I have a thing for John-Boy, which makes me a sap among peers.
While my friends gobble up the sci-fi action drama “Stranger Things” (and then have trouble sleeping at night), I am taken with the real-life stories of J-B, Mr. Walton, Mrs. Walton, Grandma, Grandpa, Mary Ellen, Jim Bob, Ben, Jason, Erin and Elizabeth.
This is not a fly-by-night fling.
I’ve admired the Depression-era mountain family since first encountering them on CBS 50 years ago, when I was a teenager, living in the Blue Ridge Mountains with my mother and my sisters.
Back then, gathering around the hit TV shows of the moment like “The Waltons,” which competed on Thursday nights with "The Flip Wilson Show” and “The Mod Squad,” was what everybody did en masse.
Not so much today with 200 streaming media platforms and various seductive, edgy (read: hip) series vying for attention.
I try to convince my friends of the Waltons’ worth. Watching a family grapple with poverty and the Great Depression against a backdrop of World War II, budding feminism, race considerations and deep family and land connections is infinitely more enriching than bingeing the next dystopian thriller.
My friends smirk and giggle nervously. "What a chump," I know they’re thinking.
Or maybe they secretly wish they could give up special effects long enough to watch a loving family unravel real-life dramas instead of the whereabouts of murderous mucilaginous monsters.
This is not drama for drama’s sake. Nor is this taking comfort in Mom and apple pie. Kids run away, people get diseases. Friends and family die in wars on this show. Mrs. Walton is a diehard Southern Baptist against Mr. Walton’s agnosticism. He and Grandpa sneak nips and refuse to be baptized. The show presents timeless values, real conflicts, well-thought-out resolutions and lasting lessons for the hungry 2022 soul. Wound through is the spectacular scenery of the timeworn Blue Ridge Mountains, spectacular writing and some of the best parenting moments on TV.
“We all grow old and die,” John-Boy’s father says to his son as he prepares to leave the mountain for New York to be a writer. “But what is important is to find someone to love and someone who will love you back. Always pay your debts, son; don't take unfair advantage of any man, and don't let any man take unfair advantage of you. Find yourself a good woman, and remember, you're my son.”
I didn’t necessarily take note of such poignancy in the ‘70s, the why’s and wherefores for 13 Emmys, two Golden Globes and a Peabody Award.
I even forgot about the Waltons for 30 to 40 years until a few years ago, when I stumbled across 1971's “The Homecoming: A Christmas Story,” which kicked off the series. Weary of politics, cynicism and COVID-19, broadened by decades of nurturing kids and a writing career, I was captured by the ageless values in the stories of Earl Hamner, whose life the series is based on. I got cable on my phone and now I listen dawn, noon and night for the familiar theme to alert me that the Waltons have gathered once more in my favor.
Does this make me a sap?
“The Sound of Music” is still my favorite movie. Sometimes when I can’t sleep — and I can’t find the Waltons — I watch “Curious George."
The cadence of the familiar voices alone is enough to make me rest easy.
"Walton's Mountain was an everlasting presence in our lives,” says John-Boy, who delivers a narrative at the beginning and end of each episode. “Whenever I could, when I was growing up there during the Depression years, I would climb its slopes. Up there I could get lost in dreams, dreams of becoming a writer, of becoming a man. I knew no writers so I had no writer to model myself after, but as a boy aspiring to manhood, I had only to follow in the footsteps of a remarkable father”
The same issues then as now echo through the mountain.
“Walton’s Mountain is as old as the earth itself,” says John-Boy. “For countless centuries it has quietly shouldered the sky above the land on which our family settled, built and flourished. Through all its seasons, through all the great and small events of our lives, the mountain was changeless, as fixed and as permanent as the glittering stars above.”
I remain yours, J-B. Still smitten after all these years.
