Can you remember what you had for breakfast this morning? Do you recall what pair of shoes you wore out last Friday night? Or what you were doing three years ago on a Saturday afternoon? Most of us can’t. But on the morning of September 11, 2001— a Tuesday morning not quite 17 years in America’s past, everyone can remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when the news broke that planes had crashed into the twin towers.
What if it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year? You’ve got friends who will be there for you! Right? What of those friends are just meddlesome, busybody, buttinski folk who can’t leave well enough alone and have to knit-pick at your problems to make them feel better about their own? In the east coast premiere of Reginald Rose’s Dear Friends, that recipe for disaster is exactly what’s brewing up in the Lambert’s Living Room.