For viewers who grew up with black-and-white Westerns and sunny 1960s beach movies on afternoon television, the name Lory Patrick may stir a flicker of recognition. The “Surf Party” actress, who moved with ease between TV horse operas and studio musicals, has died at 92 in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, her family confirmed to the Daily Mail. They shared that she passed “peacefully” in late January, surrounded by loved ones.
TLDR
“Surf Party” actress Lory Patrick has died at 92 in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The midcentury TV and film performer worked alongside Fred Astaire, Loretta Young, and husband Dean Jones before stepping away from Hollywood in the late 1960s.
From Game Shows to Surf Party
Patrick was born Lory Basham Jones and came into showbusiness through a path that felt very of its time. According to the Daily Mail, she first caught attention after winning a spot on the NBC game show “Split Personality,” which gave her the confidence to head west and try her luck in Hollywood.
Once in Los Angeles, she became part of the working backbone of the television industry. Patrick turned up on popular series including “Tales of Wells Fargo,” “Bonanza,” and “Wagon Train,” slipping into the lives of frontier wives, saloon girls, and small-town daughters for an episode at a time. For audiences watching at home, she was one of those familiar faces who made the TV landscape feel fully lived in.

Her most enduring big screen credit came with “Surf Party,” a 1960s beach picture that captured the era’s obsession with California waves and pop soundtracks. The film teamed Patrick with singer Bobby Vinton and dropped her into the same youthful, sun-drenched universe that made stars out of the likes of Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello. It was a world of surfboards, convertibles, and catchy theme songs, and Patrick fit the moment perfectly.
Patrick’s resume stretched beyond surf culture. She appeared in the musical comedy “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying,” and took guest roles on series such as “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis,” “The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet,” and the medical drama “Dr. Kildare.” For a young actress working in the 1960s, those credits placed her in the center of what would later become comfort TV for generations.

One of her most glamorous assignments came with “Alcoa Presents with Fred Astaire,” which paired her name on a call sheet with one of Hollywood’s most revered performers. Encyclopaedia Britannica describes Astaire as “widely considered the most influential dancer in the history of film.” For Patrick, sharing a screen with him meant stepping briefly into the orbit of true Hollywood royalty.
The Daily Mail obituary also notes that over the course of her career, Patrick worked on projects connected to Loretta Young, the Oscar-winning actress whose anthology series kept prewar glamour alive on television. For a working performer like Patrick, those short but meaningful appearances built a quiet bridge between the studio era and midcentury TV.
A Quiet Exit From Hollywood
Patrick’s filmography is not long, but it is unmistakably of its era. She moved from Westerns to workplace comedies and from family dramas to teen-oriented fare with a working actor’s pragmatism. Then, in the late 1960s, the Daily Mail notes that she retired from acting.
In that period, many actresses saw the industry shift beneath their feet. The studio system was fading, younger counterculture stars were emerging, and television was in transition. Patrick chose to step off the carousel at a time when she could have chased more roles, and that decision turned her story into something different from the usual Hollywood arc.
For those who remember her, Patrick’s on-screen presence is tied to a particular feeling: the comfort of network reruns, the glow of a console TV in the living room, and the sense that familiar guest stars would appear week after week. Her retirement left her free to live outside the spotlight, even as those performances lived on in syndication.
Unlike the marquee names who never stopped granting interviews, Patrick allowed her work to stand quietly on its own. That restraint made her one of countless performers whose faces became part of the culture without turning them into household names. Her death pulls one more thread from that fabric of midcentury television history.
Life With Disney Leading Man
Patrick’s Hollywood story did not end when she walked away from acting. In 1973, she married fellow industry veteran Dean Jones, the actor whose easy charm made him a go-to leading man for Walt Disney Productions. The couple remained together until Jones died in 2015 at 84, a rare long-running partnership in a town known for whirlwind romances and quick reversals.
For many moviegoers, Jones is forever associated with a string of Disney hits. He starred in “That Darn Cat!” and “The Love Bug,” and later appeared in “The Shaggy D.A.” His warm, slightly bemused screen persona turned animal capers and family comedies into box-office favorites for the studio.
According to the Daily Mail, Jones earned a Golden Globe nomination for his performance as Albert Dooley in the 1971 comedy “The Million Dollar Duck.” He also headlined films such as “The Ugly Dachshund” and “Monkeys, Go Home!” and rode Disney’s late 1960s wave with “Blackbeard’s Ghost,” “The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit,” and the ski-town comedy “Snowball Express.”
Jones later resurfaced in a very different genre with a small but memorable role as Director of Central Intelligence Judge Arthur Moore in the thriller “Clear and Present Danger,” opposite Harrison Ford. It was a reminder that the genial Disney favorite still had a place in more hard-edged 1990s studio fare.
For Patrick, life with Jones meant a connection to Disney’s golden age of live-action family films and to the generation of parents and children who made those movies part of their own family traditions. The couple’s marriage, stretching across more than four decades, suggests a private steadiness that ran counter to Hollywood stereotypes.
Patrick’s legacy is measured not only in screen credits but also in the family she leaves behind. As the Daily Mail reported, she is survived by children Caroline Jones (with husband Steve Haugen), Deanna Demaree (with husband Tom Demaree), and Michael Pastick (with wife Dion Pastick). She also leaves eight grandchildren, nine great-grandchildren, brothers Richard, Tom, and Paul Basham (with wife Ethel), sister Carol Vanderhoof, and an extended family who knew her far beyond the glow of the cameras.
For viewers who ever caught her in an episode of “Bonanza” or spotted her on a late-night airing of “Surf Party,” the news of Lory Patrick’s passing is an invitation to put a name to a once-familiar face. Her career was brief, but it touched some of the most beloved corners of midcentury entertainment, from Western soundstages to Disney backlots and the elegant orbit of Fred Astaire. In an industry that often measures worth by marquee status, Patrick’s story offers a quieter reminder of how many lives and careers help build the shared memories audiences carry forward.
References
- DailyMailUS: Surf Party actress Lory Patrick dies at 92 after working with Fred Astaire and Loretta Young
- Encyclopaedia Britannica: Fred Astaire
Join the Discussion
Do you remember spotting Lory Patrick or Dean Jones in the movies and shows of your youth, and how their performances fit into your memories of classic Hollywood and vintage television?