Lisa Sheridan, ‘Halt And Catch Fire’ Actress, Dead At 44
Lisa Sheridan, an actress best known for her role in Invasion and Halt and Catch Fire, has died at 44.
Sheridan’s manager, Mitch Clem, confirmed her death Wednesday evening
“We all loved Lisa very much and are devastated by the loss we all feel,” Clem told People. “She passed away Monday morning, at home, in her apartment in New Orleans. We are waiting for a coroners report on cause of death.”
It was widely reported on social media that Sheridan took her own life, but her family and her manager has denied these allegations. “The family has unequivocally confirmed that this is not a suicide. Any suggestion to the contrary is absolutely, 100% unfounded.”
Friends of the Sheridan including actress Donna D’Errico, who worked with Sheridan in the 2015 film Only God Can, have taken to social media to eulogize their friend.
“I am sitting here stunned. Lisa and I filmed a movie together 5 years ago and became very close on set and remained close friends after filming ended. It’s so rare to find kind, gentle souls like hers in this industry, this city…even this world,” D’Errico wrote on Facebook. “Truly one of the most genuinely sweet and gentle people I’ve ever come across in my life. She brought a sweetness and bright energy to any room she happened to walk into…even in her darker times.”
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She called me Big Brother, and for all intents and purposes I was. I met Lisa when she was fourteen years old, over thirty years ago. We were immediately attached at the hip, true soulmates from minute one. For the rest of the days of her life, she was a central part of mine. She was beautiful, obviously, and an immensely talented actor, and a wonderful friend, but more than anything she really did radiate this impossibly bright energy and life. Even in her dark moments. And she had plenty of those, especially over the last few years. During these later years she took to telling me, "You're the greatest big brother a girl could ever have." It was how we ended each conversation. I treasured it then, and I treasure it even more now knowing I'll never hear it again, this side of the river. So good night, my sweet little sister. No one will ever again be to me what you were, and are. I'm trying to take comfort in knowing your struggles and pain and grief are "at last, and last behind you." I love you with all my heart, yesterday, today, and forever. Sorry that I can't write more; it's just still too painful.