Omis­si­bil­ity of the defi­n­ite ar­ti­cle “the” be­fore at­tribu­tive mod­i­fiers of per­sonal names in Amer­i­can English

Nouns

In the case of nouns, both versions are acceptable: with the definite article, the proper name functions as an appositive dependent, and it is the first noun that is the head of the noun phrase (NP). In contrast, without the article, it is the proper name that is the head, while the first noun is an omissible embellishment (CGEL, p. 520). As for the possible difference in meaning, I doubt there is anything systematic one could say, and in any case, whatever it is, it would normally be slight.

Adjectives

In the case of adjectives, the acceptability of putting or withholding the definite article depends on the adjective, and sometimes even on the context. For example, it may well be absolutely unacceptable to omit the definite article in front of incomparable, as in

the incomparable Mary Pickford.

On the other hand, an adjective like young can appear both with and without the definite article. So we can have

The young John Burton Davis Jr. devoured these Sunday funnies.

and we can also have

Life as businessman for young John Hope Bryant began with a modest but life-changing $40 investment.

(Not to mention that it can appear with the indefinite article as well: starring a young John Travolta).

An adjective like beautiful usually appears with the the, but not always: e.g. the following is attested:

And beautiful Helen with a cousin, a little boy who couldn't be older than eight.

On the other hand, in some constructions the is probably obligatory. One example is when the+name appears as an appositive supplement to wife, as in

Henry married his fifth wife, the beautiful Catherine Howard.

^{From Gifford, Clive. 10 Kings and Queens Who Changed the World. United States: Kingfisher, 2009. (link)}

(All examples but the last one are from the Corpus of Contemporary American English, COCA.)

CGEL says the following (p. 520):

Adjectives occur as embellishments of proper names in two constructions: in bare NPs or in ones determined (redundantly) by the, as in the last two examples of [5ii] [the inimitable Oscar Wilde, the distraught Empress Alexandra]. The bare NP construction is restricted to a fairly small set of adjectives with emotive colouring: beautiful and ugly, young and old, and so on. The determined NP construction allows a somewhat larger range including beautiful, dazzling, incomparable, inimitable, irrepressible, unfortunate, wretched, and adjectives denoting emotional states such as distraught, furious, jealous. Such adjectives can in general modify the head of weak proper names: the ill-fated Titanic.

(A weak proper name is one that includes the definite article, like the Thames or the Bronx. (CGEL, p. 517))

Adjective + geographic name

Here, too, both bare and determined forms are attested in COCA¹ and elsewhere:

^{1which is where the examples come unless specified otherwise.}

Determined:

A letter to the editor in November 1940 describes a similar scene in Louisville, Kentucky: “This morning while sitting in our office in the Starks Building reading about the war-torn Europe, the men in one of the insurance offices sang 'God Bless America'.
^{From Kaskowitz, Sheryl. God Bless America: The Surprising History of an Iconic Song. United Kingdom: OUP USA, 2013. (link)}

I had arrived in Europe years before mass tourism and study programs abroad abounded. It was perhaps the last of the old Europe, still in its post-World War II burst of liberation and creativity.

In the end, Powell's efforts for consensus were undermined by the defection of France and Germany. Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld spoke slightingly of the old Europe, as though placing more reliance on some new Europe of formerly Communist-ruled East European states.

Bare:

Peter H. Amann taught European history as few could, filtered through the perspective of a Jew who helped his family escape war-torn Europe ahead of the Nazis as his relatives were put to their deaths.

They wore tiny army uniforms of green or sand brown, not the elegance of old Europe but the utility of the World Wars.

Greece may be falling apart, but from its quintessential red grape, St. George, comes a heady copper-edged ros redolent with iris, beetroot, robust cherry and roasted tangerine. I could have drunk it all year. Beyond that lies a story in how old Europe can regain currency, and not just in an EU rescue sort of way.