John Ritter (1948-2003) as Jack Tripper on Three’s Company
When I was a wee lad, my father kind of sucked. Well, really sucked. So at one point in my childhood, I decided to recruit a new father: Jack Tripper, from Three’s Company. (To my child brain, he’d be the coolest dad in the world!) So I wrote to John Ritter, asking him to be my new dad.
And he wrote back. About a thousand times. See, over the next several years, I wrote to him several times a week. And he answered each and every letter, not with a form letter and a picture, but an actual letter asking about how i was doing in school, giving me advice, etc.
In short, I sort of hijacked John Ritter as a father. We kept in touch until I went off to college. I didn’t cry when my real dad died, but John Ritter’s death tore me up.
He was, no exaggeration, the greatest person I’ve ever known, and I really do aspire someday to be like John Ritter. I remember when I turned 13, I stopped writing him, because I thought I was too old by then. He wrote me, worried, to make sure I was okay. When I was nervous about asking my first girl out, he gave me tips and lines. He even explained how to shave because my dad was too drunk to show me.
John Ritter was someone I remember fondly. I was about 4-5 at the time, and I was part of this preschool-esque program at Rustic Canyon Park in Pacific Palisades, California. He was always volunteering for this program because his son, Tyler, went to it.
I remember when John spent time hiding things around the place, especially around the playground Tyler and I would often hang out at. He hid random things like coloring books, crayons, pencils and books. But one day, he hid money. It wasn’t like he was hiding some chocolate coins or anything. It was real money. He told us to search.
The kids found dollar bills. I looked in the sandbox and found a $20 bill. When I saw it and started jumping up and down with joy, John came over to me and said, “If you keep searching, you will be successful in life – and please, don’t stop. Always remember that.” I could remember feeling so peaceful when he told me that.
What I loved about John Ritter is that he never acted like a celebrity. He would clean the toilets, clean up the messes that we made in the playroom. Rarely in my life have I ever known someone whose heart was as pure and full of kindness as his was.
