Kevyn Major Howard Dies: ‘Full Metal Jacket' Actor Was 69
Kevyn Major Howard, known for appearing as Rafterman in the 1987 Stanley Kubrick Vietnam War film Full Metal Jacket, has died at the age of 69.
'Kevyn Major Howard gave and gave and gave so much to the world and especially the men and women of our armed forces,' wrote his friend and former co-star Matthew Modine on X in a tribute. 'He became famous for his role of 'Rafterman' in Stanley Kubrick's FULL METAL JACKET. His portrayal gave him a unique entrée into the world of the US Marine Corps. This led him on a decades-long journey to be in service of our nation's bravest. Thank you for your dedication to others and to America. May all the gods bless you Kevyn. Rest in peace. #SemperFidelis'
More from Deadline
Trump's Use Of 'Full Metal Jacket' Clips Criticized By Matthew Modine, But Stanley Kubrick's Daughter Says Former POTUS "Has My Blessing"
Nicole Kidman Recalls Stanley Kubrick "Mining" Tom Cruise Marriage For 'Eyes Wide Shut'
Rosario Dawson, Rachel Brosnahan, Matthew Modine, David Dastmalchian, Tyrese Gibson Among Marquee Jurors For HollyShorts Film Festival
He attached a photo from set featuring the 'Lusthog Squad,' which included Howard alongside himself and co-stars Sal Lopez, Gary Landon Mills and Adam Baldwin. 'We're being lit by fire in this photo. We went to this source of warmth because the winter of 1985 was particularly freezing,' he added.
Howard died Friday in a Las Vegas hospital surrounded by his loved ones, TMZ reported per his family. While his cause of death is yet to be determined, he had been hospitalized for weeks due to respiratory problems, the outlet, which first broke the news, said.
Born Jan. 27, 1956 in Montreal, Quebec, Howard soon moved to Los Angeles to pursue acting. His credits on TV include Cagney & Lacey; The A-Team; MacGyver; Magnum, P.I. and The Outsiders. His last credited appearance is in Crusade in 1999, per IMDb.
On the silver screen, Howard has acted alongside Clint Eastwood in 1983's Sudden Impact, James Caan in 1988's Alien Nation and Charles Bronson in 1982's Death Wish II.
Best of Deadline
2025 Deaths Photo Gallery: Hollywood & Media Obituaries
2024 Hollywood & Media Deaths: Photo Gallery & Obituaries
Remembering Shelley Duvall: A Career In Photos
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
How Sylvia Rivera Fought to Make the Gay Liberation Movement More Inclusive
"Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commission or revenue on some items through these links." 1951–2002 Sylvia Rivera was one of the most influential activists in the Gay Liberation Movement of the 1960s and '70s. A drag queen and transgender woman, Rivera was a key figure in the Stonewall Riots of 1969 and later cofounded the Gay Liberation Front, which became a leading group in the movement. She also co-created the transgender rights organization STAR with fellow LGBTQ activist Marsha P. Johnson. Rivera died of cancer in 2002 at age 50.$7.15 at FULL NAME: Sylvia RiveraBORN: July 2, 1951DIED: February 19, 2002BIRTHPLACE: New York, New YorkASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Cancer Sylvia Rivera was born on July 2, 1951, in the Bronx borough of New York City. Rivera, who was assigned male at birth, was of Puerto Rican and Venezuelan descent. She had a troubled childhood starting with her father's abandonment shortly after her birth. As a toddler, she was orphaned when her mother died by suicide. Her grandmother stepped in to raise her, but Rivera was rejected and beaten for her effeminate behavior. At age 11, she ran away from home and became a victim of child sexual exploitation. While living on the streets, Rivera met a group of drag queens who welcomed her into their fold. It was with their support that she took the name Sylvia and began identifying as a drag queen. Later in life, she considered herself transgender, though she disliked labels. Against the backdrop of the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's Rights Movement, and the Vietnam War protests of the 1960s, Rivera's activism began to take shape. In June 1969, at age 17, she took part in the famous Stonewall Riots by allegedly throwing the second molotov cocktail in protest to a police raid of the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar in Manhattan. The six-day event was one of the major catalysts of the gay liberation movement, and to further push the agenda forward, Rivera cofounded the Gay Liberation Front the next month. In later interviews, Rivera reminisced about her special place in history. 'We were the frontliners. We didn't take no shit from nobody. We had nothing to lose,' she said. Along with the establishment of the Gay Liberation Front, Rivera teamed up with friend Marsha P. Johnson to cofound STAR—officially the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries—in 1970. The group met regularly to organize and discuss political issues affecting the trans community. Soon after, the activists founded STAR House in Manhattan's East Village to provide food, clothing, and housing for LGBTQ youth in need. Like Rivera, Johnson had also been homeless as a teenager. River was only 19 years old at the time. Later, she recalled that she and Johnson had 'decided it was time to help each other and help our other kids.' Defiant of labels, Rivera confounded many in the mainstream gay liberation movement because of her own diverse and complex background. She was poor, trans, a drag queen, a person of color, a former sex worker, and someone who also experienced drug addiction, incarceration, and homelessness. For all of these reasons, Rivera fought for not only gay and trans rights but also for racial, economic, and criminal justice issues. But the gay middle-class white men and lesbian feminists didn't seem to understand or share her passion for uplifting marginalized groups within the larger LGBTQ community. Angered by the lack of inclusion, Rivera delivered her fiery 'Ya'll Better Quiet Down' speech at the 1973 Christopher Street Liberation Day Rally in Washington Square Park. Amid boos from the crowd, she said: 'You all tell me, go and hide my tail between my legs.I will no longer put up with this shit.I have been beaten.I have had my nose broken.I have been thrown in jail.I have lost my job.I have lost my gay liberation, and you all treat me this way?What the f––'s wrong with you all?Think about that!' Eager to protect the rights of trans people, Rivera advocated for the passage of New York City's Gay Rights Bill in the 1970s, which aimed to prevent discrimination in housing, employment, and public accommodations. She was even arrested while petitioning in Times Square. Although trans people were initially included in discussions about the bill, the final version passed in 1986 only prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. 'They have a little backroom deal without inviting Miss Sylvia and some of the other trans activists to this backroom deal with these politicians. The deal was, 'You take them out, we'll pass the bill,'' Rivera later explained. Feeling betrayed by the movement she had fought so long and hard for, Rivera left the city and disappeared from activism for many years. It was around this time that she started a catering business in Tarrytown, New York. Rivera eventually returned to fight for trans issues starting in the mid-1990s amid cultural conversations around issues like gay marriage and LGBTQ people serving in the military. She joined ACT UP, or the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power, during the HIV/AIDS crisis. Although she wasn't a founding member, she participated in protests and demonstrations with the organization in New York City, with the aim of raising awareness of AIDS and fighting for better treatment of people living with the disease. She also began working as food pantry director at Metropolitan Community Church. On the 25th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, in 1994, Rivera was given a place of honor in New York City's pride parade. Following a suicide attempt in May 1995, she reflected on the on her place in the gay rights movement. 'The movement had put me on the shelf, but they took me down and dusted me off,' Rivera told The New York Times. 'Still, it was beautiful. I walked down 58th Street, and the young ones were calling from the sidewalk, 'Sylvia, Sylvia, thank you, we know what you did.' After that, I went back on the shelf. It would be wonderful if the movement took care of its own.' After years of living on the streets, in 1997, Rivera moved into Transy House, a collective in Brooklyn that provided housing to trans people. It was there that she met her partner Julia Murray. The two were close friends for a long time before they began dating in 1999. 'She's a person that has made my life different,' Rivera said of Murray to The New York Times that June. 'She's helped me—I'm not doing drugs, and I'm not drinking so much. It's just that we're happy together.' The couple stayed together until Rivera's death in 2002. On February 19, 2002, Rivera died from liver cancer at Saint Vincent's Catholic Medical Center in New York City. In honor of her activism in the gay and trans community, The Sylvia Rivera Law Project was founded just months after her death. The organization provides legal aid to trans, intersex, and gender-nonconforming individuals, especially people of color. The pioneering activist remains a pivotal figure in the history of the LGBTQ rights movement who ensured trans issues weren't overlooked. Rivera is the only transgender person included in the National Portrait Gallery at the Smithsonian. We were the frontliners. We didn't take no shit from nobody. We had nothing to lose. The movement had put me on the shelf, but they took me down and dusted me off. Hell hath no fury like a drag queen scorned. We have to do it because we can no longer stay invisible. We have to be visible. We should not be ashamed of who we are. We have to show the world that we are numerous. I'm glad I was in the Stonewall riot. I remember when someone threw a Molotov cocktail, I thought: 'My god, the revolution is here. The revolution is finally here!' Before I die, I will see our community given the respect we deserve. I'll be damned if I'm going to my grave without having the respect this community deserves. I want to go to wherever I go with that in my soul and peacefully say I've finally overcome. Fact Check: We strive for accuracy and fairness. If you see something that doesn't look right, contact us! You Might Also Like Nicole Richie's Surprising Adoption Story The Story of Gypsy Rose Blanchard and Her Mother Queen Camilla's Life in Photos
Los Angeles Times
6 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
Why I'm going to a ‘No Kings' rally against Trump, and you should too
Usually when people announce, 'Here's the thing,' I want to ask, really? Did God stop by today with cheese danish for the both of you, to tell you what the thing was? But here's the thing: We're going to need you this Saturday. What is happening in Los Angeles with the National Guard is not simply President Trump's brainstorm to move past the Musk scandal. It is the next step in his tryouts for autocracy. On Saturday, Trump celebrates his birthday in Washington with a gigantic military parade, at an estimated cost of $45 million. He is a fun-loving guy. It's 'The Music Man' meets the National Day parade in Pyongyang. So we need you to consider showing up at one of the 'No Kings' protest rallies that are also being held Saturday all across America. I will be attending one, because it's important and because it will do my hopeless heart good. It could do the same for you — lift you, remind you of who you are. You show up, we give you hope. It's a great offer: When my grandson was little, and wanted something from me, he would put both hands on his hips, present a trade, glare fiercely, and say, 'Deal?' So, deal? We the people make the best placards — my favorites from the 'Hands Off' march were 'Honk if you never drunk-texted war plans' and 'Now you've pissed off the grandmothers.' There will be the old songs of the civil rights movement and the protests that stopped the Vietnam War. It's friendliness, right action and food trucks. Heaven. Saturday is one week before the summer solstice, and this is how I am going to celebrate the last week of spring. I don't approve of summer, all those mosquitoes and crop tops. If I were God, I would have skipped over it. But spring gives us green, growing, new life. Frogs start to sing again in the rains. They've been waiting, and all of a sudden they're saying, I'm here, hydrated, and I'm going to tell you about it. Spring is new voices. Winter came with MAGA. The next season will be about new leaders and orators who will emerge in this weekend's rallies. We'll be the frogs of springing. People who say something can't be done should get out of the way of the rest of us who are trying to do it. I will celebrate the last week of spring with tens of thousands of people at the San Francisco Civic Center. Just ordinary citizens with a moral compass, we won't have a plan or strategy to save this hurting nation, but we will show up heartsick, angry, peaceful and exuberant, the young and old, babies, the Gens X, Y and Z, people of every ethnicity, spiritual path and none at all. The love we have for this beautiful, beleaguered democratic nation will be our little light to see by, and shine. Once a small group of people from my church, mostly old, were at a weekend retreat in the redwoods. At the end of an evening, it began to pour buckets of rain. They had to get back to their cabins in the darkness. They were OK until the lights of the retreat house faded; they were in the pitch dark. A narrow, precarious bridge separated them from their cabins, and they were afraid to cross it blind. But the youngest old man had a keychain with a tiny flashlight on it that gave off a thin beam of light, and so, holding on to each other's shoulders and waists, guided by the thin beam of the penlight, they crossed the bridge. I wish all the people who will meet in my city could cry together for what has been destroyed and besmirched, all the people dying since Musk got USAID dismantled. But we liberals mostly don't cry: We fret, like little children. At least, I do. When infants discover those tiny fingers of theirs, they jiggle the fingertips of one hand against the other and look exactly as if they are knitting. This is exactly what we will be doing on Saturday: knitting a peaceful resistance to dictatorship, to the politics of cruelty. Remember the old bumper sticker that said, 'Democracy is a verb'? One of the old women in the dark downpour at that retreat 40 years ago was Mary Williams. I was still drinking when we first met. She adored me despite my being a walking personality disorder. Her son was in prison, her health precarious, and she was poor, but when she was sad, she always told me, no matter how dark her life, 'Annie, I know my change is gonna come.' And it would. I lived on a tiny houseboat and had almost no money; Mary lived in the projects. She would bring me little baggies full of dimes, sealed with twist ties. I got sober, and then had a baby, without a husband or a steady income. But whenever life felt too hard, I'd see or remember Mary at the altar, sharing her hardships and pain, announcing, 'But I know my change is gonna come.' It always did: a second wind, a visit from an old friend. When my baby was 3, a book of mine took off unexpectedly, and I explained to Mary that we were doing better now. But she still brought me those baggies. She knew I didn't need the money, but that I needed the dimes. I am looking at one of those bags on my bookshelf now — I've saved it all these years — and man, do I need the dimes more than ever — faith, love, hope; good people. Our change is gonna come, maybe not next Thursday right after lunch, but it will, if we stick together, don't give up, and keep taking the next right action. Remembering this will be the gift of Saturday's protest march. So here's the thing: You who are terrified, sad, exhausted and just plain gobsmacked? Maybe show up on Saturday. Come democracy with us. Anne Lamott, an author of fiction and nonfiction, lives in Marin County. Her latest book is 'Somehow: Thoughts on Love.' X: @annelamott
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
J.D. Vance Thought It Would Be Funny To Joke About Deporting A Menswear Writer Who Made Fun Of His Outfits
JD Vance suggested on social media Monday that he is OK with the idea of deporting a menswear expert who has skewered the vice president's fashion sense. Derek Guy writes about men's fashion for various outlets and has a popular account on X where he often criticizes the fashion choices of public figures, including right-wing politicians. In March, Guy suggested that the vice president's pants are too slim, which causes them to ride up his legs when he sits. @dieworkwear / Via Although Guy keeps much of his identity private, he wrote a deeply personal X post on Sunday about his family fleeing the Vietnam War, calling the Trump administration's immigration policy 'inhumane.' He also shared that his mother brought him from Canada to the U.S. as a baby without legal documentation so they could reunite with his father. Part of his X post mentioned the following: I'm still unsure whether we technically broke an immigration law. The border between Canada and the United States was pretty porous (as it is today, for the most part). But either way, since I came here without legal documentation, I eventually fell into the category of being an undocumented immigrant. Yet, I've been in the United States since I was a baby. My identity and roots are very much based in this country, no different from anyone else. Guy's post pointed out that the vast majority of immigrants ― undocumented or not ― are not 'MS-13 members' but 'are all like your neighbors.' Twitter: @dieworkwear Related: 50 People Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Gave No EFFS X user @growing_daniel saw the opportunity for Vance to get revenge on Guy for teasing the vice president's socks and pants, and seemed to suggest he should deport the menswear expert. 'JD Vance I know you're reading this and you have the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever,' he tweeted. @growing_daniel / Via The vice president responded a short time later with a meme of Jack Nicholson from the 2003 film Anger Management, nodding vigorously in agreement. @JDVance / Via Related: "Something's Killed Me. Please, Someone Tell My Parents": 19 Terrifying Stories From People Who Lived In Haunted Houses That Are Gonna Give Me Serious Nightmares Of course, people had thoughts. Guy then responded to the vice president with some hilarious snark. 'i think i can outrun you in these clothes,' he wrote, posting photographic evidence of Vance's constricting pants and shirts. @dieworkwear / Via As of Monday afternoon, Vance hadn't responded to Guy's article originally appeared on HuffPost. Also in Internet Finds: The History We're Taught Is Wildly Sanitized, So Here 28 Disturbing Historical Events Everyone Should Be Aware Of Also in Internet Finds: People Who Never Believed In The Supernatural Are Revealing What Made Them Change Their Minds, And I'm Terrified Also in Internet Finds: "It Was Driving Everyone Bonkers With Mystery": 49 Times The Internet Came Together To Identify Weird Items That Had Everyone Completely Stumped
