Gen X Icons Are Dying

Reflections as our childhood icons vanish one by one.

It happened again. This week Gen X got sucker-punched.

Hulk Hogan, the bleach-blond, mahogany-tanned wrestling legend passed away from cardiac arrest at the age of 71. Malcolm-Jamal Warner, TV’s lovable Theo Huxtable tragically passed away in a drowning accident at the age of 54. Ozzy Osbourne, heavy-metal legend passed away at 76… all gone within days of each other.

In the last five years Gen X has lost so many iconic people who seemed eternal to us as kids. We lost George Wendt (Norm from Cheers), Shannen Doherty (Brenda Walsh from Beverly Hills, 90210), Michael Madsen earlier this month, Val Kilmer in April, Gene Hackman in February, Michelle Trachtenberg, also in February.

I can keep going… Teri Garr last October, James Earl Jones, Richard Simmons, Donald Sutherland, Carl Weathers, Matthew Perry, Suzanne Somers, Bob Barker, Paul Reubens, Tina Turner… that’s just the last couple of years!

Growing up in the 80s and 90s, these were household names. We watched them on tv, heard them on the radio. I think we understand that we are losing some to time, but others are gone tragically, far too young. I would say even Hogan’s passing yesterday at 71 was shocking. I mean, 71 isn’t that old guys… I can understand being in your 90s, but it’s harder to accept today to hear someone went in their 70s. Do you agree?

I understand underlying medical problems exist, and some of our icons lived life to its fullest for sure. Three legends in one week though? Gen Xers are certainly feeling our mortality right now. It just feels unreal.

It’s like someone hit CTRL-Alt, Delete on our childhood. It’s only natural that Gen X feels collectively stunned. I remember how shaken we all were back in 2016 when Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia) and George Michael died within two days of each other – I have friends and followers reach out to me anytime someone passes away and it always feels like getting daggers thrown at you. And some might ask, well why? Why does it even bother you? Well, my response is this…

Gen X didn’t just watch these people, we grew up with them, and we watched them grow older. They were the voices in our Walkmans, the faces on our bedroom posters, the characters we quoted in the lunchroom to our friends. Their films or songs got us through stuff, our awkward teen phases, heartbreaks, and more. Their films made us laugh or feel and learn about the world, and expand our imaginations. In a time before algorithms curated our memories, these icons were the culture.

So when we lose one, it’s not just a celebrity dying, it’s like a piece of our foundation quietly crumbling. A flicker from a time that felt safe, exciting, and full of possibility suddenly goes out. And when enough flickers go out, the room gets darker… and we can’t help but feel a little more alone in it.

We don’t mourn them because they were famous. We mourn them because they were familiar to us, and through the shared experience of an entire generation, ‌they sort of helped raise us.

We’re a weird generation. Gen Xers can admit this.

Latchkey kids with MTV burned into our brains, so pop culture wasn’t just on the TV, it was something sown into our being. Younger generations can’t understand this because there is so much out there for them that they don’t necessarily have a collective mind when it comes to their history and pop-culture.

Gen X views social media differently. We just do. We view it with caution for sure. Whenever one of our celebrities checks out, the platforms all light up instantly.

Also, let me put this out there…

We are fully aware we didn’t know Terry “Hulk Hogan” Bollea or most of these folks in real life, but it still hurts like we did.

I know a few celebrities through my online platform now, so I’m sure this will change things slightly when the time comes that they are no longer with us… I don’t even want to think about it tbh.

Gen X’s inner cynic would usually roll eyes at this kind of public mourning, but honestly, I can’t. Every time one leaves, it’s a little reminder that our own time is limited too.

My wife asked me how I was holding up after Hulk Hogan passed. And honestly? I was a little surprised… touched, even… that she took it seriously. But at the same time, it felt kind of silly. I mean… it’s Hulk Hogan, right? A larger-than-life character of a man from our youth. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized… it shouldn’t feel silly.

These people, these icons we grew up with, weren’t just pop culture wallpaper. They are real. Not the character or persona they play, but their person is real. They are the only ones that can bring the characters we loved to life.. and death.

These people have families and friends who loved them, flaws and all. And when they pass, especially after being part of our emotional architecture for decades, it’s okay to feel something. To mourn. Not just for them, but with their families… even if it's from a distance.

Honestly, I don’t think my wife would’ve ever asked me that if I hadn’t spent the last five years writing about and building a community around nostalgia and shared memories. That 80s Dude is who I am, and everyone that reads or watched my content knows that the guy in the logo that shares memories with people all over the world… that’s also me… John. Do you see what I’m trying to say?

Sharing memories, connecting with others who felt the same joy, the same losses. Somewhere along the way, this stopped being just a hobby and became a kind of collective… a love letter to a generation trying to hold onto what shaped us… and it’s ok to grieve together.

When one of our people goes down, it hits different. Because it’s not just nostalgia… we have worn our history, good, bad, and weird, through all of these years.

It’s a true reminder that our legends are human, and that time is moving faster than we want to admit.

Yet there’s a silver lining in all this I think. If anything, the losses remind us how much the icons we admired, or maybe didn’t admire (but certainly were fixtures of our childhood), meant to us and our shared history. This week I found myself playing a few Ozzy tracks I like. I was never a huge fan of his music, but I certainly remember a few tracks that I enjoyed here and there.

I also shared a few favorite memories of the Hulkster on my social media and with my kids.

that_80s_dude

A post shared by @that_80s_dude

I even played a couple of episodes of The Cosby Show.

In their absence we celebrate them more, share their stories, crank up their tunes. It’s how we turn a funeral into a party of remembrance.

We’re also getting a reminder to seize our own day. If these legends can die in a week, maybe I should stop procrastinating on finishing my audio book, or plan that trip to Catalina Island with my wife. I’m sure you have plenty of things you want to do. Gen X is a bit anxious, and I’ll be the first to tell you that we’ve got that midlife weirdness. We lack sleep, are cranky about some things, but we’re a positive generation that still feels 16 at heart. We know how to mix the melancholy with a dose of urgency, but still keep our gaze on the important things around us. We love our family and friends.

In the end, we soldier on with a mix of humor and heart. It's sad, but also oddly comforting to know we aren’t alone in feeling this way. The Gen X community, although global and scattered, is the generation that has changed the world… and now it’s up to us to carry the indomitable spirit of our childhood legends forward (and maybe pretend we didn’t just cry over an Instagram tribute).

So here’s to Gen X’s passing childhood. We’ll tell our kids about them when a rerun comes on in the same reverent-but-casual way our parents told us about The Beatles and Lucille Ball or John Wayne. We will do it with a grin and a shake of the head, and a few personal stories sprinkled in. Because, ultimately, the show must go on, even if all some of the important cast members have left.

As for me, and I’m sure many others… I’m lighting a candle for the icons that made being a Gen X kid feel like we were part of something amazing. And we’ll keep that flame going… for them, and for us.