Nicholas Pryor, a well-known actor recognized for his long career in movies and TV, has passed away at the age of 89. Pryor, famous for playing fatherly roles to young stars, died on October 7 at his home in Wilmington, North Carolina, after a battle with cancer. His wife, Christine Belford, shared the sad news with The Hollywood Reporter.

Pryor’s death has left both Hollywood and his fans mourning. A message shared by The Hollywood Reporter on October 8 stated, “Nicholas Pryor was enormously grateful to have been a working actor for nearly 70 years.” He had a long, successful career and was thankful for all the opportunities he had in the entertainment industry.

Jon Lindstrom, one of Pryor’s co-stars from the TV shows Port Charles and General Hospital, also paid tribute to him on Instagram. He called Pryor an “Actor’s actor,” meaning someone who was highly respected in the acting world. But beyond work, Lindstrom shared that Pryor was a close friend. He wrote, “He was my friend, mentor, and even a father figure, not just on-screen but in real life too.” Lindstrom remembered how funny Pryor was and how much fun they had spending time together, especially over good food and wine. Lindstrom said he would miss him deeply.

Fans reacted strongly to Lindstrom’s tribute. Many expressed their sadness, remembering Pryor’s roles in popular shows like Eight Is Enough and Beverly Hills, 90210. One fan wrote, “I’m so saddened by Nicholas Pryor’s passing. He was an amazing actor.” Others shared their shock at the news and thanked Lindstrom for his heartfelt tribute, saying Pryor’s work would always be remembered.
In addition to Lindstrom, Pryor’s agent, Susan Tolar Walters, also shared her sorrow, calling him “one of the nicest people” she had ever met. Jeff Maxwell, who runs a podcast about the TV show MASH*, where Pryor made a guest appearance, also paid tribute to the actor.

Born on January 28, 1935, in Baltimore, Maryland, Pryor’s full name was Nicholas David Probst. He began his acting career on Broadway before moving into film and TV. Over the course of his career, Pryor acted in more than 170 roles, showing his talent in both comedy and drama.
Pryor was best known for his roles in TV shows like The Secret Storm, Beverly Hills, 90210, All My Children, and Another World. He also appeared as a guest star in well-loved series like The West Wing and NYPD Blue. In a video interview shared on YouTube on October 9, Pryor talked about his time on Beverly Hills, 90210 and how much he enjoyed watching his wife, Christine, guest-star on the show. He said it made him happy to see her having such a good time with the cast and crew.

Pryor wasn’t just a TV actor. He also had memorable roles in movies. He appeared in films like Airplane!, Damien: Omen II, and The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 1. He played the father of Tom Cruise’s character in Risky Business and Robert Downey Jr.’s character in Less Than Zero. His last role was in the 2021 movie Halloween Kills.
Nicholas Pryor is survived by his wife, Christine, his daughter Stacey, and his two grandchildren, Auguste and Avril. They will carry on his memory and the impact he left behind in his nearly 70-year acting career.
We Adopted a Rescue Dog — The Next Night, My 8-Year-Old Son Was Gone
What began as a simple family outing to adopt a rescue dog quickly turned into a night of panic, hidden secrets, and difficult truths. That night made me question everything I believed about trust and family.
Last weekend, I thought I lost my son.

It all started with a dog. My son, Andy, had been begging for one for months. Every day, he’d ask, “Dad, can we please, please get a dog?” He was relentless, and I was getting close to giving in. But he also had to convince Kelly, my wife.
After a lot of talking, my wife finally agreed. She looked at me seriously and said, “Fine, but only if it’s small and well-behaved. We’re not getting some big, messy mutt.”
Kelly had grown up in a tidy home, where pets were seen as small, clean, and polite. A poodle or a Yorkie, maybe, but definitely not a scruffy dog. Our son, though, wanted a real friend.

The shelter was loud, full of barking and howling. Andy’s eyes lit up as we walked down the rows of kennels, skipping over the fluffy dogs we were supposed to be considering.
Then he stopped. In front of us was a kennel with the scruffiest dog I’d ever seen. She had tangled fur, big brown eyes, and a tail that looked crooked. She didn’t bark, just looked at us, tilting her head as if curious.
I squatted down next to Andy. “She’s not exactly what your mom wanted, buddy.”
“She needs us,” he said, looking at me with a stubborn glint. “Look at her. She’s… sad. We could make her happy.”

“All right,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Let’s bring her home.”
When we walked in, my wife’s face fell. “She’s a little scruffier than I imagined,” she said, glancing between the dog and me.
“Come on, Daisy’s great,” I said, grinning. “Besides, they’re already best friends.”
She forced a small smile, looking unconvinced. “I just hope she doesn’t ruin the carpets.”
That evening, as we got ready for bed, Daisy wouldn’t settle down. She paced around, whining softly.
“Can’t you do something about that?” Kelly sighed, looking irritated.
“She’s probably nervous being in a new place,” I said. “Maybe she just needs some attention.”
Kelly hesitated, then swung her legs over the bed. “Fine. I’ll give her a treat or something,” she muttered and left the room.

Minutes later, she returned, saying, “She just needed a treat.” She climbed into bed, and the whining stopped.
I woke up around 3 a.m. to a strange quiet. Something felt wrong. I got up to check on Andy. His bed was empty, the covers on the floor, and the window slightly open.
A cold panic crept over me.
I rushed down the hall, checking every room, calling his name louder each time. But he was nowhere.
I ran back to the bedroom and shook my wife awake. “He’s not in his room,” I said, my voice shaking. “The window’s open. Daisy’s gone too.”
She sat up, her eyes wide, but there was something else—guilt?
“Maybe she escaped, and he went after her?” I asked, desperate for an answer.

She bit her lip, hesitating. “I don’t… I don’t know,” she stammered.
I picked up my phone and called the police, praying he was somewhere nearby.
Just as I was about to step outside, there was a soft scratching at the door.
When I opened it, Daisy sat there, covered in mud, panting. I dropped to one knee, feeling a mix of relief and confusion.
“Daisy?” I whispered. “Where were you?”
It felt strange to ask a dog, but I was desperate. She just looked up at me with tired eyes.

Hours later, just as dawn broke, my phone buzzed. It was Mrs. Carver, an elderly neighbor who lived nearby.
“I saw a little boy near the woods behind my house,” she said. “He looked… lost.”
I thanked her, grabbed my keys, and headed to the car. Kelly and Daisy followed, looking tense. The woods weren’t far, but it felt like miles.
When we arrived, I ran into the woods, calling his name. And then, finally, I saw him.
He was curled up under a tree, shivering, his face dirty. I knelt beside him, pulling him close.
“Buddy,” I said, my voice breaking. “You scared us half to death.”
He looked up, his face lighting up when he saw Daisy behind me. She’d followed us, sniffing the ground.

“Daisy,” he whispered, hugging her. “I thought you ran away because of me.”
I picked him up, wrapping him in my arms. “Let’s go home, all right?”
He nodded, looking back at Daisy like she was the only thing keeping him safe.
When we got back to the house, relief washed over me. My son was safe, Daisy was with us, but something still felt off.
My wife was tense, her eyes avoiding mine. She seemed distant, almost nervous. After we’d settled Andy on the couch with a blanket, I turned to her.

“I swear I locked the door. How did Daisy get out?”
She looked down, her hands twisting. After a long pause, she took a deep breath. “I… I let her out.”
I stared, not understanding. “You… let her out?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought… maybe if she disappeared, he’d get over it. She wasn’t the dog I wanted. She’s… scruffy, and I didn’t think she fit here.”
I felt anger and hurt boiling inside. “So you just… let her go?”
“I didn’t know he’d… he’d go after her,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I thought he’d be sad, then move on. I didn’t want this mess. I just wanted things to be normal.”

“Normal?” I repeated. “You put him in danger because you couldn’t handle a little mess?”
She sank into a chair, covering her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d do something so brave or that Daisy would stay with him. I didn’t think.”
I shook my head, struggling to understand. I looked at Andy, snuggled up with Daisy on the couch, her head on his lap. They’d bonded through something none of us had expected.
“I don’t know how we move past this,” I said quietly. “But for now… Daisy stays. She’s part of this family, and you need to accept that.”
She nodded, wiping her eyes, realizing the weight of what had happened.

As I watched Andy stroke Daisy’s fur, a small, hopeful warmth rose in my chest. Family wasn’t about having things perfect. Sometimes, it was about the imperfect moments, the scruffy dogs, and the quiet forgiveness that held us all together.
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