Why do we connect with celebrities’ deaths?

It’s the memory the famous people stir within us.

This question popped up when my cell phone signaled an incoming text this week. The phone is set up to receive breaking news text alerts from NBC News and from one of the TV stations where I used to work.

Chris Kelly (aka Mac Daddy) of the 1990s rap group Kriss Kross had died. They were best known for their 1992 song “Jump.”

My dance class was preparing to leave after our practice and I told everyone “Hey one of the guys from Kriss Kross died!”

Each dancer and the teacher looked at me blankly. No one had heard of Kriss Kriss. I then began to, of course, jump jump and to sing the song.

Still they gazed at me blankly.

Poor Mac Daddy. He’s dead way too young.

Within hours, coincidentally, my friend and TV news colleague Mike went on to Facebook to give what he described as a rant.

I’m not sure why people feel a connection to celebrity deaths and the unnecessary posting of their demise. You didn’t know them. If you cared so much, where were the updates of what they were doing when they were alive? And when did you become a news outlet [on Facebook]? Stop posting obituaries.

I assumed Mike was referring to people like me who reacted to the news with an “oh no” and then began to talk about the group with a little bit of passion. In my case it was in person. In other cases it was on Facebook.

I posted a response to Mike’s “rant” because the answer is easy.

Because the deaths often are those of people who had a place in memories of childhood or other times in our lives. For example, when Alex Karras died last October, the passing triggered memories of nights with my parents and sister watching the TV show Webster. It’s often not the “person” but the feeling the person evokes.

 

I looked back at what I posted on Facebook when Karras passed.

Awwww George Papadapolis from “Webster” has died!

Mike– the same one who had recently delivered what he called a “rant”– said “I never thought forever was the best I could do, then came you. Poor Mongo.”

He had some memory stirred in him by Karras’ death.

My other co-worker Albert said, “Heck of Defensive Tackle in his day. Also great as “Mongo” in Blazing Saddles. Loved his complete DISDAIN for Howard Cosell when they were both on Monday Night Football.”

It’s not that we’re all rabid fans or followers of the actors, football players, or singers who die. It’s really all about how we feel about memories stirred by their deaths.

Apparently 1992 made me “Jump jump. Mac Daddy made me jump jump.”