‘Beverly Hills Cop’ Legend John Ashton Passes Away at 76 – His Family’s Final Wish Will Move You

John Ashton, famous for playing Detective John Taggart in the “Beverly Hills Cop” movies, has sadly passed away at the age of 76. Now, his family has a special request.

Keep reading to learn more.

John Ashton died peacefully in Ft. Collins, Colorado, this past Thursday. His family and friends are heartbroken over his loss.

He passed away after bravely fighting cancer, according to his representative, Alan Somers. Somers shared that Ashton’s legacy is one of “love, dedication, and service,” and his family will continue to celebrate his life. He is survived by his wife, children, grandchildren, siblings, and more.

To honor the late actor’s life and legacy, the family is asking for donations to be made to Pathways Hospice Care in his memory.

Ashton was a well-known name in Hollywood for over 50 years, lighting up screens with more than 200 film, TV, and stage performances. While fans loved many of his roles, it was his portrayal of the straight-laced detective alongside Eddie Murphy’s wild cop character, Axel Foley, that made him a household name.

Ashton’s character, Detective Billy Rosewood, provided the perfect contrast to his co-star’s character, adding energy and humor to the films.

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The film was a major success and established Ashton’s name in Hollywood. In July of this year, “Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F” premiered. In an interview, Ashton revealed that the film had taken 20 years to make before finally being released.

He mentioned there was a lot of uncertainty surrounding the film, to the point that he had given up on the idea and moved on to other projects. By the time he received a call about the film, he was already working on another project in Chicago.

After finishing his film, he went to L.A. to meet director Mark Molloy. Ashton knew that the film could only move forward if Murphy approved the script.

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He said he knew he could fully commit to the project when Murphy greenlit the script and Jerry Bruckheimer joined as a producer.

In addition to his iconic role in “Beverly Hills Cop,” Ashton also had notable appearances in the show “M*A*S*H” and played Eric Stoltz’s father in the John Hughes comedy-drama “Some Kind of Wonderful.”

He started his career at a young age, with his first professional role in a production of “Othello” at the Hartford Stage Company. He later toured the world in various theater productions.

Ashton received great recognition for his acting, including an LA Method Fest award for Best Supporting Actor for his role in “Once Upon a River.”

He also appeared in several films, including “Death in Texas” (2020), “American Christmas” (2019), and “My Little Baby” (2019), among others.

Beyond his career, he was a devoted family man. He leaves behind his wife of 24 years, Robin Hoye, and his children, Michelle and Michael Thomas Ashton.

He is also survived by his stepchildren, Courtney Donovan, Lindsay Curcio, and Ashley Hoye, as well as his grandson Henry, his sisters Sharon Ann Ashton and Linda Jean Ashton, and his brother Edward Richard Ashton.

My Stepdaughter Surprised Me with a Car for My 55th Birthday, Discovering What Was Inside the Glove Box Left Me Speechless

Receiving a car from my stepdaughter, Emily, on my 55th birthday was the last thing I expected, especially given our rocky relationship. She handed me the keys and mentioned there was another surprise in the glove compartment. What I found inside changed everything between us.

Being a stepmom often feels like a balancing act, trying to be a parent without overstepping boundaries. For ten years, I navigated this tightrope with Emily. I met her father, David, at work, and after becoming friends, we started dating. He had lost his wife a year before we met, and his focus was on Emily, his cherished daughter. As our relationship deepened, I wondered about our future together. David expressed his love for me but worried about how Emily would react to a new stepmother.

When I married David, I knew it would be complicated. Emily was only 12 and still grieving her mother. My first meeting with her was tense; she barely spoke and quickly retreated to her room. This set the tone for our relationship. I tried my best to connect, but she remained distant, polite but always keeping me at arm’s length.

I remember putting together a surprise party for her 13th birthday, hoping it would help us bond. Although she smiled at the decorations, she still held back emotionally, creating a barrier between us. Despite the challenges, David and I were happy together. However, everything changed when David died in a car accident five years ago, leaving Emily and me to navigate our grief alone.

In that dark time, I promised to be there for Emily. But even as we became each other’s only family, I sensed that she merely tolerated me. As she grew more independent, starting a career in marketing, our interactions felt more like a formality than a genuine connection. I longed for a warm relationship, but it often felt one-sided.

Last Thanksgiving was particularly hard; Emily barely acknowledged me at a family gathering, deepening my feelings of being an outsider. So, when Emily called just before my birthday to take me out for a special dinner, I felt a flicker of hope. She picked me up in a sleek red convertible, and I thought it might finally be a sign of her acceptance.

When she handed me the keys, her voice felt distant and flat, almost like she was just fulfilling an obligation. I managed to thank her, but the dinner felt awkward and forced. It was hard to shake the feeling that the car was more of a way to alleviate her guilt than a genuine gift.

As we parked, Emily mentioned another surprise in the glove compartment. My heart raced as I opened it, revealing a stack of drawings from her childhood. My breath caught as I saw the stick-figure versions of us, with me labeled as “Mom” and captions like “Mom and Me”.

Tears filled my eyes as the realization hit: Emily had seen me as her mom all along, despite the distance between us. When I expressed my shock, she admitted she loved me but felt guilty calling me “Mom” because of her birth mother.

In that moment, the walls that had stood between us for years crumbled. We embraced tightly, tears streaming down our faces. That evening, we shared everything—our fears, doubts, and cherished moments. Finally, I felt the deep bond of a mother and daughter.

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