It’s been years since *Three’s Company* was on TV, but the laughs it brought us are still fresh in our minds.
With its memorable characters and hilarious mix-ups, this classic show changed the world of sitcoms forever. Now, Joyce DeWitt shares what truly made *Three’s Company* a show we’ll never forget…
From the funny adventures of three single roommates to the unforgettable acting of John Ritter and Suzanne Somers, *Three’s Company* is still a favorite on American TV. It’s hard to believe that 40 years have passed since the final episode aired on ABC, yet the show’s charm and humor continue to entertain us.
To show just how long it’s been, I recently watched the intro. The scenes at Santa Monica Pier remind me of how much has changed since the show was filmed.
Sadly, both John Ritter and Suzanne Somers have passed away, leaving us far too soon. But Joyce DeWitt, now 75, keeps the spirit of *Three’s Company* alive by sharing her stories and memories of the beloved show.
“The most dear, precious, tender – and utterly unexpected – experiences that have come from working in *Three’s Company* are the many, many adults who have told me that *Three’s Company* was a safe haven they could count on during their teen years – for some, the only safe haven,” Joyce DeWitt told *US Weekly*.
Playing Janet Wood alongside John Ritter and Suzanne Somers, Joyce DeWitt became a TV star and brought joy to millions of viewers.
She appeared in 171 episodes of *Three’s Company* from 1976 to 1984.
“It was such a gift. I mean, it was iconic. But who would have thought it?” Joyce DeWitt told *The Spec*. “All we wanted to do was make people laugh. When I think about it, the show was really like a modern version of a 16th-century comedy. It was all about crazy fun. We talked about serious issues sometimes, but that was always in the background.”
“John Ritter used to say, ‘We don’t want people to just laugh but to fall over their couch laughing,’” she added. “But in the end, it was about the deep friendship and love the characters had for each other. That’s what made people love them.”
After *Three’s Company* ended, Joyce DeWitt took a break from the spotlight for over ten years before returning to acting.
No matter what she has done or plans to do in the future, most people will always remember her for that iconic show. And according to DeWitt, there’s a simple reason for this.
“It was a ‘time out’ from the tough, stressful situations young people were dealing with in their lives,” DeWitt explains, adding:
“And, of course, they say the characters did silly, crazy things that made them laugh. But it was the love, trust, and support between the characters that made fans stay with the show for life.”
In unedited photos from the *Three’s Company* set, the close bond between the cast is clear, especially in the pictures of Joyce DeWitt and Suzanne Somers, who played the much-loved Chrissy Snow.
Both actresses gave memorable performances, portraying young women making their way in a male-dominated world. Their contributions were just as important to the show’s success as John Ritter’s, and in those early days, their smiles in the photos show a sense of friendship and teamwork.
But beneath the laughter, tensions were brewing. While Somers was praised for her role as “the dumbest blonde in America,” her push for equal pay led to growing conflicts. She demanded a 500% salary increase, from $30,000 to $150,000, which put a strain on her relationship with DeWitt. What was once a joyful set became a place of tension and disagreements.
Suzanne Somers always saw *Three’s Company* as a serious business and took her role as an actor very seriously, but she knew this approach bothered her co-stars.
Eventually, Somers was fired but still had to finish the fifth season under strange conditions. She was kept apart from the cast, filming her scenes through odd phone calls while escorted by security. The tension grew, leading to a painful break between Somers and Joyce DeWitt.
For over 30 years, they didn’t speak, a long silence that felt difficult to understand when you looked back at their early friendship on the show.
“They painted me as if I was trying to ruin the show,” Suzanne Somers said in 2020. “So, I never talked to anyone on that show ever again. Ever again.”
Some people thought that Joyce DeWitt’s rivalry played a role in Somers’ departure, but it was really the salary negotiations that caused the rift between them.
Their different situations made things more complicated — Somers was a single mother who needed financial security, while DeWitt was more focused on her acting. This added to the strain on their relationship.
“We had very different approaches to our careers,” Joyce DeWitt said about her relationship with Suzanne Somers after the show. “We had very different needs. I didn’t have a child to support on my own. I didn’t have a business mindset, so I didn’t understand someone who did.”
But in a wonderful turn of events, the two finally reunited in February 2012 on Somers’ talk show, *Breaking Through*. It was clear they had made peace.
The former co-stars shared a heartfelt hug, and their open conversation about the past showed signs of healing.
DeWitt expressed her deep admiration for Somers, saying, “You went up against ruthlessness, and it came down, but what you’ve gone on to do is immeasurable.” This touching moment highlighted the strength of their journey and the power of forgiveness. The two actresses remained friends until Somers’s sad passing in 2023.
In an interview with *US Weekly*, Joyce DeWitt spoke warmly about her late co-stars, honoring the lasting impact they made. Reflecting on Suzanne Somers, who passed away from breast cancer, DeWitt described her as “absolutely wonderful.”
She also paid tribute to John Ritter, who died in 2003 during heart surgery, calling him “a true gift.”
Looking back at the photos from *Three’s Company*, we are reminded of a different, happier time—one filled with laughter, friendship, and unforgettable memories. These images not only capture the joy the cast brought to TV screens but also highlight the lasting legacy they have left behind.
A Family Forgot Their Wealthy Grandpa at a Gas Station on His Birthday — The Next Day, His Lawyer Called Them
On his 73rd birthday, Lennox treated his family to a lavish beach trip, only to be ignored, dismissed, and forgotten — literally! They left him at a gas station on the drive home. But the family learned the cost of their callous behavior when Lennox’s lawyer called them the next day.
I turned 73 last Tuesday. Most men my age would be proud. I’d transformed my grandfather’s humble construction company into a sprawling empire that stretched across three states.
A man seated alone at a dining table | Source: Midjourney
But what good was any of it when I sat alone at my mahogany dining table, staring at a cake with no one to share it?
I had called my son Gregory, my daughter Caroline, their spouses, and all five of my grandchildren to invite them to celebrate my birthday.
All of them had answered with excuses; they were too busy to spend one evening with me.
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
I sat in my study later that night, nursing a glass of scotch, when an idea struck me.
Money. It had always been the one thing that got their attention. The one thing that made their schedules “magically open up,” as my late wife Helen used to say.
So I rented the most luxurious tour bus available and planned a weeklong trip to the coast. All expenses paid.
Seating inside a luxury tour bus | Source: Pexels
Then I sent out new invites to my family, asking them to join me for the “real birthday celebration.”
The responses were predictably enthusiastic, now that they were getting more than a slice of cake and a few hours with an old man out of it.
When the day arrived, all 15 of them showed up with piles of luggage and wide smiles.
People carrying bags | Source: Pexels
My great-granddaughter Zoe squealed when she saw the tour bus and instantly started taking selfies in front of it.
I watched them board, chattering and laughing. My family… my legacy. I smiled to myself as I climbed aboard last. Maybe this was how we’d finally connect.
The countryside rolled by in waves of gold and green while I sat in the back, watching them all.
A road cutting through the country | Source: Pexels
Gregory played cards with his boys. Caroline sipped wine with her daughter-in-law. The youngest kids bounced between seats, high on sugar and excitement.
No one sat with me. Not at any point during the many hours it took to reach our destination.
The coast was beautiful, I’ll give it that. Blue waves crashing against rocky shores, and seagulls wheeling overhead.
A road on the coast | Source: Pexels
I paid for a boat tour on our first day, but when I joined my family in the hotel lobby, Gregory frowned at me.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be going on a boat trip, Dad? Think about your health. What if you had another heart attack?”
“I—”
“Greg’s right, Dad.” Caroline cut me off. “It’s best if you stay here.”
A woman smiling at someone | Source: Pexels
And that was the pattern for the entire week.
I’d organized spa treatments, fishing excursions, surfing lessons, you name it. But I didn’t get to enjoy any of it. Or spend any time with my family.
Oh, they were careful to wrap their excuses in concern for my health, but Zoe’s obsession with social media betrayed them all.
A young teen girl staring at her cell phone | Source: Pexels
I was on my way to the beach (by myself) when I spotted Zoe in the garden just outside the hotel entrance, phone held out in front of her.
I started walking toward her but froze when I got close enough to overhear what she was saying.
“… enjoying the beach with my fam! We were even kind enough to bring my great-grandpa along, although my mom and grandma say he can’t do much because of his health issues. At least he can chill by the pool!”
A young teen girl using her cell phone | Source: Pexels
Zoe is only 12 and might be excused for spouting nonsense, but it was the narrative beneath her words that broke me; the things her mother and Caroline had told her.
I saw the truth now. I’d thought I was investing in a chance to bring my family together when I paid for this trip, but they just saw me as useless baggage they were forced to drag along.
I went down to the beach and stayed there, watching the families who actually cared about each other building sandcastles and laughing together until the stars came out.
Starry sky over a beach | Source: Pexels
The week passed quickly.
Too quickly for them, apparently. The complaints started before we even loaded the bus for the return trip.
“God, this drive is going to be brutal,” Caroline muttered, sunglasses perched on her head.
A woman staring at something | Source: Pexels
“I don’t know why Grandpa didn’t just rent a private jet,” her eldest son said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Loud enough for me to hear.
Two hours into the journey home, I felt a tightness in my chest.
A distressed man | Source: Midjourney
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
It wasn’t a heart attack — I’d had one of those before and knew the difference. This was just age and stress and heartache making themselves known.
“Can we pull over?” I asked, my voice weaker than I intended. “I need a minute.”
A man with his hands pressed together | Source: Pexels
Gregory looked up from his laptop, irritated. “We just stopped an hour ago.”
“You can’t wait 30 more minutes?” Caroline snapped. “There’s a rest area up ahead.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I just need a moment to breathe.”
Close up of a man’s face | Source: Pexels
My son-in-law, James, sighed dramatically and signaled the driver.
The bus pulled into a grimy gas station, all buzzing florescent lights and faded advertisements.
“Make it quick, Dad,” Gregory said, not looking up from his screen.
A man typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels
Gone was the concern for my health that they’d pulled out like red cards at a soccer match every time I tried to join in on the holiday excursions.
I shuffled inside the gas station restroom and splashed water on my face. The man who looked back at me in the mirror seemed suddenly smaller than I remembered.
When I walked back outside, blinking in the harsh sunlight, the parking lot was empty. The bus was gone.
A gas station | Source: Pexels
I stood there, my blazer suddenly insufficient against the wind that picked up. No phone. No wallet. Nothing but the clothes on my back and the watch on my wrist.
“You okay, sir?” A young voice broke through my shock.
A girl stood in the gas station doorway, maybe 19, her name tag reading “Marlee.”
“I think I’ve been… forgotten,” I said.
A startled-looking man | Source: Midjourney
She frowned, looking around the empty lot. “Someone just left you here?”
“My family,” I said, and the words felt like glass in my throat.
“That’s messed up,” she said simply. Then she disappeared inside, returning moments later with a foil-wrapped package. “Microwave burrito. It’s not much, but you look like you could use something.”
A burrito | Source: Pexels
I took it, surprised by the kindness of the gesture. “Thank you.”
Marlee’s shift ended two hours later. During that time, no one called, and no one came back for me.
“Look, I can’t just leave you here,” she said. “My apartment’s not far…”
So, I went home with Marlee to an apartment smaller than my bedroom.
An apartment building | Source: Pexels
She made soup from a can and loaned me thick wool socks when she noticed me rubbing my feet.
“My brother’s room is yours tonight,” she said, showing me to a small bedroom with posters of bands I didn’t recognize. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”
I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.
A man lying in a bed | Source: Pexels
Not once had Marlee asked who I was beyond my name. Not once had she questioned whether helping me would benefit her in any way.
She saw an old man in need and extended her hand. Simple as that.
When morning came, I borrowed Marlee’s cellphone and made one call — to my lawyer. It was time to teach my family a lesson.
A man making a phone call | Source: Pexels
I was home by mid-morning, and my family started arriving by noon, their faces twisted with panic and indignation.
“Dad, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” Gregory started, standing in my foyer like he owned the place.
“We went back for you!” Caroline insisted, though we both knew it was a lie.
A woman speaking to someone | Source: Pexels
I let them talk themselves out. Let them rage and plead and make promises we all knew they wouldn’t keep.
When they finally fell silent, I opened the front door.
Marlee stood on the porch, a plate of homemade cookies in her hands. I placed a gentle hand on Marlee’s shoulder as she entered, confusion evident on her face as she took in the scene.
A confused woman | Source: Pexels
“This,” I said, calm as still water, “is Marlee. She didn’t know who I was. She didn’t know what I had. But she saved me, took care of me, and reminded me what it means to be seen.”
My family stared, uncomprehending.
“I’m taking back all the businesses, cars, houses, and every other gift I’ve ever given you all,” I continued, watching the realization dawn on their faces. “Everything you thought was yours will now belong to her.”
A man pointing his finger | Source: Pexels
“You can’t be serious,” Caroline whispered, her perfectly manicured hand pressed to her throat.
“You left me at a gas station without a backward glance. And I finally saw you all clearly.”
Marlee looked between us all, stunned. “Lennox, I don’t understand—”
“You will,” I said gently. “But unlike them, you never have to worry about what it means to be family. You already know.”
An emotional man | Source: Pexels
They left in a storm of threats and tears. But I felt lighter than I had in decades. Marlee stayed, confused but kind as ever.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I told her as we sat in my study later. “The money and properties are yours, regardless. But I hope you’ll let an old man show you the ropes.”
She smiled then, and it reminded me so much of Helen that my heart squeezed in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“I think,” she said carefully, “that we could both use a friend.”
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I didn’t feel forgotten at all.
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