Thirteen years ago, which is more years ago than I would have thought, an actor named Cory Monteith died; at the time, he was starring as a talented high school student named “Finn” on a TV show called Glee, which was back when we all watched a thing called “TV.”

Because the actor playing Finn had died, the creators of the show determined that the character Finn would have to die as well. For a while, they mused about making him die in exactly the same way that Monteith had, of a drug overdose, which would have been, for Finn, more than a little out of character.

At the time, I wrote, “Why does the death of a TV actor necessarily mean the death of his character? Could Finn not receive a terrific offer over the summer to sing and dance on a variety show in the Czech Republic?”

This future for the talented and strait-laced Finn would have been more likely than an early death.

There were plenty of other examples that I was able to give of TV characters who died when the actors who played them died; I didn’t really understand why such a thing was generally necessary.

“When Freddie Prinze died,” I noted then, “his Chico and the Man character was away for a while (‘I can’t wait till Chico gets back,’ was uttered at least once), and then after a while we learned that his character had died, but not how. We lost Freddie Prinze; I am not sure why I could not have been allowed to believe that Chico, the character, was still alive somewhere, which would have been more in keeping with the show’s message of hope and redemption. Even today, more than 35 years later, I think that would still make me feel better. Why did Chico have to die too?”

And even today, more than 45 years later, I think it would make me feel better to think that Chico had escaped Freddie’s sad fate.

So here is what I am worrying about now. One of my favorite TV shows of all time was King of the Hill, which ran from 1997 to 2010 on Fox, which drolly and dryly told the droll and dry story of Hank Hill, a propane and propane accessories salesman in Arlen, Texas, who has a wife, Peggy, and a son, Bobby. (Only one child, because of his “narrow urethra.”) During the show’s run, my absolutely favorite character was Hank’s niece, Luanne Platter, a lovely young woman who overcomes a host of disadvantages with a kind of hilarious pluck. Luanne, played by Brittany Murphy, survives the death of her disastrous boyfriend Buckley (in the Mega Lo Mart explosion), and eventually marries Lucky Kleinschmidt, played by Tom Petty, and gives birth to a daughter, Gracie.

You see where this is going? Murphy and Petty have both died since the show’s original run, Murphy more tragically than Petty (any death is sad, but Petty was sixty-six; Murphy was just thirty-two). Luanne and Lucky were not mentioned at all during the first season of the show’s recent revival on Hulu; but what will happen when the show returns for another season?

Fans are worried!

Here is what should happen.

One day, the phone will ring, Peggy will answer, and she’ll say, “Luanne, how nice to hear from you! How is Jacksonville treating you?” And then some comedy about Jacksonville. Peggy asks about Lucky; some reference follows to whatever hilarious and fulfilling endeavor is currently making Luanne and Lucky so happy. We of course would never hear Luanne’s side of the conversation, just Peggy’s.

Luanne and Lucky have to go away. But they don’t have to die.

Save Luanne and Lucky!

^^^

This column is by Steven S. Drachman, a writer.