She lit up our screens in the ’80s and made us believe beauty and brains could go hand in hand — now she’s gone, just days before her 80th birthday

It’s hard to believe that Loni Anderson — the unforgettable Jennifer Marlowe from WKRP in Cincinnati — is no longer with us. She passed away in Los Angeles after a long illness, just shy of turning 80. And while the news feels sudden, the weight of her legacy settles in slowly, like the final scene of a show you never wanted to end.

For anyone who watched TV in the late ’70s and early ’80s, Loni wasn’t just a character — she was the moment. She took what could’ve been a one-dimensional “pretty blonde” role and gave it warmth, wit, and steel. As Jennifer, the station’s high-heeled receptionist who was always the smartest person in the room, she flipped expectations on their head. Men underestimated her. Viewers didn’t. She showed us that intelligence and glamour could exist in the same breath — and that being underestimated was often your greatest strength.

Offscreen, her life was just as layered. She lived boldly and loved loudly — especially during her high-profile marriage to Burt Reynolds. Their whirlwind romance made headlines, but their son, Quinton, was the chapter she cherished most. “The best decision we ever made,” she once said. And that says a lot from someone who lived through the flashbulbs and fallout of Hollywood’s harshest spotlights.

Loni never held back from sharing her truth — even when it meant exposing the messy, painful parts. In her memoir My Life in High Heels, she wasn’t out to stir up headlines. She opened up about a woman learning to grow, to heal, and to stay standing in a world that tried to knock her down. Her quiet strength said it all — and left a lasting mark.

In one of her last roles, she reunited with other ’80s icons for Ladies of the 80s: A Divas Christmas. It felt like a love letter to the era — and in hindsight, maybe it was her graceful goodbye.

She leaves behind a loving family, including her husband Bob Flick, her children, grandchildren, and countless fans who still smile when they think of her walking into a room, all blonde hair and quiet brilliance, knowing exactly what needed to be done.

They say the brightest stars shine just before they fade — but Loni didn’t just shine, she radiated. There was something undeniably golden about her, a kind of warmth that didn’t dim with age or fame. And even now, her light doesn’t feel gone. It feels like it’s still with us, quietly glowing in the memories she left behind.

Rest easy, Jennifer. The office will never be the same.