SOTD – Inside the life and tragic death of this beloved actress!

Markie Post wasn’t just another familiar sitcom face — she radiated a kind of warmth that stuck with people long after the credits rolled. She had that rare mix of charm, intelligence, sincerity, and effortless comedic timing that made her stand out in every role she touched. Even if you only caught reruns of her work, she had a presence that made you pause and smile. She felt genuine. She felt kind. And losing her in 2021, at just 70, still feels like losing a bright light too soon.

For the last four years of her life, she fought a brutal battle with cancer. Yet she kept working, kept showing up, kept choosing to live fully. That alone tells you who she was — someone who refused to let illness steal the parts of her life she loved most.

Most people remember her best as Christine Sullivan on Night Court. That show was lightning in a bottle — sharp writing, quick humor, and a cast that clicked in a way sitcoms rarely achieve. And in the heart of that chaos, Markie shined. Across 159 episodes, from 1985 to 1992, she delivered every line with honesty and ease. She wasn’t just playing a character — she was shaping one of the decade’s most memorable TV roles. For so many fans of the ’70s and ’80s, she was the ideal: funny, smart, relatable, and strikingly beautiful without the ego that often comes with it.

Decades later, she stepped into the world of Chicago P.D. as Barbara “Bunny” Fletcher, proving again that she wasn’t limited to one era or style. Whether she was comedic, dramatic, or somewhere in between, she brought depth and humanity into every scene.

Her story started far from Hollywood glamour. Markie grew up in Walnut Creek, California, in a home balanced between logic and creativity. Her father — a nuclear physicist — approached everything with precision. Her mother — a poet — lived in emotion and expression. Markie always described herself as a blend of the two: a practical dreamer.

Born Marjorie Post in 1950, she became “Markie” because her siblings struggled to pronounce her name. She was a cheerleader in high school, full of energy and ambition. She headed to college planning to study physics, following her father’s cerebral path, but she later admitted she struggled with the coursework — something her father tried to “help” with by repeating, “It’s so easy,” a line she laughed about years later. She adored him anyway.

What many fans never knew is that Markie didn’t start as an actress at all. Before she appeared onscreen, she worked behind the cameras as a researcher on game shows like Split Second and Double Dare. She joked more than once that she learned more during her game-show days than in all her years of college.

Those behind-the-scenes jobs gradually opened doors to small acting roles — guest appearances on classics like Cheers and Hart to Hart. Then came the career-making leap: Terri Michaels on The Fall Guy, running from 1982 to 1986. She could have stayed in that comfort zone, but Markie wanted more — more challenge, more depth, more opportunity to stretch.

That ambition led her to Night Court. Her guest appearance was so strong that producers quickly knew they needed her full-time. By season three, she was the new female lead.

Despite her success, Markie never saw herself as glamorous. She once said, “I’m no sexual siren. I see prettier girls than me in the grocery store every day.” But fans disagreed — loudly. She had a natural beauty and a spark onscreen that wasn’t about perfection. It was about authenticity.

Through the ’90s and 2000s, she continued building an impressive, varied career. A whole new generation met her through There’s Something About Mary, where she played Mary’s mother with the same effortless blend of humor and heart she was known for.

Behind the fame, Markie built a deeply rooted personal life. She met actor and writer Michael A. Ross in an acting class, and the two married in the early ’80s. They stayed together for nearly four decades, raising two daughters — Kate and Daisy — in a home filled with creativity, warmth, and the kind of love that doesn’t need publicity. Markie spoke honestly about marriage, saying the secret was choosing to stay through the dull moments, the rough patches, and the days when you get on each other’s nerves. “If it’s wonderful 80 percent of the time,” she said, “you’re really lucky.”

Her final years were marked by resilience. She endured continuous chemotherapy but refused to disappear. She still acted, still gave everything she had to her craft, including a recurring role on The Kids Are Alright. Her family later said they were proud of her career but even more proud of the life she built — the woman who baked elaborate cakes for birthdays, who sewed curtains for her daughters’ first apartments, who showed up for friends and family with kindness even on her bad days.

When she passed, fellow actors and colleagues spoke about her with heartbreak and admiration. Melissa Joan Hart, who worked with her on Holiday in Handcuffs, wrote about Markie’s warmth and generosity — qualities echoed by countless others who knew her.

Markie didn’t broadcast her struggle. She didn’t ask for sympathy. She stayed true to who she had always been: brave, loyal, funny, hardworking, and full of life.

Her death left a hole for those who admired her, but her legacy remains alive in every performance she left behind. Every time someone laughs at a Night Court episode or rediscovers her in a movie, that spark flickers back to life.

Rest in peace, Markie Post. Thank you for the laughter, the heart, and the decades of light you gave the world.