Jamie Lee Curtis said some very sad things about her close friend and Curb Your Enthusiasm star Richard Lewis, who died on Tuesday of a heart attack at the age of 76.
The 65-year-old actress who played the witch in Halloween also starred with the comedian in the sitcom Anything But Love, which ran for four seasons from 1989 to 1992.
She posted on her main Instagram page on Wednesday after hearing the sad news that the actor had died. Bette Midler was the first to share the news.
Curtis posted a bunch of old pictures of herself with Lewis and wrote a long caption in which she thanked the late star for being “the reason I am sober.”
This month, Jamie celebrated 25 years of being sober after struggling with an opioid addiction.
“I just learned that my friend Richard Lewis has died.” I remember exactly where I was on Sunset Boulevard when I saw a billboard of him for a stand-up special. It was during the casting process for the ABC pilot Anything But Love, and I asked the casting staff to bring him in to try out for the part of Marty Gold, my best friend and maybe boyfriend.
“I thought he looked good.” Someone made me laugh, which is something a strong woman can’t really do for herself. I laughed out loud when he pronounced the word “Bundt cake” wrong, but he got the part.
“He blew everyone else away,” Jamie said. They didn’t pick up the pilot for the love triangle show, but they got back to me and said, “The chemistry with Richard was so great. Could we revamp the original pilot?” That’s how we ended up making the show for two years.
“He was also a stand-up comedian, but he hated performing in front of real people. I, on the other hand, loved it.”
He would hide his lines on props, door frames, and even my face in a close-up. He also always had his lines written on a clipboard with him. He played roles very well, it turned out. It’s deep and so damn funny.
She said, “We grieved together over the death of our friend and co-star Richard Frank and over the death of our friend and producer John Ritter.”
“In his last text message to me, Richard hoped that I could get ABC/Disney to release another boxed set of episodes of the show,” she wrote to her fans.
Then Jamie said, “He’s also the reason I’m sober.” He helped me. I will always be grateful to him for that act of kindness.
They talked about his wife, Joyce Lapinsky, and she said, “He found love with Joyce, and that, of course, along with being sober, was what mattered most to him.” It makes me cry to write this.
This is a strange way to thank a nice and funny man. Richard, may you rest in laughter. “My Marty, I love you, Hannah!” she said in the end.
Jamie also wrote a second post about how sad she was about the death of her longtime friend and former co-star.
She added another old picture of herself with Lewis and some lyrics from the Anything But Love theme song.
“In the third and final season of the TV show ANYTHING BUT LOVE, which aired on ABC for a few years, the great singer-songwriter JD Souther wrote this beautiful theme song,” Curtis wrote.
“Try to find it on YouTube and listen to it. If not, I’ve written it down here for you.” Today I’m giving them to my friend Richard Lewis.
She shared lyrics that said, “If we had never met/And the world got on without us/Just as if we were never that at all,”We would still be looking for the next big thing and trying not to fall…
“Anything but love will do and hearts that beat like thunder.”For everyone but you, anything but love would be enough.
Larry David, who also stars on Curb Your Enthusiasm, and other famous people and social media users paid tribute to the late Richard Lewis.
“He’s been like a brother to me for most of my life,” he told HBO. “Richard and I were born three days apart in the same hospital.”
“He was the funniest and nicest person at the same time, which doesn’t happen very often.” The comedian told Variety, “But today he made me cry, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”
Cheryl Hines, who worked with Lewis on the hit show, wrote, “When I was young, I had the biggest crush on Richard Lewis.”
“There was no one funnier or more handsome on stage than him.” Then I got to work with him on Curb Your Enthusiasm, which was a dream come true.
“Over the years, I learned more about Richard and the gifts he gave.” I fell in love with him because he was funny, but he was also one of the nicest people I know.
“Especially in the last few years,” Cheryl said, “he would take the time to tell the people he loved how much they meant to him.” He told me how important I was to him and how much he loved me in between takes on Curb.
“To be loved by Richard Lewis.” A real gift. Richard, I love you. We will miss you. I love you, Joyce, and everyone in Richard’s family. Lawrence, Richard loved you…You already know that, though.
I Married My School Teacher – What Happened on Our First Night Shocked Me to the Core
I never expected to see my high school teacher years later in the middle of a crowded farmers’ market. But there he was, calling my name like no time had passed. What started as a polite conversation quickly turned into something I never could’ve imagined.
When I was in high school, Mr. Harper was the teacher everyone adored. Fresh out of university, he had a knack for making ancient history sound like a Netflix series. He was energetic, funny, and maybe a little too good-looking for a teacher.
Young male teacher in a classroom | Source: Midjourney
For most of us, he was the “cool teacher,” the one who made you feel like learning was less of a chore. For me, he was just Mr. Harper—a kind, funny adult who always had time for his students.
“Claire, great analysis on the Declaration of Independence essay,” he told me once after class. “You’ve got a sharp mind. Ever thought about law school?”
Student handing her assignment to her teacher | Source: Midjourney
I remember shrugging awkwardly, tucking my notebook against my chest. “I don’t know… Maybe? History’s just… easier than math.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, math is easier when you don’t overthink it. History, though? That’s where the stories are. You’re good at finding the stories.”
At 16, it didn’t mean much to me. He was just a teacher doing his job. But I’d be lying if I said his words didn’t stick.
Life happened after that. I graduated, moved to the city, and left those high school memories behind. Or so I thought.
High school graduate | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward eight years later. I was 24 and back in my sleepy hometown, wandering through the farmers’ market when a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Claire? Is that you?”
I turned around, and there he was. Except now, he wasn’t “Mr. Harper.” He was just Leo.
“Mr. Har—I mean, Leo?” I stumbled over the words, feeling my cheeks heat.
His grin widened, the same as it always had been, but with a little more ease, a little more charm. “You don’t have to call me ‘Mr.’ anymore.”
It was surreal—standing there with the man who used to grade my essays, now laughing with me like an old friend. If only I’d known how much that moment would change my life.
People having a chat at a farmer’s market | Source: Midjourney
“You still teaching?” I asked, balancing a basket of fresh vegetables on my hip.
“Yeah,” Leo said, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “Different school now, though. Teaching high school English these days.”
“English?” I teased. “What happened to history? “
He laughed, a deep, easy sound. “Well, turns out I’m better at discussing literature.”
What struck me wasn’t just how much older he looked—it was how much lighter he seemed. Less the energetic rookie teacher, more the confident man who’d found his rhythm.
People having a chat at a farmer’s market | Source: Midjourney
As we talked, the conversation didn’t just flow—it danced. He told me about his years teaching the students who drove him crazy but made him proud, and the stories that stayed with him. I shared my time in the city: the chaotic jobs, the failed relationships, and my dream of starting a small business someday.
“You’d be amazing at that,” he said over coffee two weeks later. “The way you described that idea? I could practically see it.”
“You’re just saying that,” I laughed, but his steady gaze made me pause.
“No, I mean it,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “You’ve got the drive, Claire. You just need the chance.”
People at a coffee date | Source: Midjourney
By the time we reached our third dinner—this one at a cozy bistro lit by soft candlelight—I realized something. The age gap? Seven years. The connection? Instant. The feeling? Unexpected.
“I’m starting to think you’re just using me for free history trivia,” I joked as he paid the check.
“Busted,” he said with a grin, leaning in closer. “Though I might have ulterior motives.”
The air shifted, a current of something unspoken but undeniable passing between us. My heart raced, and I broke the silence with a whisper.
“What kind of motives?”
“Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”
Couple on a dinner date | Source: Getty Images
A year later, we stood under the sprawling oak tree in my parents’ backyard, surrounded by fairy lights, the laughter of friends, and the quiet rustle of leaves. It was a small, simple wedding, just as we wanted.
As I slipped the gold band onto Leo’s finger, I couldn’t help but smile. This wasn’t the kind of love story I’d ever imagined for myself, but it felt right in every way.
Bride and Groom exchanging vows on their wedding day | Source: Midjourney
That night, after the last guest left and the house had fallen into a peaceful hush, Leo and I finally had a moment to ourselves. We sat in the dim light of the living room, still dressed in our wedding clothes, shoes kicked off, champagne glasses in hand.
“I have something for you,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A gift? On top of marrying me? Bold move.”
He laughed softly and pulled a small, worn leather notebook from behind his back. “I thought you might like this.”
I took it, running my fingers over the cracked cover. “What is this?”
An old small note book | Source: Midjourney
“Open it,” he urged, his voice tinged with something I couldn’t quite place—nervousness? Excitement?
Flipping the cover open, I immediately recognized the messy scrawl on the first page. My handwriting. My heart skipped. “Wait… is this my old dream journal?”
He nodded, grinning like a kid confessing a well-kept secret. “You wrote it in my history class. Remember? That assignment where you had to imagine your future?”
“I completely forgot about this!” I laughed, though my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You kept it?”
Bride smiling while looking at her journal | Source: Midjourney
“Not on purpose,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “When I switched schools, I found it in a box of old papers. I wanted to throw it out, but… I couldn’t. It was too good.”
“Good?” I flipped through the pages, reading fragments of teenage dreams. Starting a business. Traveling to Paris. Making a difference. “This is just the ramblings of a high schooler.”
“No,” Leo said, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s the map to the life you’re going to have. I kept it because it reminded me how much potential you had. And I wanted to see it come true.”
Newly weds having an intimate conversation in their living room | Source: Midjourney
I stared at him, my throat tightening. “You really think I can do all this?”
His hand covered mine. “I don’t think. I know. And I’ll be here, every step of the way.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I clutched the notebook to my chest. “Leo… you’re kind of ruining me right now.”
He smirked. “Good. That’s my job.”
That night, as I lay in bed, the worn leather notebook resting on my lap, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t yet comprehend. Leo’s arm was draped over me, his steady breathing warm against my shoulder.
Newly weds having an intimate conversation in their living room | Source: Midjourney
I stared at the notebook, its pages brimming with dreams I’d long since forgotten, and felt something shift deep inside me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had this sooner?” I whispered, breaking the silence.
He stirred slightly but didn’t lift his head. “Because I didn’t want to pressure you,” he murmured sleepily. “You had to find your way back to those dreams on your own.”
I ran my fingers over the pages, my teenage handwriting almost foreign to me. “But… what if I fail?”
Leo propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light. “Claire, failing isn’t the worst thing. Never trying? That’s worse.”
His words lingered long after he drifted back to sleep. By morning, I’d made up my mind.
Woman having coffee while seated on her bed | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, I began tearing down the walls I’d built around myself. I quit the desk job I’d never loved and threw myself into the idea that had lived rent-free in my head for years: a bookstore café. Leo became my rock, standing by me through late nights, financial hiccups, and my relentless self-doubt.
“Do you think people will actually come here?” I asked him one night as we painted the walls of the shop.
He leaned on the ladder, smirking. “You’re kidding, right? A bookstore with coffee? You’ll have people lining up just to smell the place.”
He wasn’t wrong. By the time we opened, it wasn’t just a business—it was a part of the community. And it was ours.
People at a bookstore with coffee shop. | Source: Midjourney
Now, as I sit behind the counter of our thriving bookstore café, watching Leo help our toddler pick up crayons from the floor, I think back to that notebook—the spark that reignited a fire in me I didn’t know had gone out.
Leo glanced up, catching my eye. “What’s that look for?” he asked, grinning.
“Nothing,” I said, my heart full. “Just thinking… I really did marry the right teacher.”
“Damn right, you did,” he said, winking.
Happy couple gazing into each other’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as “is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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