more sporadic as Redford concentrated on directing and producing, and his new role as patriarch of the independent-film movement in the 1980s and ’90s through his Sundance Institute. But he starred in 1985’s best picture champion “Out of Africa” and in 2013 received some of the best reviews of his career as a shipwrecked sailor in “All is Lost,” in which he was the film’s only performer. In 2018, he was praised again in what he called his farewell movie, “The Old Man and the Gun.”

“I just figure that I’ve had a long career that I’m very pleased with. It’s been so long, ever since I was 21,” he told The Associated Press shortly before the film came out. “I figure now as I’m getting into my 80s, it’s maybe time to move toward retirement and spend more time with my wife and family.”

Sundance is born

Redford had watched Hollywood grow more cautious and controlling during the 1970s and wanted to recapture the creative spirit of the early part of the decade. Sundance was created to nurture new talent away from the pressures of Hollywood, the institute providing a training ground and the festival, based in Park City, Utah, where Redford had purchased land with the initial hope of opening a ski resort. Instead, Park City became a place of discovery for such previously unknown filmmakers as Quentin Tarantino, Steven Soderbergh, Paul Thomas Anderson and Darren Aronofsky.

“For me, the word to be underscored is ‘independence,’” Redford told the AP in 2018. “I’ve always believed in that word. That’s what led to me eventually wanting to create a category that supported independent artists who weren’t given a chance to be heard.

“The industry was pretty well controlled by the mainstream, which I was a part of. But I saw other stories out there that weren’t having a chance to be told and I thought, ‘Well, maybe I can commit my energies to giving those people a chance.’ As I look back on it, I feel very good about that.”

Sundance was even criticized as buyers swarmed in looking for potential hits and celebrities overran the town each winter.

“We have never, ever changed our policies for how we program our festival. It’s always been built on diversity,” Redford told the AP in 2004. “The fact is that the diversity has become commercial. Because independent films have achieved their own success, Hollywood, being just a business, is going to grab them. So when Hollywood grabs your films, they go, ‘Oh, it’s gone Hollywood.’”

Sundance Institute x Chicago opens soon, a front-row seat on the current moviemaking moment

By 2025, the festival had become so prominent that organizers decided they had outgrown Park City and approved relocating to Boulder, Colorado, starting in 2027. Redford, who had attended the University of Colorado in Boulder, issued a statement saying that “change is inevitable, we must always evolve and grow, which has been at the core of our survival.”

Redford was married twice, most recently to Sibylle Szaggars. He had four children, two of whom have died — Scott Anthony, who died in infancy, in 1959; and James Redford, an activist and filmmaker who died in 2020.

Redford’s early life

Robert Redford was born Charles Robert Redford Jr. on Aug. 18, 1937, in Santa Monica, a California boy whose blond good looks eased his way over an apprenticeship in television and live theater that eventually led to the big screen.

Redford attended college on a baseball scholarship and would later star as a middle-aged slugger in 1984’s “The Natural,” the adaptation of Bernard Malamud’s baseball novel. He had an early interest in drawing and painting, then went on to study at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, debuting on Broadway in the late 1950s and moving into television on such shows as “The Twilight Zone,” “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” and “The Untouchables.”

After scoring a Broadway lead in “Sunday in New York,” Redford was cast by director Mike Nichols in a production of Neil Simon’s “Barefoot in the Park,” later starring with Fonda in the film version. Redford did miss out on one of Nichols’ greatest successes, “The Graduate,” released in 1967. Nichols had considered casting Redford in the part eventually played by Dustin Hoffman, but Redford seemed unable to relate to the socially awkward young man who ends up having an affair with one of his parents’ friends.

“I said, ‘You can’t play it. You can never play a loser,’” Nichols said during a 2003 screening of the film in New York. “And Redford said, ‘What do you mean? Of course I can play a loser.’ And I said, ‘OK, have you ever struck out with a girl?’ and he said, ‘What do you mean?’ And he wasn’t joking.”

Bob Thomas, a longtime Associated Press journalist who died in 2014, was the principal writer of this obituary.

Souter died Thursday at his home in New Hampshire, the court said in a statement Friday.

He retired from the court in June 2009, giving President Barack Obama his first Supreme Court vacancy to fill. Obama, a Democrat, chose Sonia Sotomayor, the court’s first Latina justice.

Souter was appointed by Republican President George H.W. Bush in 1990. He was a reliably liberal vote on abortion, church-state relations, freedom of expression and the accessibility of federal courts.

In retirement, Souter warned that ignorance of how government works could undermine American democracy.

“What I worry about is that when problems are not addressed, people will not know who is responsible. And when the problems get bad enough … some one person will come forward and say, ‘Give me total power and I will solve this problem.’ That is how the Roman republic fell,” Souter said in a 2012 interview.

His lifestyle was spare — yogurt and an apple, consumed at his desk, was a typical lunch — and he shunned Washington’s social scene. He couldn’t wait to leave town in early summer. As soon as the court finished its work in late June, he climbed into his Volkswagen Jetta for the drive back to the worn farmhouse where his family moved when he was 11.

Yet for all his reserve, Souter was beloved by colleagues, court employees and friends. He was a noted storyteller and generous with his time.

“Justice David Souter served our Court with great distinction for nearly twenty years. He brought uncommon wisdom and kindness to a lifetime of public service,” Chief Justice John Roberts said. Souter continued hearing cases on the 1st U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals for more than a decade after he left the high court, Roberts said.

Gene Hackman, the prolific Oscar-winning actor whose studied portraits ranged from reluctant heroes to conniving villains and made him one of the industry’s most respected and honored performers, has been found dead along with his wife at their home. He was 95.

His dozens of films included Oscar-winning roles in “The French Connection” and “Unforgiven,” a breakout performance in “Bonnie and Clyde,” a comic interlude in “Young Frankenstein,” a turn as the comic book villain Lex Luthor in “Superman” and the title character in Wes Anderson’s 2001 “The Royal Tenenbaums.”

He seemed capable of any kind of role — whether an uptight buffoon in “Birdcage,” a college coach finding redemption in the sentimental favorite “Hoosiers” or a secretive surveillance expert in Francis Ford Coppola’s Watergate-era release “The Conversation.”

“Gene Hackman a great actor, inspiring and magnificent in his work and complexity,” Coppola said on Instagram. “I mourn his loss, and celebrate his existence and contribution.”

Gene Hackman was one of the 20th century’s greatest actors. Here’s a list of his notable films

A plain-looking man with a receding hairline, Hackman held special status within Hollywood — heir to Spencer Tracy as an everyman, actor’s actor and reluctant celebrity. He embodied the ethic of doing his job, doing it very well, and letting others worry about his image. The industry seemed to need him more than he needed the industry. Beyond the obligatory appearances at awards ceremonies, he was rarely seen on the social circuit and made no secret of his disdain for the business side of show business.

“Actors tend to be shy people,” he told Film Comment in 1988. “There is perhaps a component of hostility in that shyness, and to reach a point where you don’t deal with others in a hostile or angry way, you choose this medium for yourself.”

He was an early retiree — essentially done, by choice, with movies by his 70s — and a late bloomer. Hackman was in his mid-30s when cast for “Bonnie and Clyde” and past 40 when he won his first Oscar, as the rules-bending New York detective “Popeye” Doyle in the 1971 thriller about tracking down Manhattan drug smugglers, “The French Connection.”

Jackie Gleason, Steve McQueen and Peter Boyle were among the actors considered for the role. Hackman was a minor star at the time, seemingly without the flamboyant personality that the role demanded. The actor himself feared that he was miscast. A couple of weeks of nighttime patrols of Harlem in police cars helped reassure him.

One of the first scenes of “The French Connection” required Hackman to slap around a suspect. The actor realized he had failed to achieve the intensity that the scene required, and asked director William Friedkin for another chance. The scene was filmed at the end of the shooting, by which time Hackman had immersed himself in the loose-cannon character of Popeye Doyle. Friedkin would recall needing 37 takes to get the scene right.

“I had to arouse an anger in Gene that was lying dormant, I felt, within him — that he was sort of ashamed of and didn’t really want to revisit,” Friedkin told the Los Angeles Review of Books in 2012.

Hackman also resisted the role which brought him his second Oscar. When Clint Eastwood first offered him Little Bill Daggett, the corrupt town boss in “Unforgiven,” Hackman turned it down. But he realized that Eastwood was planning to make a different kind of western, a critique, not a celebration of violence. The film won him the Academy Award as best supporting actor of 1992.

“To his credit, and my joy, he talked me into it,” Hackman said of Eastwood during an interview with the American Film Institute.

Eugene Alden Hackman was born Jan. 30, 1931, in San Bernardino, California, and grew up in Danville, Illinois, where his father worked as a pressman for the Commercial-News. His parents fought repeatedly, and his father often used his fists on Gene to take out his rage. The boy found refuge in movie houses, identifying with Errol Flynn and James Cagney as his role models.

When Gene was 13, his father waved goodbye and drove off, never to return. The abandonment was a lasting injury to Gene. His mother had become an alcoholic and was constantly at odds with her mother, with whom the shattered family lived (Gene had a younger brother). At 16, he “suddenly got the itch to get out.” Lying about his age, he enlisted in the U.S. Marines.

“Dysfunctional families have sired a lot of pretty good actors,” he observed ironically during a 2001 interview with The New York Times.

In 1956, Hackman married Fay Maltese, a bank teller he had met at a YMCA dance in New York. They had a son, Christopher, and two daughters, Elizabeth and Leslie, but divorced in the mid-1980s. In 1991 he married Betsy Arakawa, a classical pianist of Japanese descent who was raised in Hawaii.

When not on film locations, Hackman enjoyed painting, stunt flying, stock car racing and deep sea diving. In his latter years, he wrote novels and lived on his ranch in Sante Fe, New Mexico, on a hilltop looking out on the Colorado Rockies, a view he preferred to his films that popped up on television.

“I’ll watch maybe five minutes of it,” he once told Time magazine, “and I’ll get this icky feeling, and I turn the channel.”

___

Entertainment Writer Andrew Dalton in Los Angeles contributed to this report. Bob Thomas, a longtime Associated Press journalist who died in 2014, compiled biographical material for this obituary.