Some actors disappear and no one says a thing. You binge an old show, spot a familiar face, then discover they died in November 2025 and nobody bothered to mention it. You’ve seen them for years, yet they slipped away quietly. This list gives those forgotten legends a little love. Here is a list of celebrity deaths of November 2025, including a few famous names that didn’t make the news.
John Beam
John Beam, 66, spent more than 40 years turning Oakland kids into champions, long before “Last Chance U” made him famous in 2020. He started coaching in 1979, rocked Skyline High from 1982 with a 160–33–3 record, then took over Laney College in 2012. He didn’t just win games. He helped nearly 90 percent of his players graduate or transfer and sent more than 20 guys to the NFL. Oakland Mayor Barbara Lee called him “a giant in Oakland – a mentor, an educator, and a lifeline for thousands of young people” who “has shaped leaders on and off the field.”
Rebecca Heineman
Rebecca Ann Heineman flipped high-scores into a lifetime of game-dev legend. Born October 30, 1963 in Whittier, California, she went from Space Invaders champ at age 16 to the first U.S. national video game champion in 1980. Not a bad start to a career. She co-founded Interplay in 1983 with Brian Fargo and crew, cranking out The Bard’s Tale III and Dragon Wars while bouncing between Mac and 3DO ports like it was nothing. She later launched more studios, raised five kids, married fellow pioneer Jennell Jaquays, and pushed for game preservation. On November 17, 2025, at 62, cancer took her. Gaming keeps her.
Homayoun Ershadi
Homayoun Ershadi lived one of those careers you can’t predict with a spreadsheet. Born March 26, 1947 in Isfahan, he studied architecture in Venice, moved to Canada, then found himself stuck in Tehran traffic where Abbas Kiarostami literally rolled up and offered him the lead in “Taste of Cherry.” That film snagged the Palme d’Or in 1997. Not bad for a guy who was just trying to drive home. Hollywood later noticed, casting him as Baba in “The Kite Runner.” Khalid Abdalla called him “a magnificent soul who touched millions of people around the world.” He died November 11, 2025 at 78, leaving kids, grandkids, and a film legacy that never needed loud performances to hit hard.
Elizabeth Franz
Elizabeth Franz brought heart to every role. Born June 18, 1941, in Akron, she arrived on Broadway swinging in 1967 with “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead,” then spent five decades proving emotional honesty matters more than shouting. Her Tony win in 1999 for Linda Loman in “Death of a Salesman” still makes theatre kids argue she’s the blueprint. You might’ve spotted her popping into “Gilmore Girls,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” or even “Christmas with the Kranks” because a working actor works. She died November 4, 2025, in Woodbury at 84, survived by husband Christopher Pelham. She once joked characters never retire. She didn’t either.
The Kessler Twins
Frank Sinatra. Harry Belafonte. Elvis. The Kessler Twins kept some legendary company. Born Aug 20, 1936, Alice and Ellen started dancing before most kids learn to spell their own names. Leipzig Opera kids ballet, then a bold escape from East to West Germany at 16. By 1955, Paris’ Lido snapped up the tall 5’10’’ duo and world tours rolled in. Ed Sullivan loved them. Hollywood tried to lure them for “Viva Las Vegas,” but they said no thanks to predictable roles. “Discipline, every day… humility,” Alice said. At 89, in Grünwald near Munich, they chose their final curtain call together. “Inseparable.”
Alice Wong
Alice Wong never waited for permission. Born March 27, 1974 near Indianapolis, she grew up with spinal muscular atrophy, powered through school, grabbed degrees from IUPUI and UCSF, then rolled straight into shaping U.S. disability policy when President Obama appointed her to the National Council on Disability in 2013. A year later she launched the Disability Visibility Project, proving disabled voices don’t need a filter. Books followed, like “Disability Visibility” in 2020 and her 2022 memoir “Year of the Tiger.” She once wrote, “We need more stories about us and our culture.” She lived that. Alice Wong was 51.
Kenny Easley
Kenneth “Kenny” Easley Jr. changed how safeties played football. Seattle grabbed him fourth overall in 1981, and you immediately saw why UCLA fans bragged about their three-time consensus All-American. Ten interceptions in 1984? He said, “The Enforcer” for a reason. He snagged 32 picks in just seven seasons, then grabbed Defensive Player of the Year like it was no big deal. Kidney disease cut things short, but Seattle still retired his No. 45 and welcomed him into the Ring of Honor in 2002. Hall of Fame followed in 2017. He died November 14, 2025, at 66, leaving Gail and their kids with one legendary legacy.
Todd Snider
Todd Snider never just played a show. He cracked jokes, told wild stories that somehow landed, then hit you with “Beer Run” or “Play a Train Song” like he’d been reading your mind. Born October 11, 1966, in Portland and gone too soon at 59 in Nashville on November 14, 2025, he made over twenty albums starting with 1994’s “Songs for the Daily Planet.” “Alright Guy” and his grunge-skewering “Talking Seattle Grunge Rock Blues” put him on the map. Critics like Steven Hyden called him “an unheralded songwriters’ songwriter,” though you didn’t need a critic. Just queue up East Nashville Skyline and you’ll get it.
Jim Avila
Jim Avila packed more journalism into 70 years than most newsrooms combined. Born James Joseph Simon in Los Angeles on July 26, 1955, he later chose his mom’s maiden name to make his Mexican heritage loud and clear. He hustled through radio and local TV in Chicago, San Francisco, and LA before landing the O. J. Simpson trial beat at KNBC in the 90s. ABC News snagged him in 2004. He covered the Obama White House, snagged the Merriman Smith Award for breaking the U.S.–Cuba story, plus Emmys and Murrows. A 2021 kidney transplant didn’t slow him. He kept digging at San Diego’s KGTV. Colleagues called him “tough and fair.”
Cleo Hearn
Cleo Hearn roped his way into history long before Netflix tried making cowboys cool again. Born May 3, 1939, in Seminole, Oklahoma, he jumped into roping at 16 and joined the RCA by 1959. Then he made everyone pay attention. In 1970, he became the first African American to win calf roping at the Denver National Western Stock Show & Rodeo. He even attended college on a rodeo scholarship before the U.S. Army drafted him in 1961, where he served in the Presidential Honor Guard. Years later, he launched the Texas Black Rodeo, later renamed Cowboys of Color Rodeo in 1995 to welcome more cultures. After retiring in 2017, he stacked up Hall of Fame honors and even got a trail named after him in Lancaster, Texas. Oh, and he somehow found time for a 33-year gig with Ford. Cowboys multitask.
Micheal Ray Richardson
Micheal Ray Richardson packed more plot twists into 70 years than most sports movies manage. Born April 11, 1955, in Lubbock and raised in Denver, he tore up Manual High’s courts, then Montana’s, before the New York Knicks grabbed him 4th in the 1978 NBA Draft. Four All-Star nods, league leader in steals three times, assists once. The guy could lock you down and run the show. Then cocaine derailed everything in 1986 when he became the first NBA player banned for life. He rebuilt overseas, won coaching titles in Canada, mentored kids in Lawton, Oklahoma. Stumbled, rose again. A real one.
Cleto Escobedo III
Cleto Escobedo III spent more than twenty years blasting life into “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” with his sax, and now the late-night world feels way too quiet. Born August 23, 1966, in Las Vegas, he literally grew up across the street from Jimmy Kimmel. They turned a neighborhood friendship into the most enviable office setup ever. As Kimmel wrote, “To say that we are heartbroken is an understatement.” Before TV fame hit in 2003, Escobedo toured with Paula Abdul and Marc Anthony. Then Cleto and the Cletones arrived, featuring his dad in the lineup. He leaves behind Lori, two kids, and a soundtrack that refuses to fade.
Tatsuya Nakadai
Tatsuya Nakadai lived 92 years like the cinema legend he became. Born Motohisa Nakadai back on December 13, 1932, he once sold shop goods before Masaki Kobayashi spotted him and said (probably), “Hey kid, you look like you could lead an anti-war epic.” That became “The Human Condition,” where Nakadai’s Kaji wrestles with the mess of wartime Japan. You might know him better as the raging warlord Hidetora in Akira Kurosawa’s “Ran,” or from “Harakiri” and “Kagemusha.” More than 160 films, a Tokyo acting school called Mumeijuku, and awards like the Order of Culture in 2015. He died on November 8, 2025, from pneumonia. A life fully used.
Sally Kirkland
Sally Kirkland never blended into the background. Born October 31, 1941, in New York City, she jumped from Vogue royalty (her mom edited at both Vogue and Life) into the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, then hustled through the wild 1960s with Andy Warhol’s Factory crowd. Her breakout hit arrived decades later with Anna in 1987. She won a Golden Globe for it and joked that the Oscar nomination meant “I could finally afford dinner.” You’ve seen her everywhere: The Sting, JFK, Bruce Almighty, plus Days of Our Lives in 1999 as Tracey Simpson. She died November 11, 2025 at 84 in Palm Springs after a tough year battling fractures, infections, and dementia. Her impact lives in every actor she coached who’s now trying to snag their own Golden Globe.
Lee Tamahori
Lee Tamahori packed a lot into 75 years. Born 22 April 1950, he pushed filmmaking where others were scared to go. The guy behind “Once Were Warriors” didn’t just tell stories, he kicked down doors for Māori talent. He fathered Sam, Max, Meka and Tané, and hyped his mokopuna every chance he got. His daughter once said he had a “genius eye and honest heart.” He even took Bond for a spin in 2002 with “Die Another Day” because why not aim big. Loved by Justine and backed by his whānau, Lee died peacefully on 7 November 2025. Still leading from the front.
Paul Tagliabue
Paul Tagliabue, who ran the NFL from 1989 to 2006, died November 9, 2025 at 84 in Chevy Chase, Maryland after heart failure tied to Parkinson’s disease. He grew up in Jersey City, crushed it at Georgetown basketball, nearly became a Rhodes Scholar, then grabbed a law degree at NYU because trophies apparently weren’t enough. Owners made him commissioner in ’89 and he wasted no time growing the league to 32 teams, from the Panthers to the Texans. He paused games after 9/11, fought for the Saints to play again in New Orleans, and even pushed diversity before the Rooney Rule had a name. His wife Chandler and kids Drew and Emily carry on his legacy.
Frederick Hauck
Captain Frederick “Rick” Hauck packed 84 years with enough achievements to make your LinkedIn profile blush. Born April 11, 1941 to a Navy family, he dodged a nuclear engineering desk job after MIT and jumped into Navy Flight School, flying A-6 Intruders in Vietnam, then testing the F-14 Tomcat in Maryland. NASA scooped him up in 1978. He piloted STS-7 with Sally Ride in 1983, commanded STS-51A in 1984 and led the 1988 “Return to Flight.” He later ran AXA Space, but his real flex was family. As he wrote, “it is the love of my wife, children and grandchildren…”
Lenny Wilkens
Lenny Wilkens, who made winning look chill, died on November 9, 2025 at 88. Born in Brooklyn in 1937, he went from Boys High to Providence College before the St. Louis Hawks grabbed him sixth in the 1960 draft. He played 15 seasons, dropped 16.5 points a night, won 1971 All-Star MVP, then basically never left the sideline. Seattle got its only title in 1979 thanks to him. Three Hall of Fame inductions isn’t normal, but he pulled it off anyway. Adam Silver said, “Lenny Wilkens represented the very best of the NBA…” Seattle even put up a statue in 2025. He earned it.
James Watson
James D. Watson changed biology. He and Francis Crick cracked the double helix in 1953 using data from Rosalind Franklin and Maurice Wilkins, which won them the 1962 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine. He pushed early genome research, convinced politicians to fund it, and even launched the “think tank” Banbury Center. At Harvard, his lab proved mRNA exists. He wrote hits like The Double Helix (1968) while raising Rufus and Duncan with Liz Lewis at Cold Spring Harbor. You don’t map the Human Genome Project without a few bold moves. His legacy still drives science forward.
Gilson Lavis
Gilson Lavis never missed a beat. The former Squeeze drummer, born June 27, 1951, kept time so tight you could’ve set your phone to it. “He absolutely propelled us like rocket fuel,” Glenn Tilbrook said. You know the songs. “Cool for Cats,” “Tempted,” “Hourglass” — his snare drove every hook. After leaving Squeeze in 1991, he jumped straight into Jools Holland’s Rhythm & Blues Orchestra and stayed there until a final Royal Albert Hall show on November 30, 2024. He also painted striking black-and-white portraits because why stop at one talent? Lavis died November 5, 2025, at home in Lincolnshire, aged 74. Survived by his wife and son.
Marshawn Kneeland
Marshawn Kneeland packed a lot into 24 years. The Dallas Cowboys defensive end from Grand Rapids arrived in the NFL with a necklace holding his mom Wendy’s ashes, reminding everyone why he fought so hard. Drafted 56th in 2024 out of Western Michigan, he worked his way into 18 games, grabbing 26 tackles, one sack and, yep, a blocked-punt touchdown on Monday Night Football against Arizona. He celebrated like a kid who’d finally cracked the code. The Cowboys called him a “beloved teammate,” and you could see why. He supported Catalina, his dad Shawn, and his siblings while chasing something big.
Mary Ann Wilson
Mary Ann Wilson kept America moving without asking anyone to stand up. The Pittsburgh-born registered nurse turned fitness guide launched “Sit and Be Fit” in Spokane back in 1987, proving a kitchen chair can beat a pricey gym membership any day. She once said the real plan was better posture, breathing and balance so you feel brave enough to keep going. Viewers wrote thanking her for helping them walk to the mailbox without wobbling. She called Pittsburgh her “hometown” but spent decades filming in Washington with her daughter Gretchen Wilson running the show. Mary Ann died November 5, 2025 at 87—still inspiring movement.
John Wesley Ryles
John Wesley Ryles spent 57 years in country music, and you’ve definitely heard him even if you didn’t realize it. He first broke through at 17 when “Kay” hit the Top 10 in 1968, a pretty wild start for a kid from Bastrop, Louisiana. He kept the momentum rolling with charting singles through the 70s and 80s like “Once in a Lifetime Thing,” which climbed to No. 5 in 1977. Then he became Nashville’s secret weapon. The Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum said he “performed for decades as a background singer on countless Nashville recordings.” Ryles died November 2, 2025 at 74, leaving behind his wife, singer Joni Lee.
Duane Roberts
Duane R. Roberts never planned to become the burrito guy, yet that’s exactly what happened. Back in the 1950s, he was hustling at his family’s company, Butcher Boy Food Products, which mostly sold frozen hamburger patties to early fast-food joints like McDonald’s. Then someone suggested a burrito. “What’s a burrito?” Roberts reportedly asked. Two days of messing around in his kitchen later, he had a beef-and-bean version that restaurants could freeze and deep fry. It blew up fast. We’re talking more than a million burritos a day and $80 million a year before the family sold the business in 1980.
He didn’t retire. He bought the Mission Inn Hotel & Spa in Riverside and poured seven years and $55 million into bringing the historic property back to life by 1992. The Festival of Lights, the Pumpkin Stroll, those holiday events that pack downtown Riverside? That’s the Roberts family’s touch. Historic Hotels of America even gave Duane and his wife, Kelly, the Steward of History and Historic Preservation Award in 2024.
Roberts died peacefully at 88 on November 1, 2025, surrounded by family. He’s survived by Kelly and his stepkids, Doug Reinhardt and Casey Brown. Quite a legacy for a guy who just liked tacos and enchiladas.
Donna Jean Godchaux
Donna Jean Godchaux packed a wild résumé into 78 years. You hear her on Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” and Elvis Presley’s “Suspicious Minds,” then suddenly she’s onstage with the Grateful Dead from 1972 to 1979, trading lines with Jerry Garcia and belting “Sunrise” and “From the Heart of Me.” If you want a practical takeaway, go listen to “Terrapin Station” with fresh ears and try singing those harmonies in the shower. Born August 22, 1947, in Florence, Alabama, she brought Muscle Shoals grit to arena chaos. She died November 2, 2025, in Nashville, leaving music that still hits.
Dick Cheney
Dick Cheney, 84, the 46th vice president under George W. Bush from 2001 to 2009, died November 4, 2025 from pneumonia and cardiac and vascular disease. He pushed the USA Patriot Act and shaped the War on Terror after 9/11. Bush remembered him saying, “Dick was a calm and steady presence in the White House… he never failed to give his best.” Cheney never hid how he saw foreign policy. In 1998 he joked, “The good Lord didn’t see fit to put oil and gas only where there are democratically elected regimes friendly to the United States.” He’s survived by Lynne, Liz, and Mary.
Diane Ladd
Diane Ladd never backed down from a role that required a little grit. The Meridian-born actress, who went from guest spots in the 1960s to stealing scenes from Jack Nicholson and Nicolas Cage, died November 3 in Ojai at 89 with her daughter Laura Dern beside her. She once joked she could “look 17 or look 70” depending on the day. True.
Her first Oscar nod came after playing Flo in Martin Scorsese’s “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore” in 1974. Then she popped up in “Chinatown” because why not take over the entire decade. By 1990, David Lynch unleashed her as Marietta Fortune in “Wild at Heart,” teaming her with Laura in a twisted family affair that somehow worked. The pair made history the next year with “Rambling Rose,” both earning Oscar nominations for the same film.
Her life wasn’t just cameras and red carpets. Ladd poured a lot of herself into her 2011 autobiography, confronting grief and survival head-on. “If you can take your pain and not let it back up like a sore or something… then you are winning,” she wrote. She knew what winning cost. She and Bruce Dern lost their toddler daughter in 1962, a heartbreak she carried while raising Laura and building a career that refused to fade.
She tapped on the Hollywood Walk of Fame star they gave her in 2010. She earned it. Laura Dern said her mom was “the greatest daughter, mother, grandmother, actress, artist and empathetic spirit that only dreams could have seemingly created.” That’s a legacy any performer would fight for.
Lô Borges
Lô Borges, a giant of Brazilian music, died on November 2 at 73 after fighting an infection linked to medication for more than two weeks. You might know him from Clube da Esquina, the landmark 1972 album he co-created that made musicians across the world rethink what a melody could do. “O Trem Azul” and “Um Girassol Da Cor Do Seu Cabelo” still hit like fresh discoveries, mixing rock, jazz, MPB and pop into something bold. Artists like Herbie Hancock, Alex Turner and Paul Simon picked up on his groove. You don’t forget a voice like that.
Richard Gott
Richard Willoughby Gott’s life sounds like a pitch for a political thriller. The British journalist spent 30 years at The Guardian and somehow always found himself where history happened. When Che Guevara was killed in 1967, Gott was the only reporter who could point at the body and say, “That’s him.” Pretty wild anecdote to drop at a dinner party. A bold leftist with a sharp tongue, he annoyed enough powerful people that in 1994 he faced accusations of being a KGB spy. He called the claims nonsense, quit the paper, and later wrote Cuba: A New History in 2004. He died November 2 at 87.
Bob Trumpy
Robert Theodore Trumpy Jr. spent a decade smashing through defenses as the Cincinnati Bengals tight end from 1968 to 1977, racking up 4,600 receiving yards, 35 touchdowns and a wild 15.4 yards per catch average. You try doing that without pulling a hamstring. Those numbers still top every Bengals tight end who followed. He retired, turned 80, then on November 2 he signed off one last time. Before that, he jumped into the broadcast booth and didn’t exactly whisper into the mic. He owned it. You might remember his voice calling big plays while you argued with friends about who actually caught the ball.
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