Lynn Hamilton, the quietly commanding actress best known to millions of Americans as the beloved Donna Harris on *Sanford and Son* and Verdie Grant on *The Waltons*, passed away last Thursday at the age of 95. Unlike so many of today’s attention-seeking celebrities, Hamilton led a life defined not by controversy or scandal, but by talent, class, and old-fashioned work ethic — traits the entertainment industry could use more of.
According to her longtime publicist, Rev. Calvin Carson, Hamilton died of natural causes in her Chicago home, surrounded by family and caregivers — a peaceful end to a rich life that spanned over five decades in American entertainment.
Born April 25, 1930, in Yazoo City, Mississippi, and raised in the heartland town of Chicago Heights, Hamilton’s journey reflects the American dream. She studied acting at the Goodman Theater and moved to New York in 1956 to pursue her passion on Broadway — a far cry from the fast-tracked, fame-hungry culture of today’s TikTok stars.
Her early credits included a Broadway debut in *Only in America* and a role in John Cassavetes’ indie classic *Shadows* — but it was in television where she carved out her legacy.
Hamilton first appeared on *Sanford and Son* as a one-off landlady. But, as she recounted in a 2009 interview, the producers were so taken by her dignity and poise that they created a recurring role just for her — Fred Sanford’s girlfriend and later fiancée, Donna Harris. It was a rare example of real talent earning real recognition in an industry often dominated by trends and superficiality.
“She was so dignified,” Redd Foxx reportedly said — and he was right. While *Sanford and Son* leaned heavily on slapstick and sass, Hamilton brought a sense of warmth, maturity, and respectability that balanced the humor. She stayed with the show from 1972 until it ended in 1977.
Simultaneously, Hamilton took on the role of Verdie on *The Waltons* — a thoughtful, family-centered show grounded in faith, community, and resilience. Her performances stood out not because they were flashy, but because they were real.
Hamilton didn’t need to court the media or stir up drama to stay relevant. Instead, she worked steadily — appearing in respected shows like *The Golden Girls*, *NYPD Blue*, and *Judging Amy*, and films like *The Jesse Owens Story* and *Leadbelly*. Her last credited role came in 2009’s *Cold Case*, marking a graceful exit from a long, impactful career.
She was married to poet and playwright Frank Jenkins from 1964 until his passing in 2014 — a 50-year union of love, faith, and creativity, something Hollywood rarely sees anymore. Together, they worked on productions like *Nobody: The Bert Williams Story*, sharing a deep commitment to honoring Black American history and culture.
In a time when fame is often cheap and fleeting, Lynn Hamilton’s story reminds us of a different kind of celebrity — one rooted in humility, family, and purpose. Her legacy, like the shows she graced, will endure as a quiet but powerful chapter in the history of American television.
Rest in peace, Lynn Hamilton. You showed us how it’s done.
