For millions of viewers, Three’s Company was the sitcom that defined an era—delivering laughs, unforgettable characters, and a chemistry that seemed unbreakable. But behind the scenes, a friendship between stars Joyce DeWitt and Suzanne Somers unraveled in a way that would haunt both women for decades. Now, at 79, DeWitt is finally sharing her side of the story, offering closure to one of TV’s most enduring mysteries.

The Rise of a TV Sensation

When Three’s Company premiered in 1977, it was a breath of fresh air for television. The show’s premise—two women and one man sharing an apartment—was daring for its time, leading to hilarious misunderstandings and endless comedic situations. Joyce DeWitt played Janet Wood, the practical, steady roommate. Suzanne Somers embodied Chrissy Snow, the lovable blonde with a knack for accidental punchlines. Together with John Ritter’s Jack Tripper, the trio became one of TV’s most beloved ensembles.

Off-screen, their camaraderie was just as strong. They rehearsed together, shared laughs between takes, and celebrated the show’s meteoric rise as a team. By the end of its first season, Three’s Company was a ratings juggernaut, with its stars gracing magazine covers and talk shows. For DeWitt, those early days were “truly special,” marked by mutual admiration and a sense of family.

Fame, Fortune, and Fractures

But as the show’s popularity soared, so did the pressures. The cast’s close bond was tested by the realities of Hollywood: contracts, public appearances, and—most of all—money. Somers, propelled by her breakout role as Chrissy, believed she deserved a salary on par with TV’s top male stars. With her husband and manager Alan Hamel by her side, she asked ABC for a raise—from $30,000 to $150,000 per episode, plus a share of the show’s profits.

For DeWitt, the demand was a shock. While her own contract included a clause for equal pay increases, she feared Somers’ bold move might jeopardize the show’s future. ABC responded with a hard line, refusing to negotiate and making an example of Somers—a decision that would ripple through the cast and crew.

The Feud That Changed Everything

What followed was unprecedented in TV history. Somers wasn’t fired outright, but her role was reduced to brief phone scenes, filmed separately from her co-stars. She arrived on set with a security guard, read her lines with crew members, and left without seeing DeWitt or Ritter. The once lively, collaborative set became fractured and tense.

For DeWitt, the change was heartbreaking. She had always believed in the power of ensemble acting and trusted relationships. Watching Somers become an outsider was painful, and the easy rhythm of earlier seasons vanished. John Ritter, ever the peacekeeper, tried to maintain professionalism, but even he couldn’t bridge the growing divide.

Decades of Silence

After Somers’ final appearance in 1981, the silence between her and DeWitt was complete. No phone calls, letters, or chance meetings at industry events. Both women moved on—DeWitt to theater and quieter pursuits, Somers to books, talk shows, and business ventures. Yet, every interview and public appearance circled back to the feud. DeWitt’s answers were measured, Somers’ more open, but neither attacked the other personally.

The press, however, painted the story as a bitter grudge match, fueling speculation and keeping fans guessing. In truth, both women were shaped by an industry that often pits co-stars against one another, and by philosophies about work and loyalty that were worlds apart.

A Reunion Three Decades in the Making

Then, in 2012, something remarkable happened. Somers, hosting her own online talk show, reached out to DeWitt with an invitation. After 30 years of silence, DeWitt agreed. Their reunion, streamed live, was as genuine as it was emotional. They hugged, laughed, and spoke honestly about the pain and misunderstandings that had kept them apart.

Somers admitted her aggressive approach during the contract dispute, expressing regret for how it had affected their friendship. DeWitt shared her own perspective, explaining that the breakdown wasn’t about money, but about trust and the way the process unfolded. Both women acknowledged the loss and expressed gratitude for the chance to reconnect.

For fans, the moment was a revelation. The feud that had seemed insurmountable was resolved not with dramatic apologies, but with empathy and understanding. The wall between Janet and Chrissy was finally gone.

Lessons Learned and Legacies Left

As DeWitt entered her late seventies, she reflected more openly on the emotional toll of the feud. The experience had changed her view of Hollywood and the nature of relationships under pressure. She admitted missing Somers—not just the character, but the friend she’d shared so many laughs with.

Both women, she realized, were fighting battles outsiders couldn’t fully see: Somers for recognition and equality, DeWitt for harmony and creative collaboration. Their inability to communicate allowed the silence to become a chasm, but their eventual reconciliation lifted a burden DeWitt had carried for over 30 years.

When Somers passed away in 2023, DeWitt’s public tribute was heartfelt and unguarded. She called Somers “a true and beautiful friend,” grateful for the time they’d shared both on and off the set. Her words reminded fans that the truth behind any feud is rarely black and white, but a tapestry of ambition, misunderstanding, and human complexity.

More Than Just a Sitcom

For viewers, Three’s Company will always be remembered for its quick-witted humor and irresistible chemistry. But for those who lived it, the off-screen story was just as dramatic. DeWitt’s reflections cut through decades of speculation, showing that the real legacy isn’t the feud itself, but the forgiveness and closure that followed.

In Hollywood, where egos often overshadow empathy, the final chapter between Joyce DeWitt and Suzanne Somers stands out for its honesty and humanity. It’s a reminder that fame may fade, but forgiveness has no expiration date—and that the greatest legacy isn’t the work that made you famous, but the relationships you choose to mend.