Joyce DeWitt Finally Admits the Truth We All Suspected – You Won’t Believe What She Said

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*.

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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.”

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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.”

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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.

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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.

My Ex-wife Demands That I Give the Money I Saved for Our Late Son to Her Stepson – My Answer Shocked Her and Her New Husband

When my ex-wife demanded the money I saved for our late son be given to her stepson, I thought grief had dulled my hearing. But as I sat across from her and her smug husband, their audacity crystal clear, I realized this wasn’t just about money — it was about defending my son’s legacy.

I sat on Peter’s bed, and the room was too quiet now. His things were everywhere. Books, medals, a half-finished sketch he’d left on the desk. Peter loved to draw when he wasn’t busy reading or figuring out some complicated problem that made my head spin.

A boy drawing | Source: Pexels

A boy drawing | Source: Pexels

“You were too smart for me, kid,” I muttered, picking up a photo frame from his nightstand. He had that crooked grin, the one he’d flash whenever he thought he was outsmarting me. He usually was.

This picture was taken just before my smart boy got into Yale. I still couldn’t believe it sometimes. But he never got to go. The drunk driver made sure of that.

A man mourning his loved one | Source: Pexels

A man mourning his loved one | Source: Pexels

I rubbed my temples and sighed. The grief hit me in waves, like it had since November. Some days, I could almost function. Other days, like today, it swallowed me whole.

The knock on the door brought me back. Susan. She’d left a voicemail earlier. “We need to talk about Peter’s fund,” she’d said. Her voice was sweet but always too practiced, too fake. I didn’t call back. But, now, here she was.

A woman on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on her phone | Source: Pexels

I opened the door. She was dressed sharp as always, but her eyes were cold.

“Can I come in?” Susan asked, stepping past me before I could answer.

I sighed and motioned toward the living room. “Make it quick.”

She sat down, making herself at home. “Look,” she said, her tone was casual like this was no big deal. “We know Peter had a college fund.”

A woman on her couch | Source: Pexels

A woman on her couch | Source: Pexels

I immediately knew where this was going. “You’re kidding, right?”

Susan leaned forward, smirking. “Think about it. The money’s just sitting there. Why not put it to good use? Ryan could really benefit.”

“That money was for Peter,” I snapped. My voice rose before I could stop it. “It’s not for your stepson.”

Susan gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “Don’t be like this. Ryan is family too.”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Family? Peter barely knew him. You barely knew Peter.”

Her face reddened, but she didn’t deny it. “Let’s meet for coffee tomorrow and discuss it. You, Jerry, and me.”

That evening, the memory of that conversation lingered as I sat back down on Peter’s bed. I looked around his room again, my heart aching. How did we get here?

A man sitting in his late son's bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his late son’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Peter had always been mine to raise. Susan left when he was 12. She didn’t want the “responsibility,” as she’d called it. “It’s better for Peter this way,” she’d said like she was doing us both a favor.

For years, it was just me and Peter. He was my world, and I was his. I’d wake up early to make his lunch, help him with homework after school, and sit in the stands cheering at his games. Susan didn’t bother. She’d send a card for his birthday, sometimes. No gifts, just a card with her name scrawled at the bottom.

A birthday card | Source: Pexels

A birthday card | Source: Pexels

That’s what made the one summer with Susan and Jerry so hard. Peter wanted to bond with them, even if I didn’t trust it. But when he came back, he was different. Quieter. One night, I finally got him to talk.

“They don’t care about me, Dad,” he’d said softly. “Jerry said I’m not his responsibility, so I ate cereal for dinner every night.”

I clenched my fists but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to make it worse. But I never sent him back.

A sad boy | Source: Pexels

A sad boy | Source: Pexels

Peter didn’t mind, or at least he never showed it. He loved school, and he loved dreaming about the future. “One day, Dad,” he’d say, “we’re going to Belgium. We’ll see the museums, the castles. And don’t forget the beer monks!”

“Beer monks?” I’d laugh. “You’re a little young for that, aren’t you?”

“It’s research,” he’d reply with a grin. “Yale’s going to love me.”

A happy teenage boy | Source: Pexels

A happy teenage boy | Source: Pexels

And they did. I remember the day the acceptance letter came. He opened it at the kitchen table, his hands shaking, and then he yelled so loud I thought the neighbors might call the cops. I’d never been prouder. Now, it was all gone.

That night, I barely slept, preparing for the conversation with Susan.

The next morning, I walked into the coffee shop, spotting them immediately. Susan was scrolling through her phone, looking bored. Jerry sat across from her, stirring his coffee so loudly it grated on my nerves. They didn’t even notice me at first.

A couple drinking coffee | Source: Freepik

A couple drinking coffee | Source: Freepik

I stood by their table. “Let’s get this over with.”

Susan looked up, her practiced smile snapping into place. “Oh, good. You’re here. Sit, sit.” She gestured like she was doing me a favor.

I slid into the chair across from them, saying nothing. I wanted them to speak first.

Jerry leaned back, his smug grin plastered across his face. “We appreciate you meeting us. We know this isn’t easy.”

A man in a cafe | Source: Pexels

A man in a cafe | Source: Pexels

I raised an eyebrow. “No, it’s not.”

Susan jumped in, her tone syrupy sweet. “We just think… it’s the right thing to do, you know? Peter’s fund — it’s not being used. And Ryan, well, he’s got so much potential.”

Jerry nodded, folding his arms. “College is expensive, man. You of all people should understand that. Why let that money sit there when it could actually help someone?”

A man talking to a serious woman | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a serious woman | Source: Midjourney

“Someone?” I repeated, my voice low. “You mean your stepson?”

Susan sighed like I was being difficult. “Ryan is part of the family. Peter would have wanted to help.”

“Don’t you dare speak for Peter,” I snapped. “He barely knew Ryan. And let’s not pretend you cared about Peter either.”

Susan stiffened, her smile faltering. “That’s not fair.”

A serious woman talking to a man in a cafe | Source: Midjourney

A serious woman talking to a man in a cafe | Source: Midjourney

“No?” I leaned forward, keeping my voice steady. “Let’s talk about fair. Fair is raising a kid, showing up for them, being there when it counts. I did that for Peter. You didn’t. You sent him to me because you were too busy with your ‘new family.’ And now you think you’re entitled to his legacy?”

Jerry’s smugness cracked for a second. He recovered quickly. “Look, it’s not about entitlement. It’s about doing the right thing.”

A smiling man in a cafe | Source: Freepik

A smiling man in a cafe | Source: Freepik

“The right thing?” I laughed bitterly. “Like the summer Peter stayed with you? Remember that? Fourteen years old, and you wouldn’t even buy him dinner. You let him eat cereal while you and Susan had steak.”

Jerry’s face reddened, but he said nothing.

“That’s not true,” Susan said quickly, her voice shaky. “You’re twisting things.”

An annoyed woman in a cafe | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman in a cafe | Source: Midjourney

“No, I’m not,” I said sharply. “Peter told me himself. He tried to connect with you two. He wanted to believe you cared. But you didn’t.”

Jerry slammed his coffee cup onto the table. “You’re being ridiculous. Do you know how hard it is to raise a kid these days?”

“I do,” I shot back. “I raised Peter without a dime from either of you. So don’t you dare lecture me.”

An annoyed man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

The coffee shop had gone quiet. People were staring, but I didn’t care. I stood, glaring at both of them. “You don’t deserve a cent of that fund. It’s not yours. It never will be.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out.

Back home, I sat in Peter’s room again. The confrontation replayed in my mind, but it didn’t make the ache in my chest any lighter.

A man in his son's room | Source: Midjourney

A man in his son’s room | Source: Midjourney

I picked up his photo from the desk — the one of us on his birthday. “They don’t get it, buddy,” I said softly. “They never did.”

I looked around the room, taking in the books, the drawings, the little pieces of him that still felt so alive here. My eyes landed on the map of Europe tacked to his wall. Belgium was circled in bright red marker.

A map of Europe | Source: Freepik

A map of Europe | Source: Freepik

“We were supposed to go,” I whispered. “You and me. The museums, the castles, the beer monks.” I chuckled softly, my voice breaking. “You really had it all planned out.”

The ache in my chest deepened, but then something shifted. A new thought, a new resolve.

I opened my laptop and logged into the 529 Plan account. As I stared at the balance, I knew what to do. That money wasn’t for Ryan. It wasn’t for anyone else. It was for Peter. For us.

A man on his laptop | Source: Freepik

A man on his laptop | Source: Freepik

“I’m doing it,” I said aloud. “Belgium. Just like we said.”

A week later, I was on a plane, Peter’s photo tucked safely in my jacket pocket. The seat beside me was empty, but it didn’t feel that way. I gripped the armrest as the plane lifted off, my heart pounding.

“Hope you’re here with me, kid,” I whispered, glancing at his picture.

A man on a plane | Source: Freepik

A man on a plane | Source: Freepik

The trip was everything we’d dreamed of. I walked through grand museums, stood in awe at towering castles, and even visited a brewery run by monks. I imagined Peter’s excitement, crooked grin, and endless questions at every stop.

On the last night, I sat by the canal, the city lights reflecting on the water. I pulled out Peter’s photo and held it up to the view.

A man sitting by the canal | Source: Pexels

A man sitting by the canal | Source: Pexels

“This is for you,” I said quietly. “We made it.”

For the first time in months, the ache in my chest felt lighter. Peter was gone, but he was with me. And this — this was our dream. I wouldn’t let anyone take it away.

A man sitting by a canal | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting by a canal | Source: Midjourney

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