Tanya Roberts was one of the sexiest and funniest actresses of her time, dazzling audiences with her stunning beauty and talent in That ’70s Show and Charlie’s Angels.
Tragically, her unexpected passing was marked by confusion, as her boyfriend mistakenly announced her death , adding a bizarre twist to the loss of this vibrant star.
Before we dive into the bizarre circumstances surrounding Tanya Roberts’ passing, let’s take a moment to celebrate her incredible contributions to the screen.
In a world where her legacy seems somewhat overlooked today, a closer look at her impressive career reveals just how unforgettable she truly was. And I’m sure she created cherished memories for many of you reading this.
Running away from home
Born Victoria Leigh Blum in 1949, Tanya Roberts grew up in the gritty Bronx of New York City. The little girl with ice-blue eyes lived in a poor old house with her mother and big sisters. Despite her modest life, Roberts had big dreams of wearing beautiful clothes, riding horses, living in a mansion, and shopping in limousines. Most of all, she wanted to be a star in Hollywood.
At just 15 years old, she took a bold step and ran away to chase her dreams. This was after her family had moved to Toronto, where a tragic event would lead Roberts to distance herself from them. One day, shortly after her father tragically passed away, Tanya felt the walls closing in on her.
In that moment, she decided to leave home. After a heated argument with her mother, Roberts packed her bags and moved to a place in the Village, a neighborhood in Toronto. She supported herself by selling dance lessons to ”old guys”, who lusted after her body.
It wasn’t long before she met another boy, Colin, who had also dropped out of school. She fell head over heels for him.
“It just happened. A stupid, spontaneous thing. Colin was two years older than me, a Canadian, a dropout, doing nothing. It was a love affair that turned into hatred. We never were friends. We didn’t get along at all. But I loved him, you know. I was butterflies. I’d look at him and gasp, ‘Oh my God!’ I responded to the palpitations of the heart.”
Married in secret
The couple was together for seven months and married in secret. They moved to New York together, but then Colin’s mother intervened, annulling the marriage. Roberts and Colin were far too young and hadn’t received their parents’ consent.
Roberts never told her mother about the marriage; she didn’t want to shock her. Soon after, the relationship with Colin ended, but another man entered Roberts’s life— one who would change her whole life.
As Tanya Roberts pursued her acting dreams in New York, she met Barry Roberts while waiting in line for a movie. He was a truck driver earning $30 a week, and he quickly became her next great love.
It was actually Tanya who proposed to Barry in a subway station, and they quickly tied the knot in 1973. Her husband had originally set his sights on becoming a psychologist but soon dropped out of his studies to write scripts for various TV networks.
The couple moved to Hollywood, determined to lead as normal a life as possible.
”You know you’ve got the right guy when you can sit at home with him Saturday night, just you and him and pizza,” Tanya shared in 1980.
For most of their lives, Tanya and Barry lived peacefully and happily, tucked away in the serene and private surroundings of their secluded home in the Hollywood Hills.
“Living here is like being in the country, but civilization isn’t far away when I need it,” Tanya exclusively shared with Closer Weekly in 2015. “It’s the house I’d always dreamed of.”
Spell on Charlie’s Angels
Tanya Roberts’ upbringing on the streets of Bronx served her well when she landed the role of the streetwise Julie Roberts in Charlie’s Angels. Before that, she had already made a name for herself as a model in television ads and took on serious roles in off-Broadway productions like Picnic and Antigone.
However, it was in the summer of 1980 that the world truly took notice of her.
Tanya was chosen from over 2,000 candidates to replace Shelley Hack in the beloved detective series Charlie’s Angels, which was struggling to attract viewers.
The producers hoped that the vibrant 26-year-old would inject new life into the show alongside her co-stars, Jaclyn Smith, the last original ‘Angel,’ and Cheryl Ladd. With her charisma and talent, Tanya was determined to help turn the series around.
”I think there’s a lot of enthusiasm on the set. We are a real team. It’s very important for us to get along because it shows in our work. I think it’s hard do continually make a classy show every week for five years with three girls. It’s not Shakespeare but I think the public looks forward to seeing something new every week,” Roberts told The Daily Herald-Tribune in 1981.
Unfortunately, despite her efforts, Roberts — who described herself as a ‘workaholic’— couldn’t revive the series, and Charlie’s Angels was canceled in 1981.
However, her talent and dedication led to new opportunities in her career.
Nominated for Golden Raspberry Award
After Charlie’s Angels, Robert’s starred in a string of films that gained cult status, including The Beastmaster (1982), Sheena: Queen of the Jungle (1984), Body Slam (1987), and Night Eyes (1990).
Most people, however, associate her with her iconic roles as Stacey Sutton in the 1985 James Bond film A View to a Kill and as Midge Pinciotti on That ’70s Show, where she captivated audiences from 1998 to 2004.
In A View to a Kill, Tanya Roberts starred alongside Roger Moore, and the film became a massive box office success. However, critics weren’t entirely convinced; in retrospect, Moore himself expressed disappointment, stating that it was his worst Bond film due to its excessive blood and violence.
At 57, the Hollywood legend faced criticism for being too old for the role, and he even quipped about the age gap, revealing that he was mortified to discover he was older than Roberts’ mother. In a December 2007 interview, he humorously remarked, ”I was only about four hundred years too old for the part.”
Tanya, too, faced her share of criticism after her Bond debut. Interestingly, she wasn’t the original choice for the role. Producers had initially hoped to cast Priscilla Presley, but she was tied up with her contract for Dallas. They even considered former Bond girl Barbara Bach before ultimately selecting Tanya Roberts. Despite her efforts, she was nominated for a Golden Raspberry Award for Worst Actress, although she lost the dubious honor to Linda Blair, who appeared in Night Patrol.
Losing her husband
For the younger generation, many recognize Tanya Roberts from her role as Midge Pinciotti on the beloved sitcom That ’70s Show. She was a cherished presence on the show but had to leave after the third season.
The reason? Her husband, Barry, had become seriously ill, and she wanted to be there for him. Tragically, Barry died at the age of 60 after a long four-and-a-half-year battle with encephalitis, a condition that causes inflammation of the brain tissue, leading to personality changes, seizures, and weakness.
Tanya and Barry stood by each other from their marriage in 1973 until his passing in 2006. The couple never had any children.
Mysterious death
After the heartbreaking loss of her husband Barry in 2006, Tanya Roberts found love again with Lance O’Brien. The two met while working for Tahiti Village, a Las Vegas resort — Tanya as a spokesmodel. They spent 18 years together, seemingly inseparable, but their world took a tragic turn in December 2020.
At 71, Tanya was still vibrant and full of life, known for her daily hikes up the Hollywood Hills. Described as ”healthy as a horse,” there was no indication of any serious health issues. However, just before Christmas, Tanya began experiencing lower intestinal pain and difficulty breathing.
These symptoms surfaced during one of her hikes, and though she initially thought it might be COVID-19. Early the next morning, she collapsed, unable to get up, and was rushed to Cedars-Sinai Hospital.
Doctors determined Tanya had developed a severe urinary tract infection that had progressed to sepsis. The infection quickly spread to her liver, kidneys, and gallbladder, ultimately leading to multi-organ failure.
Tubes up her nose
“She was talking when I called 911. Next thing I know, she’s in intensive care on oxygen and she’s extremely sick,” O’Brien shared with the Daily Mail.
When O’Brien was finally allowed to see her, Tanya was barely conscious, kept alive by a ventilator. The iconic actress, who had once graced screens as a glamorous star, could only blink in response to her partner’s presence.
”When she saw me and I was there, I saw her eyes open,” he said. “I felt good. I said, ‘Hey, her eyes are opening. Her eyes are opening.’ They told me that’s just a reflex,” O’Brien told Inside Edition.
Sadly, Tanya’s final days were both chaotic and heartbreaking.
O’Brien expressed his frustration with the hospital’s handling of Tanya’s care, stating, “She had tubes up her nose and throat, and they kept calling her Victoria —she hasn’t been called that since she was a teenager. It was so busy, I can’t begin to tell you what an awful, terrible experience it was.”
“I think COVID played a big part in it,” O’Brien added. “If you called the hospital, it sounded like something out of [sitcom] M.A.S.H.”
Cause of death
Tanya’s condition worsened, and on January 3, 2021, she was taken off life support. The beloved star passed away on January 4.
However, the aftermath of her death was even more chaotic. The news of Tanya’s passing was initially announced prematurely by her publicist, leading to confusion.
In a bizarre twist, O’Brien learned she was still alive during a live interview with Inside Edition.
“Now, you’re telling me she’s alive?” O’Brien exclaimed, answering a phone call from the hospital mid-interview. Crying, he added, “The hospital is telling me she is alive. They are calling me from the ICU team.”
Eventually, all the confusion cleared up, and it became evident that Tanya Roberts had indeed passed away. However, the mix-ups didn’t stop there – several sources incorrectly reported her age as 65 at the time of her death. Despite the fact that she was actually 71, some outlets still haven’t corrected this mistake, even three years later.
Her last will
The handwritten note left behind by Tanya Roberts offered a hauntingly intimate and bittersweet glimpse into her final thoughts. According to Fox News, Roberts left her entire estate, valued at over $3 million, to her longtime partner, Lance O’Brien. She signed the note using both her Hollywood name, Tanya Roberts, and her birth name, Victoria Blum.
“I have no reason to live,” Tanya wrote, and she also made it clear that none of her estate would go to her sister, Barbara Leary, or her nephew, Zack Leary.
Instead, Roberts left everything to O’Brien, though the letter suggests their relationship may not have been as loving as it seemed to the public.
”I want to leave my house … and all its belongings to my best friend Lance O’Brien – I also leave my two dogs and my Pension Plan check to Lance O’Brien,” the actress penned, as captured in images obtained by Page Six.
Perhaps the most heartbreaking part of the note comes when she acknowledged the disconnect in their relationship. ”I know you don’t love me but you have been a true friend & for that I’m [grateful],” she wrote. ”Have a good life & don’t blame this on yourself. I was always [too] sensitive to live in this world.”
Behind the face
Tanya Roberts’ final chapter may have been marked by sorrow and confusion, but it’s important to remember the light she brought into the world.
When you take a moment to look back at old photos of her — whether she’s on set, starring in her iconic roles, or even candid behind-the-scenes shots — a picture emerges of a woman who was not only stunningly beautiful but fiercely independent.
At just 15, she knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Becoming a Charlie’s Angel made her immortal in Hollywood’s eyes, but what really stood out was how she handled fame. While some may have expected her journey through stardom to come with heartbreak, bad roles, or failed marriages, Tanya took a different path.
She remained loyal to her husband, Barry Roberts, staying by his side through illness and even stepping away from her career to care for him. That kind of dedication and strength speaks volumes about the kind of woman she truly was.
Looking back at those early photos and moments reminds us of her grace, resilience, and the lasting impression she left on her fans and loved ones alike!
My MIL Turned My Bathroom Into a Spa Using All My Stuff So I Planned the Perfect Revenge — Story of the Day
I came home to find my MIL soaking in my tub, using my candlelight, my gel, and my towel. That’s when I knew — she hadn’t moved in. She’d taken over. So I smiled… and got creative.
I liked our life.
I really, really did.
There was something deeply satisfying about the way our apartment smelled like vanilla and order. The way the sun hit the kitchen counter at exactly 4 PM.
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The gentle silence after work — no one talking, no TV blaring, just me and the soothing gurgle of my espresso machine. Our space was calm. Predictable. Mine.
Then husband, Daniel walked into the laundry room with that cautious look husbands get when they know they’re about to ruin your day.
I was pulling socks from the dryer, feeling rather proud of my folding technique, when he cleared his throat.
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“Babe… We need to take in my mom for a few days.”
I paused, holding one of his socks.
“She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. But her building had a pipe burst. Whole apartment’s soaked. Just a week. Maybe less.”
A week.
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I nodded. What else could I do? I wasn’t heartless.
“I’ll survive,” I muttered.
He kissed my cheek.
“You’re the best.”
Turns out, I overestimated myself.
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By day two, our apartment was unrecognizable. And not in a “cute makeover” kind of way.
My framed photos — gone. Just gone. Replaced with my MIL’s Linda sepia-toned portraits of her.
And with her first husband (Daniel’s dad, may he rest in peace). And her friend Carol from the hospital.
And a photo of a Chihuahua I’m 90% sure had been dead since the Clinton administration.
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And the smell. It hit you every time you walked into a room.
I found reed diffusers in the bathroom, little perfume balls on my vanity, and even a small pouch of potpourri in my underwear drawer. My underwear drawer.
Still, I didn’t say anything.
Linda was a guest. Until that night.
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I walked into the bathroom and saw her standing there, rubbing something into her décolletage.
It was MY precious, outrageously expensive, only-on-special-occasions, shipped-from-New-York-like-royalty cream.
“Oh, Emily! This cream! It’s divine. Where did you get it?”
My jaw made a noise but no words followed.
“It’s like silk!” she continued, squeezing out more. “You have such amazing taste.”
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She didn’t ask. She didn’t pause. She just helped herself.
I smiled. Nodded. Said nothing.
This is still tolerable. Barely. As long as she doesn’t cross the line.
***
The following day was brutal. Emails, phone calls, two back-to-back meetings, and a passive-aggressive lunch with my manager.
I just wanted peace at home. A shower. Ten minutes of being alone in my skin. I slipped off my shoes, turned on the kettle, and… froze.
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Singing. High-pitched, cheerful, and distinctly coming from the direction of our bedroom. I followed the sound. The door to our ensuite bathroom was cracked open. A thick curl of steam escaped into the hallway.
The scent hit me instantly — sweet, lush, unmistakably familiar. MY passionfruit bath gel. I pushed the door open, and there she was.
Linda. In MY tub!
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Reclining like she was in a commercial. Surrounded by candles, MY candles. Steam rising dramatically as if the universe was mocking me. She had MY bath brush, MY scrub, and MY purple towel folded nearby like a personal butler had placed it there.
“Emily!” she squealed, completely unbothered. “I thought you were asleep already!”
I just stood there.
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“Linda… this is our private bathroom.”
She waved a hand through the steam like she was shooing a fly.
“Oh, come on. We’re both women. You’re not using it right now, and this tub is perfect. Yours is so much nicer than the guest one.”
She picked up MY rose scrub like we were about to have a spa night together.
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“I didn’t think you’d mind. We girls share everything, right?”
I turned. Walked out.
That evening, I told Daniel — calmly. He slurped his soup and shrugged.
“She probably just needed a moment to herself. You know how she is. Besides, don’t women… do that? Share stuff?”
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I stared at him. Long and hard.
“You think this is normal?”
“It’s not not normal.”
I got up, went to the drawer, and found the old key to our bedroom. I had never used it before — but seemed like the time. Or so I thought.
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Because the following morning, I realized…
Locks mean nothing when the intruder has already decided she owns the place.
***
It was supposed to be my Saturday. My one day. No emails, no meetings, no small talk.
Just me, a yoga mat, lemon water, and my favorite playlist humming soft Tibetan bells. And finally — finally — felt like I could exhale.
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Until I heard it. Loud laughter. Music. Something clinked downstairs. Then footsteps — multiple — in heels.
No. No, no, no. Not today.
I grabbed my hoodie and padded down the stairs, barefoot and still slightly zen. But the moment I turned the corner into the living room, all chakra alignment vanished.
It looked like a senior prom with a dash of bingo night.
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There were at least six people — four older women in glittery tops and way-too-bold lipstick, two silver-haired gentlemen in suspenders sipping wine, and at the center of it all…
Linda! Waltzing.
With a tray of cheese cubes and mini crackers.
And what is she wearing? MY blouse.
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The one I bought three weeks ago to wear to my best friend’s birthday — silky, deep blue, low-cut but elegant.
I hadn’t even taken the tags off until the day before when I gently steamed it and hung it in the hall closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle. I felt my soul briefly leave my body.
“Emily, darling!” Linda beamed, spinning with a giggle. “We started without you! Come, meet everyone!”
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I stood frozen. Hair a mess, and barefoot, in my yoga top. One of the older gentlemen approached me with a charming bow.
“Care for a dance, my lady?”
Before I could respond, he took my hand and spun me once, twice, and I awkwardly stumbled right into a sequin-covered bosom.
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The woman he came with gave me a look that could curdle milk.
“Linda, honey… And who is this? What’s she doing in your house?”
My house?
I pulled away gently and marched Linda into the kitchen, still gripping the lemon water bottle like a weapon.
“What is this?” I hissed.
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“A party! Just a little something to lift the spirits. You weren’t using the living room anyway!”
“In my blouse? In my house?”
She gave me a look — sweet, almost maternal.
“I told them it was my home. Just to… you know, avoid questions. They wouldn’t have come if I’d said I was staying with my son and his wife. I just wanted to feel like a hostess again.”
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“And the blouse?”
“It was just hanging there. I thought, why not?”
“Everyone out. Now.”
She tilted her head.
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“Oh Emily, don’t be dramatic. What will Daniel say? Kicking his poor mother out after she’s had such a rough time?”
Her voice turned syrupy.
“He’ll be so disappointed.”
I stared at her. And smiled.
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“Fine. They can stay.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” I said, almost amused. “Make yourselves at home.”
Her face lit up with confusion and something that looked a lot like triumph.
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But inside me, something very different lit up.
Because if Linda thought she knew how to be petty… She hadn’t seen me take the tour group of silver-haired gentlemen through Daniel’s office yet.
Let’s just say…
Some people explore museums. I let them explore our home.
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With subtle suggestions and open doors.
And Linda?
She was about to find out what it felt like when someone touched what was mine.
***
The following morning began with a familiar, delicious tension in the air. Like the final act of a play where only I had read the script. Daniel’s voice cracked through the quiet,
“Emily! Why is my cologne bottle empty?!”
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I gently stirred my coffee, not even turning around.
“The brown one?” I asked sweetly.
He appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding the bottle as it had personally betrayed him.
“This was nearly full! Now it’s bone dry. What happened?”
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I squinted thoughtfully.
“Oh. That might’ve been Thomas?”
“Thomas?”
“One of your mother’s gentlemen friends. He said the scent reminded him of his wilder days in Paris. He may have… gone a little overboard.”
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Daniel just stood there, blinking.
“He used my cologne?”
“He seemed really enthusiastic.”
Daniel turned without another word and stormed to the bedroom. I took a sip of coffee. Calm. Serene. Focused.
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Thirty seconds later, his shout echoed through the hall.
“My ties collection! One of my tie pins is bent! Who’s been in my tie drawer?!”
“Oh no,” I said, very gently. “Maybe the gentlemen got curious. You know, your collection impressed them.”
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He looked at me like I had just told him I microwaved his record player.
And then, right on cue, Linda swept into the kitchen in a satin robe, holding a grapefruit half and smiling.
“Morning, sweeties! Isn’t the air just delicious today?”
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Daniel rounded on her.
“Mom. Did your guests go through my stuff?”
“Oh, sweetheart, of course not. They’re perfectly respectful!”
“I’m going to work. I’ll deal with this tonight.”
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“Oh, I’ll walk you to the door,” I said sweetly. “You seem a bit… rattled.”
As he slipped on his coat, he turned to me slowly.
“You didn’t take the car out yesterday, right?”
I widened my eyes.
“Me? No. I thought about getting it washed, but I was too tired. I left the keys on the hallway shelf.”
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Pause.
“Oh no. Oh no. They were admiring the car yesterday. Your mother’s friends…”
Daniel walked out in silence. Two seconds later, I heard a sharp yell from the driveway. I didn’t even flinch.
“What happened, honey?” I called sweetly from the doorway.
“Did you… did you drive it?”
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“No, darling! Like I told you. Keys were on the shelf. I was upstairs. Doing yoga.”
Daniel looked past me, jaw tight. Then he turned to Linda.
“Mom?”
She looked cornered for the first time in days.
“Well… they were admiring the vehicle and… your wife let us…”
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“Emily?” Daniel cut in.
I met his eyes.
“I never left the attic floor, love. Downward Dog was very demanding.”
Silence. Daniel shook his head and rushed out.
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***
By noon, my husband was folding Linda’s cardigans like he was preparing an offering to a volcano god. He drove her to her apartment, and tipped the contractors extra to “wrap it up the next few days.”
Meanwhile, I had a small talk with Linda.
“Oh, Linda,” I called sweetly. “By the way… while you and the girls were sunbathing by the pool yesterday, I gave the gentlemen a proper tour of the house. You inspired me — it felt good to let others experience things that aren’t technically theirs.”
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She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
When Daniel returned, he dropped onto the couch and stared blankly into space, like a man who had just survived both a war and a bake sale led by his enemies.
I let him rest. Only once he was upstairs, did I allow myself a smirk.
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I could still see them in my head — those silver-haired explorers. Touching the marble paperweight on Daniel’s desk. Opening drawers they thought were just decorative. One of them even asked, “Is this vintage Armani?” while holding up a tie like it was on auction.
I said nothing. Just smiled.
Linda was lounging in her robe by the pool, sipping wine and boasting about her imaginary art collection. And me? I was planting breadcrumbs all over the house. Letting her friends wander. Letting them wonder.
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Of course, it wasn’t Thomas who used the cologne.
I sprayed half the bottle myself and left it uncapped.
No one scratched the car — well, not no one. I may have gently, artistically brushed it against the mailbox.
And the bent tie pin? Gloves on. Very respectful.
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That night, I ran the perfect bath with my passionfruit gel, lit my vanilla candle, and dropped my robe onto the warm floor tiles like a queen shedding armor.
The house was silent.
And somewhere in the distance, I imagined Linda staring at her beige apartment walls, wondering what exactly had just happened.
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Because when a woman touches your cream, your tub — it’s not about the things. It’s about the line she crossed.
And darling, once she crosses it — you don’t lecture. You don’t scream. You win.
And finally, with every breath of peace, I could hear the house itself whisper back to me.
Welcome home.
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