FLASHBACK: Remembering Jim Henson, 25 Years After His Death

Growing up in the 1980s, Jim Henson shaped my childhood. By 1990 I’d logged hundreds of hours watching the Muppets. I could quote Labyrinth by heart. No holiday season was complete until our family had played that John Denver and the Muppets record at least 30 times. So, as you can imagine, the day I heard Henson died, it felt like I’d lost a friend. Looking back, Henson’s death was one of the first losses that ever affected me. Twenty-five years ago I had just turned 13, and I can still tell you which stretch of road my mother and I were riding along when we heard the news on the radio. FLASHBACK: Fred Savage & Jenny Lewis in the Cult Classic, 'The Wizard,' AKA 1989's Biggest Nintendo Ad Many of my friends remember that day as well, as do their parents (and perhaps some grandparents). While there’s no doubt Henson was a master craftsman and puppeteer, his true artistry lied in the way he channeled his soul into his work. Before the Muppets came along, onscreen puppets were, well, just puppets. Henson gave his creations such vivid personalities, wit and expressions it was easy to believe each had a beating heart beneath the felt. Though he didn’t become a household name until Sesame Street, Henson’s work dates back to the 1950s. As an adult, I discovered his experimental films, which include mesmerizing oddities like 1969’s teleplay The Cube and 1965’s Time Piece, a rhythmic short that earned him his first Academy Award nomination.