If you grew up watching black-and-white television, Don DeFore was basically your second dad or that one neighbor you actually liked. He had this easygoing, Midwestern charm that felt permanent. Whether he was playing "Thorny" on The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet or the slightly harried Mr. B on Hazel, he was a fixture of the American living room.
Then, he was just gone.
Honestly, when a celebrity of that era passes away, the news cycle moves differently than it does now. There weren’t any viral tweets or 24-hour news crawls. People just opened the morning paper and saw the headline. Because DeFore was so associated with the "Golden Age" of wholesome TV, people still get fuzzy on the details of his passing. There are rumors, sure, but the reality is much more straightforward—and a bit of a reminder that even the most energetic stars are human.
Don DeFore Cause of Death: What Really Happened in 1993
Don DeFore died of cardiac arrest.
It happened on the evening of December 22, 1993. He was at Saint John's Health Center in Santa Monica, California. He was 80 years old, which is a respectable run, but his death felt sudden to fans who still saw him as the vibrant George Baxter from Hazel.
Cardiac arrest is often confused with a heart attack, but they aren’t the same thing. A heart attack is a plumbing problem—a blockage. Cardiac arrest is an electrical one. The heart just stops beating effectively. For a man who had spent decades under the high-pressure lights of Hollywood sets and serving as the President of the Television Academy, his heart simply gave out after eight decades of life.
He didn't die alone or in some mysterious Hollywood scandal. He was surrounded by his family. He had been married to his wife, Marion Holmes, since 1942. Think about that for a second. In an industry known for "starter marriages" and messy divorces, DeFore stayed with the same woman for over 50 years. That’s almost unheard of.
✨ Don't miss: The Billy Bob Tattoo: What Angelina Jolie Taught Us About Inking Your Ex
Why People Still Search for the Details
You might wonder why we’re still talking about the Don DeFore cause of death over thirty years later.
It's nostalgia. Plain and simple.
When we lose figures like DeFore, a little piece of that idealized 1950s Americana dies with them. He represented a time when problems were solved in thirty minutes (minus commercials) and neighbors actually talked over the fence.
There’s also the "Mandela Effect" of classic TV. People sometimes misremember how these stars passed. I’ve seen forums where people swear he died much younger or that he was a heavy smoker who succumbed to lung cancer. While DeFore, like many of his generation, was around smoke constantly on sets, it was his heart that eventually dictated the end of his story.
The Man Beyond the "Mr. B" Persona
Don DeFore wasn't just an actor who showed up, said his lines, and went home. He was a power player.
- The Television Academy: He served as president from 1954 to 1955. He was actually the first person to sell the Emmy Awards broadcast to a national network. If you enjoy the glitzy Emmy telecasts today, you kind of have Don to thank for that.
- Disneyland Royalty: This is a wild bit of trivia—Don DeFore was the only person ever allowed to own a private restaurant inside Disneyland. It was called "Don DeFore's Silver Banjo Barbecue" in Frontierland. It ran from 1957 to 1962. Imagine being so liked by Walt Disney that he lets you set up shop in his park.
- Politics: He wasn't just a face on screen; he was a delegate at the Republican National Convention. He was close friends with Ronald Reagan.
He was busy. Maybe that pace contributed to the strain on his heart over time, but he lived a "full throttle" life for someone who played such a relaxed character on screen.
🔗 Read more: Birth Date of Pope Francis: Why Dec 17 Still Matters for the Church
The Health Challenges of the Golden Age Stars
It’s worth looking at the context of health in the early 90s for stars of DeFore's era.
Medicine wasn't quite where it is today regarding preventative cardiology. Statins were relatively new to the market in the late 80s. The aggressive management of blood pressure and cholesterol that we see today wasn't the standard when DeFore was in his prime.
Many actors from that generation—men like Ozzie Nelson or William Frawley—dealt with significant cardiovascular issues. The lifestyle of that era involved high stress, rich food, and a complete lack of the "cardio culture" we have now. By the time DeFore reached his late 70s, the wear and tear on his cardiovascular system was significant.
He had been dealing with declining health in the weeks leading up to his admission to Saint John's. While the specific "event" was cardiac arrest, it was the culmination of a long-term decline that often goes unseen by the public. We like to think of our TV heroes as frozen in time, but the reality is that the transition from a 1950s lifestyle to the modern age was hard on that generation's health.
Setting the Record Straight on the "Hazel" Curse
You've probably heard of the "curse" of various TV shows. People love to find patterns in tragedy.
Some fans pointed to the deaths of the Hazel cast as evidence of something spooky. Shirley Booth (Hazel herself) died about a year before DeFore in 1992. Bobby Buntrock, who played the little boy Harold, died tragically young in a car accident in 1974.
💡 You might also like: Kanye West Black Head Mask: Why Ye Stopped Showing His Face
But let’s be real. There was no curse.
Shirley Booth was 94. Don DeFore was 80. Whitney Blake (who played Mrs. B) passed from cancer at 76. Aside from Buntrock’s tragic accident, the cast of Hazel actually lived quite long lives. The interest in the Don DeFore cause of death often stems from this desire to connect dots that don't really exist. He lived a long, successful life and died of natural causes related to his age.
A Legacy That Outlasts the Headlines
DeFore's death didn't spark a media circus because there was no "dirt" to find.
He was a family man. He was a veteran of the stage (Broadway) and screen (over 30 films). He was a guy from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, who made it big but never really lost that "aw shucks" vibe.
When he passed, his son Ron DeFore became a bit of a keeper of the flame. If you really want to understand the man behind the cardiac arrest reports, you should look into his son’s writings. He describes a father who was deeply involved in his community and who took his role as a public figure seriously.
Actionable Steps for Classic TV Fans
If you're researching Don DeFore because you miss that era of television or you're curious about the health of vintage stars, here’s how to actually engage with his history:
- Watch "The Facts of Life" (1960): Not the sitcom, but the movie with Bob Hope and Lucille Ball. DeFore is great in it. It shows his range beyond just being the "straight man" to a maid or a teenager.
- Visit the Archives: The Television Academy has records of DeFore's presidency. It’s fascinating to see how he navigated the transition of TV from a local novelty to a national powerhouse.
- Check Out "Growing Up in Disneyland": This is the book written by his son, Ron. It gives the best "behind the scenes" look at Don’s life, including his friendship with Walt Disney and how he balanced fame with being a father.
- Support Cardiac Health Research: Since cardiac arrest is what ultimately took him, supporting organizations like the American Heart Association is a great way to honor his memory. Understanding the difference between a heart attack and cardiac arrest can literally save lives.
Don DeFore wasn't a victim of some dark Hollywood mystery. He was an 80-year-old man whose heart had worked hard for decades—entertaining millions, running organizations, and raising a family. He passed away in a hospital, not a tabloid headline. That might seem "boring" to some, but in the world of celebrity history, a peaceful passing after a long and fruitful life is the best ending anyone could ask for.
If you find yourself watching an old rerun of Hazel tonight, remember that the guy playing Mr. B was much more than just a foil for a feisty maid. He was a pioneer of the medium, and while his heart stopped in 1993, his influence on how we watch TV today is still very much alive.