Jamie Lee Curtis breaks down in tears over shocking revelation!

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.

My Foster Dad Gave Me One Dollar on My 5th Birthday — Years Later It Radically Changed My Life When I Was at My Lowest

Clichés about small things having big impacts usually roll off your ears, right? But for me, a single birthday gift, a dollar bill no less, became the unlikely lifeline that transformed my life as a homeless kid. This is the story of how that crumpled dollar bill not only carried me through the toughest times but also steered me on a path to success I never dared to dream of.

A white couple with their black foster son | Source: Midjourney

A white couple with their black foster son | Source: Midjourney

I was two years old when Steve and Linda, my foster parents, took me in. They were a white couple with big hearts and already had eight Black foster kids like me. They treated us all like their own children.

I didn’t even know what my biological parents looked like, and honestly, I didn’t care much because Steve and Linda were everything I could ever hope for in my parents.

Being the youngest, I was always shy and thought everyone else was better than me. But Steve, my foster dad, had a way of making me feel special.

A white father laughing with his black foster son | Source: Midjourney

A white father laughing with his black foster son | Source: Midjourney

I remember how he’d kneel down, look me straight in the eyes, and say, “Dylan, you’re just as good as anyone else. You’ve got a spark in you, kid.”

My fifth birthday was a turning point in my life, though not in the way most birthdays are. That was the day my biological parents showed up out of nowhere. They wanted me back, and for reasons I couldn’t understand, the authorities decided I should go with them.

A grayscale photo of a white father comforting his sad black son | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a white father comforting his sad black son | Source: Midjourney

I remember the day I had to leave like it was yesterday. I was crying my heart out as I hugged Steve one last time. “Dad, I’ll never be anything,” I sobbed. “I’m just a loser.”

Steve hugged me tighter and whispered, “Happy birthday, Dylan. Here’s something for you.” He handed me a one-dollar bill and added, “There’s a special message for you written on this bill. Never lose it.”

At the time, I couldn’t read or write, so I didn’t pay much attention to those words. I just shoved the bill into my pocket and held onto Steve, not wanting to let go.

A one-dollar bill lying on a table | Source: Midjourney

A one-dollar bill lying on a table | Source: Midjourney

Leaving my foster family was the hardest thing I had ever done. My biological parents took me to Europe, where we lived together. But it didn’t take long for their true colors to show. They weren’t doing well financially or emotionally, and two years later, they abandoned me in a park.

I was seven years old then, alone, and scared. I remember sitting on a park bench, clutching the dollar bill Steve had given me. It was the only piece of my past that I had left.

A black boy sitting alone on a bench in a park | Source: Midjourney

A black boy sitting alone on a bench in a park | Source: Midjourney

That day, I made a promise to myself. “No more orphanages and no more foster families, Dylan. You’re going to make it on your own.”

And so, for the next nine years, I lived on the streets, begging for money and doing odd jobs just to get by. Life was tough, and many nights I went to bed hungry. I learned to be resourceful and always kept that dollar bill close to me. It was a reminder of better times and the love I once knew.

A homeless black boy on the streets | Source: Midjourney

A homeless black boy on the streets | Source: Midjourney

One day, I met a homeless man named Jacob. He was older, with a kind face and a worn-out look. We struck up a friendship, and he took me under his wing.

“Hey, kid,” Jacob said one evening as we sat under a streetlight. “Got something for you.” He pulled out an old, tattered book he had found in the trash. “We’re gonna learn to read and write.”

Every evening, we’d sit together with that book. Jacob would patiently point at the words and say, “Dylan, you’ve got to learn this. It’s your way out of here.”

A black man on the street teaches a homeless black boy to read a book | Source: Midjourney

A black man on the street teaches a homeless black boy to read a book | Source: Midjourney

I soaked up everything he taught me, and slowly, I started to read and write. It felt like a small spark of hope in an otherwise bleak existence. I never told Jacob about the dollar bill or the message written on it.

It was my little secret, a connection to my past that I wasn’t ready to share. Life on the streets was tough, but Jacob and I managed to find small joys in the little things. We shared stories about our pasts, laughed about the absurdity of life, and dreamed about a better future.

A homeless black boy looks at the starry sky at night | Source: Midjourney

A homeless black boy looks at the starry sky at night | Source: Midjourney

“Jacob, do you think we’ll ever get out of here?” I asked one night, staring up at the stars.

Jacob smiled softly, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and reality. “Maybe, Dylan. But no matter what, we have to keep believing we can. That’s what keeps us going.”

Over time, Jacob became the closest thing to family I had, and his friendship kept me going through the darkest times. His belief in me was unwavering, and it was that belief that fueled my determination to survive and succeed.

A homeless black boy lying underneath a bridge | Source: Midjourney

A homeless black boy lying underneath a bridge | Source: Midjourney

One day, while lying under a bridge, I accidentally pulled out that same dollar bill my foster dad Steve had given me years ago. It was crumpled and faded, but the memory of Steve’s comforting words came rushing back.

I remembered there was supposed to be a message for me on it. So, with trembling hands, I unfolded it. Here’s what it said: “You are my son and always will be, no matter what. I always believed in you and always will. This dollar is lucky. With it, you will succeed, but you have to believe in yourself!”

A closeup shot of a black teenager holding an old and crumpled one-dollar bill | Source: Midjourney

A closeup shot of a black teenager holding an old and crumpled one-dollar bill | Source: Midjourney

Those words hit me hard. They reignited a spark inside me that had long been smothered by years of hardship. I read the message over and over, letting Steve’s belief in me sink in. Little did I know that this very message would radically change my life.

From that day on, I was determined to turn my life around. I started working harder than ever, taking on any job I could find. Mornings were spent cleaning up at a local diner.

A teenage black boy is washing dishes in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A teenage black boy is washing dishes in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

In the afternoons, I helped an old man named Mr. Johnson with his garden, and in the evenings, I worked as a dishwasher at a small restaurant. I barely had time to rest, but I didn’t care. I was on a mission.

One day, while I was scrubbing dishes in the back of the restaurant, an elderly man walked in. He had a distinguished air about him, and everyone seemed to know and respect him. He watched me work for a while, then approached me. “You’re quite the hard worker, aren’t you?” he said, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

An elderly man talks to a black guy in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

An elderly man talks to a black guy in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I wiped my hands on my apron and nodded. “I have to be. I don’t have much of a choice.”

He smiled. “What’s your name, son?”

“Dylan, sir.”

“Well, Dylan, I’m Mr. Brown. I’ve been watching you for a few days now, and I’m impressed by your dedication. How would you like to work for me?”

I was stunned. “Work for you? Doing what?”

“I need a driver. Someone reliable and hardworking. You fit the bill. I’ll help you get the necessary documents, a passport, and anything else you need.”

A black man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

A black man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Why me?”

Mr. Brown chuckled. “Because you remind me of myself when I was your age. Determined, hardworking, and willing to do whatever it takes. So, what do you say?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. I’d be honored.”

Working for Mr. Brown was the break I needed. He taught me everything he knew about business, and over the years, he became like a mentor to me. He showed me the ropes, and I soaked up every bit of knowledge he shared.

A black man flying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

A black man flying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

After a few years, he trusted me enough to appoint me as the manager of his company’s branch in the USA.

When I flew to the USA, the first thing I did was visit my foster parents’ house. They were older now, and when I knocked on the door, it took a moment for them to recognize me. But once I explained who I was, they hugged me in tears.

Steve, my foster dad, looked at me with pride in his eyes. “Dylan, is it really you?”

A black man hugging his white foster dad | Source: Midjourney

A black man hugging his white foster dad | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. “It’s me, Dad. I made it.”

I pulled out that same dollar bill, which I had kept safe all these years, and handed it to him. “It really works! This dollar is lucky!”

Steve smiled, a tear rolling down his cheek. “When you didn’t know it was lucky, you were homeless. As soon as you knew it was lucky, you succeeded. Maybe it’s not the dollar but you?”

I laughed through my tears and hugged him tight. “Maybe you’re right, Dad.”

A black man smiling while holding a crumpled one-dollar bill | Source: Midjourney

A black man smiling while holding a crumpled one-dollar bill | Source: Midjourney

He chuckled. “Besides, I pulled it out of my wallet just five minutes before I handed it to you all those years ago. I was deciding between a five-dollar bill and a one-dollar bill. I chose the one-dollar!”

We both laughed, holding each other close. It felt like coming home after a long, hard journey. I realized then that the true luck wasn’t in the dollar bill but in the love and belief Steve had always had in me.

A white elderly man is laughing with his black son at home | Source: Midjourney

A white elderly man is laughing with his black son at home | Source: Midjourney

Reuniting with my foster family felt like a full-circle moment. Despite all the hardships, I made it through, thanks to the love and support of my foster parents and the lessons learned from friends like Jacob.

Life had thrown many challenges my way, but with resilience, hard work, and a bit of luck, I had overcome them. And through it all, I learned that the most important thing was to believe in yourself, just as Steve had believed in me.

A happy black man standing in his office | Source: Midjourney

A happy black man standing in his office | Source: Midjourney

Want to explore more heartwarming stories? Click here to read another one: Imagine losing your everything, then defying the world to honor their memory. That’s where this story starts. My son, a dream tragically shattered, and a trip to Europe that took an unexpected turn: one that revealed the true depths of grief and love. Let me tell you about it.

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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