The death of legendary television producer Steven Bochco on Sunday left Hollywood reeling — and full of stories about their experiences working with him as he created some of the medium’s most groundbreaking shows, including “Hill Street Blues,” “L.A. Law” and “NYPD Blue.” Here, some of the executives, stars, and producers who worked with him share their memories of their time with him.


Dennis Franz, star of “Hill Street Blues,” “NYPD Blue”


I met Steven Bochco at an audition for “Hill Street Blues,” when I was going in for the role of Sal Benedetto. There was the usual group of people standing around, but there was one guy in the corner with graying hair flipping a basketball in the air. He threw it to me, and I caught it. That really broke the tension.


I understood the effect that he had on people. He was truly aware his presence could be a distraction, an intimidation, but he made us feel as comfortable as we possibly could, even if it was just to give you that Steven Bochco bear hug. He would wrap his arms around you and give you a big hug and a hello, and then he’d take off.


When I was first approached about “NYPD Blue,” the scripts hadn’t been written yet. He’d called and said he’d like to do another police show in the vein of “Hill Street,” but it was going to be a more concise, introspective show with a smaller group of characters. I told him that I had done 27 cop roles and I did not want to do another one, but if I did, it would be with him and David Milch. It would have been foolish not to.


We were fully aware of how boundary-pushing it was going to be — he would go as far as the network would let him, not for any other reason than artistically he wanted it to be as realistic a portrayal as it could. On every level it was never intended to be a children’s show; it was by adults, for adults. He was tired of substitute words for curse words that people actually said. He wanted the dialogue to be as truthful as possible. But it was a Saturday afternoon special compared to some of the shows that are around now.


Over the years of “NYPD Blue,” we had a special relationship. We’d have dinner together, at least once a year. We’d meet in a small restaurant somewhere and talk about the season and the direction of the show and where the characters were going, and that meant so much to me. As a actor, you could not for ask anything more. I’m forever grateful for his belief in me over the years. I don’t take that lightly.


He’s responsible for changing the face of network television. He will forever be looked at as one of the leaders in bringing truth and honesty as deep as you can on television in search for reality. He affected the dramatic format of television forever with “Hill Street Blues, “L.A. Law,” “NYPD Blue.” It was clear that audiences wanted to be challenged a little more, and he gave them that challenge in his artistry. I don’t think anyone could be more proud to be in a Steven Bochco show as an actor because of the admiration everyone had for his work and what he represented. The industry has lost a real icon. I was looking forward to the day that we’d be back together again. I truly was. But I waited too long.


David Milch, executive producer of “Hill Street Blues”


Steven Bochco was a mentor and beloved friend. At a time of fundamental change, he made the way for so many. Mourning his passing, I’m grateful for his release and pray for his rest.


Ted Harbert, former chairman of entertainment at ABC


I have the brilliant Brandon Stoddard, former ABC Entertainment president, to thank for giving me the honor and thrill of working with Steven Bochco at ABC. In order to secure Steven’s exclusive services, we made a huge deal with him: Ten series over 10 years, with a $1.5 million penalty for any idea rejected and all accepted ideas went from the pitch straight to series. That would be a big deal today, and yet we made this deal more than 30 years ago. Brandon, [former ABC executive] Stu Bloomberg and I would go to lunch and listen to Steven’s latest idea. If we didn’t say yes, lunch was really expensive. Nevertheless, it was a dream come true to be in the same room with the master storyteller. I loved every show he did, with “Hill Street Blues” being my all-time favorite.


But convincing Steven to enjoy being in the same room with me was a different matter. In his deal, he had creative autonomy. The only real authority the network had was in business affairs and broadcast standards. But he had to talk to somebody about network stuff, so because current programming and scheduling reported to me, Brandon gave me the Bochco account.


Steven was tough. He truly wasn’t interested in my great questions about Doogie Howser’s surgical credentials. If you wanted to talk creative with him, you had to have your act together. Day by day, inch by inch, with the wonderful help of his company president (and Steven’s future wife), Dayna Kalins, Steven and I developed a relationship I will always treasure. The ABC deal yielded big successes like “Doogie Howser” and gutsy failures like “Cop Rock.” We were pretty skeptical about the prospects for a show revolving around singing cops, but Steven wanted it so badly.


The real test of our relationship started in 1992 when Steven came in with “NYPD Blue.” With Bob Iger leading the charge at ABC, we began what became a nearly two-year campaign to pull this show up Pork Chop Hill and get it on the air. Steven was incredible. The fight to persuade advertisers and ABC’s affiliate stations to accept a show that pushed content boundaries called for passion, patience, obstinance, and charm, and Steven had it all.


The negotiation in an airport hotel conference room in Dallas over the 17 colorful words Steven wanted to use in the show was without question one of the most amazing meetings in TV history. Hearing Steven tell ABC’s head of broadcast standards and practices “I’ve got no show if I can’t say ‘scumbag’ ” still warms my heart. Steven got most of the words on his list, but standards and practices held the line at “douchebags.”


By May of 1993, I showed ABC’s affiliates and advertisers an eight-minute clip of “NYPD Blue” at the upfronts. Afterwards, I was approached by a senior member of the ABC affiliate board. “Young man, I believe you and Mr. Bochco have just ruined television,” the station executive told me. I replied, “I believe Steven Bochco has just saved television.” “NYPD Blue” went on to a proud, Emmy-winning, 12-season run.


Stevie B., you will always be the best.


Daniel J. Travanti, star of “Hill Street Blues”


Steven Bochco is a mensch. Before I ever looked up the meaning of that word, I thought of him as a fully developed human being, a phrase I use to describe eminently satisfying people. That’s what a mensch is, I found out. He was, is, all there. He will never be gone, out of me.


I owe him too much. He was gentle, stern when he needed to be, confident enough of his own abilities and shrewd enough to be a discerning and generous hunter of talent: writing talent for his team of creators; producers, who helped him guide his complex projects; technicians, directors, giving women and others who tended to be overlooked; and an unabashed appreciator of actors. He complimented us, he laughed out loud, hugged us.


I saw him treat his son and daughter the same way. He enjoyed being the father, the mentor, the teacher, the pleased guardian of his flock. And the hot disciplinarian when we failed him. His written words, those he wrote himself and the dizzyingly inventive scenes and clever—and original—dialogue his writers and he showered upon us, often made me giddy. The impossible pleasure! A rabbi? A maven?


I have many dimmed memories of my five years with him, but I also hold vivid moments, gestures, dialogues with him that will never diminish. And celebrations for our success.


He gave me a career. He and two others in particular.


I love you, Steven. Ciao.


Warren Littlefield, executive producer of “The Handmaid’s Tale” and “Fargo”


I had the honor of first working with Steven during the development of “Hill Street Blues” in 1980, when I was a manager of comedy development at NBC. Steven was a funny guy — extremely bright, acerbic, a wordsmith with a dry, wry sense of humor. All conversations tended to be entertaining, but you had to be on your toes. “Hill Street” certainly wasn’t a comedy — it was a groundbreaking drama — but Steven infused it with his sense of humor and that only made it more watchable.


On a network known for “CHiPS,” Steven’s creation (along with Michael Kozoll) was revolutionary. Steven challenged all of the drama conventions and it scared the hell out of me but he knew exactly what he was doing. Periodically Steven would send me written documents that outlined the complex stories that he would be telling. He was the professor and I was the student. Each document began with “Warren, Warren, Warren…” And then he would proceed to tell the complex and flawed character stories mixed in with intricate crime stories that lasted anywhere from one to six episodes. Those documents are a master’s class in television drama.


While season one had a slow start on Saturday nights, the Emmys embraced the series and upon its move to Thursdays at 10pm, an institution for quality drama was born. Steven had changed NBC’s DNA. As a network, everything that followed would be measured against that.


“L.A. Law” would more than continue the Thursday night at 10 promise to the audience to deliver the best drama on television. Once again, Steven perfected how to hold up a mirror to the world in which we were living. With the tremendous critical acclaim and an instant embrace by the audience, he became one of the most coveted creators and executive producers in the history of television. Did it change him? I don’t think so.


It’s hard for me to imagine that I could have found success as a producer without the education I received working with Steven. He was a warrior for what he thought was best for his shows. I think he actually enjoyed going toe to toe with broadcast standards as he continued to push the boundaries of what would be allowed on network television. By all rights those executives had all the power and control, but why did Steven time and time again out maneuver them? Well, he was just that good. That passionate. That persistent. Bet on Steven.


Over the last couple of years Steven and I have had offices in the same building, and from my desk I could see Steven going to and from his office each day. I’ve often said out loud to no one “thank you Steven.” And I suspect that is what everyone in television is saying right now.


David E. Kelley, executive producer of “L.A. Law”


A devastating loss. For television. For those who loved him and were loved by him. My beacon, my friend. The ground feels different now.


Jimmy Smits, star of “L.A. Law” and “NYPD Blue”


When I heard about his death, I was thinking about what a blessing it was have connected with him artistically and have him as a mentor. There are so many blessings that I have in my life because of him. “Get over yourself,” he’d tell me. “Don’t be a putz, Smits!” He wanted me to go see dailies, not to do the whole theater thing. He’d tell me to go in there — and learn.


I met him when I came out to L.A. after a not-so-great audition in New York with some NBC network executives to have another go at it, and I got an audition with Steven. I just remember walking into his office to find this happy-go-lucky guy. His office will filled with all of this sports memorabilia, and he was swinging a baseball bat when I walked in.


He was able to put people at ease and bring out the best in them.Beyond the millions of people that his work has touched, there are thousands of people in the industry that he was a mentor to. It wasn’t just about being transactional; he really offered creative advice to people. He was understanding but he was able to kick people in the pants when they needed it.


He really set the tone for what an ensemble show could be, what a cop show could be, what a legal show could be. I have often thought that what he did with “Blue” was way beyond — if you look at streaming and cable, he did that on network television. If someone tried to pitch a show like that right now, it wouldn’t get on the air. But he was able to push the envelope to let all these other things exist — to know there was an appetite for that, that you could deal with adult themes in that particular hour. He broadened the horizons of television in so many ways. It wasn’t easy, because the networks, they were going kicking and screaming.


I went to his office early on in the run of “L.A. Law,” and he showed me the video of the Steven Bochco logo. That was his dad, Rudolph, who was a violinist. He didn’t have any footage of his dad playing, so they went back and forth in editing to make it look like his dad was playing the violin — and he was so happy to give his dad that kind of artistic props. Every time I see that logo, I think about that moment. I felt very privileged to be part of his extended family.


When I made career decisions, he was really supportive and the fact that he came back to me, as he did with a number of other actors that he used again, I did feel like I was part of his family. He was able to let the bird fly away from the nest and then come back. I was very grateful to him; he was always so positive and supportive. That was his way. I’ve worked with a lot of different producers, and I can’t say the same.