As a product of the 80′s, I grew up watching movies that were written and directed by the talented John Hughes.

Name doesn’t ring a bell? Remember that movie about the geeky kid who just wants Molly Ringwald’s panties, and rallies all the other geekburgers into the bathroom to show off her glorified underwear? The story about the girl whose family forgets her birthday but in the end she finally gets her birthday kiss by the hottie Jake Ryan?

Remember the movie about the genius kid who fools the whole school into thinking he’s terrible ill and on his death bed? All the while he’s out having a blast with his buddies Sloane and Cameron, dancing in parades and causing a ruckas.

You might remember another piece of his, where a “brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal” were brought together on a Saturday for detention, under the watchful eye of  their stern principal Richard Vernon. A group of kids who knew little about each other, but by the end of the day their lives were intertwined together forever?

John Hughes was the man behind the movies we grew up with. From Sixteen Candles to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, from the Breakfast Club to Weird Science, from Some Kind of Wonderful, to the Home Alone and Beethoven series, John Hughes brought us stories about the trials and tribulations of growing up and figuring out who we were and who we wanted to be. These were the stories that made us look at our peers differently with acceptance and understanding. These were the stories that we remember now, as adults, decades after seeing them first as prepubescent teenagers.

This remarkable director passed away today, at the age of 59. He suffered a heart attack while on a walk in his Manhattan neighborhood. Hughes is survived by his wife, Nancy, his two sons James and John, along with his four grandchildren.