Inside the life and tragic death of this beloved actress

Markie Post was one of those rare TV presences who felt both luminous and down-to-earth. As Christine Sullivan on Night Court, she radiated wit, warmth, and a kind of effortless class that made you lean in and root for her. She was my first TV crush for exactly that reason—the sparkle in her eyes said as much as any punchline ever could.

Born Marjorie Post in 1950 to a nuclear physicist father and a poet mother, she grew up in Walnut Creek, California. “Markie” stuck after her siblings struggled with “Marjorie,” and the name fit her lively spirit. She tried to follow the family’s academic path—there was even a stint studying physics—but numbers never felt like home. Her first steps into entertainment were behind the scenes as a researcher on game shows like Split Second and Double Dare, where she joked she learned more than in four years of college.

The acting bug took hold in the late ’70s with guest spots on shows such as Cheers and Hart to Hart, then a breakout run on The Fall Guy as Terri Michaels. Even then, she wanted more than the “functionary” role on the caper-of-the-week—she craved parts with heart and texture. In 1985, she found exactly that when she joined Night Court after a season-two guest appearance.

As kindhearted public defender Christine, Markie turned chemistry into stardom, anchoring 159 episodes and turning a hit sitcom into a weekly comfort. She once shrugged off the “bombshell” label—“I’m no sexual siren. I see prettier girls than me in the grocery store every day”—but the camera loved her all the same. Fans knew: the beauty was just the entry point; the humor and humanity did the rest.

Her career stretched across decades and genres, from the cult comedy There’s Something About Mary to a memorable turn as Barbara “Bunny” Fletcher on Chicago P.D., where she showed a steelier, messier edge. She liked to say she was a leap-and-figure-it-out-later kind of actor—Wile E. Coyote running off the cliff and refusing to look down.

Off-screen, she built a long, steady life with writer-producer Michael A. Ross. They met in an acting class in the early ’80s, married soon after, settled in Toluca Lake, and raised two daughters, Kate and Daisy. When asked the secret to their nearly four decades together, she was matter-of-fact: commit to reaching the end together. Accept the boring days, the hard stretches, the frayed nerves—and treasure the 80 percent that’s wonderful.

In 2021, Markie died at 70 after a four-year fight with cancer—treatment she wryly called her “side job.” Even through chemo, she kept working, popping up in projects like The Kids Are Alright, still bringing that generous, twinkling presence to every set. Her family’s tribute captured her best: the woman who baked elaborate cakes for friends, sewed first-apartment curtains, and modeled kindness in a world that doesn’t always return it.

The remembrances poured in. Melissa Joan Hart, who played her daughter in Holiday in Handcuffs, called her “an angel here on earth,” and mourned the loss of a friend who embodied sweetness and strength. Fans echoed the same theme: Markie Post made you feel good—on screen and, by all accounts, in person.

Grace. Humor. Craft. A stubborn refusal to “look down” and lose her nerve. That’s the Markie I’ll remember. Rest easy, and thank you for all the light.