All language subtitles for The.Waltons.S06E20.The.Family.Tree.WEBRip.x264-ION10

Verdie asked me to help her
trace her family ancestry.

-You gonna do it?
-Why'd she want me to help her?

There are doors open to you,
Jason, that're closed to Verdie.

Verdie, the whole world outside
isn't like it is here.

People won't be so kind.

Are you forbidding me to go?

I can't forbid you anything.

But if I could,

I'd forbid you this.

WOMAN: Go. Now.

We're not going anywhere until
we locate Miss Estelle Unwin.

You have located her, and you
have heard her ask you to leave!

Verdie, don't.

Please, Jason. Let's go home.

JOHN-BOY: As the 1930s became
the war years of the 1940s,

an awakening came
to our small community.

An awareness of the world

beyond our
Blue Ridge Mountains.

There began a reaching out,
to touch people and places

and knowledge we had
never considered before.

-What you doing?
-Writing a letter.

ERIN: Are you writing a soldier?

ELIZABETH: Well,
why shouldn't I?

Arnold Kevin is lonesome
at Camp Lee. He needs a friend.

A 12-year-old friend?

He doesn't have
to know about that.

What are you saying to him?

None of your business.

Oh, come on, Elizabeth,
I won't tell.

-Promise?
-Promise.

Okay. How does this sound?
"My Dearest Arnold..."

Too friendly?

Definitely too friendly.

Okay then.

"Dear Arnold, I saw your ad
in the Rockfish paper,

"where you said
you wanted a pen pal.

"I am a tall, beautiful
18-year-old girl

"with gorgeous wavy hair,
and eyes like limpid pools."

Wait a minute, Elizabeth.
You can't say that.

Okay, I'll take out
"eyes like limpid pools."

No, I mean you
can't tell him you're 18.

-It just wouldn't be fair.
-Well, he'll like it that way.

He wouldn't like
it if I said, "Dear Arnold,

"I'm a 12-year-old,
freckled-faced, little kid."

Well, Elizabeth,
you write what you want.

But I think it's kind of silly.

Erin.

Can I use your perfume
to put on the letter?

No!

Alright. I have some
old cologne in the top drawer.

You can use that if you want.

Hey, Verdie. Do you want a lift?

If it doesn't
take you out of your way.

I'm going down to the church.

I'm going right past there.

Oh, good.

They're very pretty.

VERDIE: My daddy loved them.

JASON: You miss
him a lot, don't you?

-I hope they take hold.
-They will.

My grandpa always
says he wants to be buried

where the flowers of Walton's
Mountain will cover him.

A lot of people born here have
a very special feeling

about this place, don't they?

My daddy wasn't
born here, nor was I.

Where'd you come from?

Brightwood.
When I was about three.

Was your daddy born there?

I don't know where he was born.
He'd never talk about the past.

I don't even really know what
his mama and papa were like.

I don't know any of that.

When he was alive, I never used
to think about it much.

There was him, and there
was me and my family,

and I remember my mama.

And that was enough.

But now that he's gone...

You got all kinds
of questions,

and no one to go to
for the answers.

It feels strange to be so alone.

I know I have a daughter
and my sister,

but they're both so far away.

You've got Harley
and Josh and Jodie.

But I don't have myself.

I know it must sound stupid,

but suddenly I feel
so unsure about who I am.

Doesn't sound stupid
at all to me.

I know if I didn't have my
daddy, my grandma, my grandpa

and know all about
our family history, I'd...

I'd feel real strange.
Kind of like I was adrift.

That's exactly how I feel.

You know, when someone
lets go of a balloon,

and it drifts
upwards towards the sky

with the string dangling?

That's how I feel now.

I need something
to hold me steady again.

I need to know
where I came from.

Isn't there some way you can
trace your family history?

I don't know.

My daddy always said nothing

in the past
was worth remembering.

All I've got left of his
is one small wooden box,

filled with the things
that he cherished.

VERDIE: I don't suppose you'd
like to play detective with me?

IKE: Hey, Elizabeth.
What can I do for you?

I'd like to mail a letter.

Okay, you're just in time 'cause
the mail is just going out.

How long will it take this
to get where it's going?

That depends on
where it's going.

Let's see. Camp Lee, Virginia.

Well, it should get there,
like, the day after tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow, if you're lucky.

Mmm. Smells pretty.

You sending
perfumey letters to soldiers?

Who, me? No. That's Erin's.

She's got a boyfriend
who's a soldier.

Again?

I guess so.

Arnold Kevin.
Don't think I ever heard of him.

Ike, can we just
mail the letter? Please?

Oh, of course.
We of the Postal Service,

through snow and sleet
and dark of night,

nothing can stop our couriers
from their appointed rounds.

-JASON: Grandpa?
-Hmm?

You knew Verdie's folks
when they moved here?

Verdie's folks? Well, sure I
did. I knew both her pa and ma.

Her ma was a pretty thing.

She died of TB
when Verdie was just little.

Verdie asked me to help her
trace her family ancestry.

Are you going to do it?

I can't. I have
a big recital coming up.

Verdie hasn't been the same
since her daddy died.

You know, he was
the only connection she had

with what she was
and where she'd grown up.

Most people can't bear that.
And it was real hard on Verdie.

But why would she
want me to help her?

There are doors open to you,
Jason, that're closed to Verdie.

You know that.

Evening.

Evening.

-Where's Josh?
-In his room.

I'm starving. What's for supper?

Supper?

Yes, ma'am, supper.

The meal I'm used
to having after I get home

from a hard day's work.

You remember?

Oh, Harley, I'm sorry, I...

I didn't realize it was getting
so late. Nothing's ready.

It'll only take me a minute.

-You alright?
-I'm fine.

I was just going through
that box of my daddy's things.

Verdie, I know you miss Ned,

and it's only fitting that you
should. But life's got to go on,

and you sitting here, moping
over a boxful of bits and pieces

isn't going to do
you or me any good.

Maybe it will.

Harley.

I've decided something.

I'm going to find out
all I can about my family.

I mean,

who they are, where they came
from, who I am.

And where are
you going to start?

Right here...with this.

Looks like some kind of gewgaw,
probably belonged to your mama.

No. It's too heavy.
A woman wouldn't wear it.

Just plain metal,
couldn't be worth anything.

Then why did my daddy
keep it all these years

if it didn't have
some special meaning?

I don't know.

And anyway, I don't see
how this could have anything

to do with your family.

Maybe it doesn't, but
I'll just have to find that out.

How?

Well, I know my daddy
came from Brightwood.

That's where I'll begin.

Maybe I'll find some
folks there who remember him.

-I'm against it.
-Harley.

Verdie, all your life,
you can remember living here.

Mostly, you've known
only good people.

The whole world outside
isn't like it is here.

People won't be so kind,
won't be so helpful.

Are you forbidding me to go?

You're a grown woman, Verdie.
I can't forbid you anything.

But if I could,

I'd forbid you this.

VERDIE: Jason.

Verdie.

Harley thinks
I'm acting foolish,

and I probably
shouldn't be doing this,

but I think I found something.

What is it?

I've found a clue
among my daddy's things.

-I thought...
-How's 7:30 in the morning?

I'll be ready.

Thank you.

VERDIE: Reckon we should start

at the Brightwood County
Records Office first.

JASON: That's exactly
where we're headed.

Jason, look.

I found this
among my daddy's things.

It's beautiful.

Looks like it was meant
to be worn around the neck.

-Was it your mama's?
-I don't think so.

It's very unusual.

I think it's important.

Like a clue
to what I'm looking for.

WOMAN: No...

Uh...

No, what you have there
is all we've got for 1898.

-Alright, thank you.
-Young man.

I think you're
just wasting your time.

Those people never bothered

about registering
birth information.

I mean, most of them
can't even read or write.

Maybe some of them
weren't able to read or write,

but Mrs. Foster can.

So we're just gonna
keep right on looking.

No offense intended,
you understand?

"Verdie, daughter of Edward
and Ethel Harris,

"born at 3:30 a.m.
on October 11, 1898,

"at 12 Elm Place,
Brightwood, Virginia."

Come on!

You looking at the want ads?

Are you looking for a job,
Elizabeth?

These are not the want ads.

Arnold Kevin. Who's that?

You sure do ask
a lot of questions!

Okay, forget it.

Arnold Kevin
is a friend of mine.

You got a boyfriend?

He's a boy and he's a friend.

You know something, Elizabeth?

You ought to send
him your picture.

"Dear Arnold, thought you might
like to know what I look like,

"so I'm sending
a picture of myself.

"This picture was taken out
by the back of our barn

"by Grandfather."

Hello?

Hello?

Can I help you folks?

Well, maybe. I mean, I hope so.

I know you.

You do?

Upstairs...

You lived upstairs.

Ethel! Ethel Harris!

-No, you can't be.
-I'm her daughter.

-I'm Verdie...
-Verdie!

Oh, Verdie! Little Verdie
who lived upstairs.

Lord, I can't believe it.
I just can't believe it!

Wait till I tell... Frank!
Frank!

It's hard to believe.
That was almost 40 years ago.

Seems like yesterday.

You was a handsome devil then,
weren't you?

I still am!

-Some more?
-No, thank you, ma'am.

No, no, thank you.

I wish I could tell you more,
Verdie, but like I said,

now, your mama and me,
we liked to talk.

But your daddy,
he was different.

He stayed pretty much
to himself.

JASON: You reckon he was shy
about talking to the womenfolk?

Not just women.

'Course, when we went fishing
down by the river,

he'd talk about this and that.
Baseball and work.

Hardly ever said much
about anything else.

Except...

Once. One time, a Saturday,

we was walking home,

and he said,
if I remember rightly,

that when he was real little,
both his folks died

in some kind of an epidemic.

And after that, he said he was

shuttled around to a lot
of different bad places.

Mr. Nelson, can you remember
anything else?

That's all he said,
as far as I can recollect,

but it was so long ago.

What's this?

I was hoping you would know.
It belonged to my father.

Never seen it before.

MRS. NELSON: Neither have I.

Heavy, ain't it?

It sure is.

Well, I think it's about
time for us to be going.

Thank you.

MRS. NELSON: You're welcome,
honey.

Mrs. Nelson, thank you
for your hospitality.

I just remembered
something else.

Another time we was talking,

Ned and me, and he said
after you was born, Verdie,

he got to feeling real sad
about his folks.

So he got on the train
to Scottsville

and he went
to visit their grave.

He wanted to tell them about
you, that's what he said.

Scottsville, that's right.
I remember it real clear now.

Honey, if you get
around this way again,

come on back and visit with us.

I will.

Thank you, Mr. Nelson.

It's alright, darling.

-Was nice to meet both of you.
-Nice to meet you, son.

-Thanks again.
-You're welcome. Goodbye.

-Bye-bye.
-Bye-bye.

(DOOR CLOSING)

It really is like being a
detective, isn't it, Verdie?

You know,

I think we're gonna solve
this mystery of your family.

Oh, I hope so, Jason.
I really hope so.

Will you put this
in the mail for me?

Another one?

I guess Erin likes
to write letters.

Mmm.

She must be writing to a real
Romeo over there at Camp Lee.

Guess so.

What's that on your hand?

Who's A.K.?

It's personal.

JASON: We're going to try
Scottsville tomorrow, Daddy.

JOHN: Why there, Son?

JASON: We found out Verdie's
grandma and grandpa lived there.

And they were buried there.

So we thought we'd try the Hall
of Records and see what else

we could find out.

Afraid you're not gonna find
much help there.

Why not?

I worked down
in Scottsville one summer.

The summer of the flood in fact.
Most of that town was ruined.

In fact, I worked
in the City Hall there.

The outside was standing,
but the inside was all ruined,

washed away, and those
records were destroyed.

I remember that.

Those records
aren't gonna be any help,

especially before 1915, anyway.

Well, I reckon
what we're gonna have to do

is just go through
the churchyards,

looking for headstones
or markers,

and hope the church
has some records.

GRANDPA: That would be
the best way, son.

Driving home tonight
in the car with Verdie,

I started going over
some dates in my mind.

Years that people were born.

I realized something
that really shook me.

Verdie's grandfather was born
before the Civil War.

War between the States, son.

Sorry, Grandpa.

That means he must
have been a slave.

Well, now,
that's hard to believe.

Where you gonna wait for Jason?

He'll be along in a minute.

Verdie, I wish
you'd quit doing this.

Harley, I can't.

Can't? Why not?

You already found the place
you were born, that's enough.

No, it's not.
I need to find more.

Like what?

I need a place I can touch
on a map and call home.

The further you go back,
the deeper you dig,

the uglier you're going
to find things.

I'm not afraid to see them.
I want to see them.

If I can know the pain
my people went through,

maybe I can understand
what happened to them.

Please leave it alone.
Don't go stirring it all up.

Oh, I'll see misery, I know
that. But it doesn't matter.

All the threads
that made up those lives

tangle with the threads
of my own.

Whether I like it or not.

(CAR DRIVES UP)

(CAR HORN HONKS)

Verdie.

Look.

JASON: "Albert Harris,
born March 15, 1831."

Jason. I think...

"Etta Harris,
beloved wife of Albert."

I found my grandparents.

These are the only
records we have.

Young man, do you mind
putting that banner over there?

-Sure.
-Thank you.

There, there.

Now, when you finish with them,
put them back over there.

-Thank you.
-Sir?

Have you ever seen
anything like this before?

Couple of times.

Where?

Hmm. You don't see these
around much anymore.

But I seen a couple.

-I seen a couple.
-Who did they belong to?

Slaves.

Men that had been slaves.

Not born slaves, mind you.

But the ones
brought here from Africa.

Some of them had
ornaments like that.

These are the records for 1887.

Oh...

"Etta Harris, died the 23rd
day of August, 1887.

"Buried at this church,
the 25th day of August.

"A good wife
and God-fearing woman."

"Albert Harris.
Died at 18 Maxwell Road,

"the 28th day of August, 1887.

"Born a slave.
Unwin. Died a free man."

If this came from Africa,

it couldn't have
belonged to my grandfather.

"Born a slave."
That means born here.

Unwin.

"Slave, Unwin."

What do you suppose
that means, Jason?

It must be the name
of the family who owned him.

Pardon me.

Do you know of a family
around here called Unwin?

Old Fluvanna County family.

Own a big place
over by the river.

How far?

Five, six miles
down the main road.

-Thank you.
-Thank you, thank you very much.

Verdie,

I feel embarrassed.

Why?

I know it's dumb,
but it's just the way I feel.

I've known you
my whole life, and I...

It never even occurred to me...

That if this were a different
time, you'd be able to buy me

and sell me?

It had never occurred
to me before, either.

It's terrible to think about it,

and there's no easy way
to talk about it.

WOMAN: Sam, I want you
to replant those azaleas.

-Yes, ma'am.
-And I want them put outside.

One on the right side
of the gate, the red one,

and on the left,
the white one.

Yes, ma'am.

Ma'am?

What are you doing here?

Ma'am, I'm Jason Walton.
This is Mrs. Verdie Foster.

In that case,
I would appreciate it

if you and Verdie
were to leave my property.

If we could
just have a moment...

WOMAN: You are trying
my patience, sir.

Now, go!

We're not going anywhere until
we locate Miss Estelle Unwin.

You have located her, and you
have heard her ask you to leave!

Please, ma'am.

I'm looking for information
about my family,

and I've been told
that you may know.

My grandfather was called
Albert. Albert Harris.

He was a slave.

He worked for people called
Unwin, your family.

-My family owned many slaves.
-We heard that.

We were hoping
to look at the records

if there are any, we were told
slave records were kept.

Certainly they were.

We thought if we could
examine the records,

we might be able to find out
how far back my people go.

There's nothing here that can do
you the slightest bit of good.

I don't think you're being
very fair, Miss Unwin.

"Fair"? When I was a child,

we were engaged in a war
that ruined my family

because someone else came along

and was proclaiming
the rights of other people.

The result was the loss
of everything for us,

everything
we loved and cherished.

Everything that we were.

And what has she gained?

Nothing, so far
as I can determine.

Now, I suggest you leave.

Verdie, don't.

Please, Jason. Let's go home.

Harley was right.

I never should
have started this.

Elizabeth, there's no sense
you hanging around here.

The mail doesn't come in
for another hour.

I could always call you
if you get something.

I'll wait.

Okay.

Well, hello there, soldier.
Can I do something for you?

I'm looking
for the Walton place.

The postmaster at Rockfish said
they lived close to your store.

He's right, they live
right down the road.

-You a friend of the family?
-No.

I have a letter
from Elizabeth Walton.

I came up to see her.

-Camp Lee.
-Mmm.

Well, uh, there was a member
of the Walton family

here just
a few minutes ago. I...

I wonder where she went.

Well, uh, I tell you what.

You go out,
go down to the right.

When you past the pond,

you can't miss the house.
It's right there.

Thank you. Much obliged.

-Okay, bye now.
-Bye-bye.

Erin, you got to help me!
He's coming!

-Who's coming?
-Arnold Kevin!

Oh, you're kidding.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Erin, what'll I do?

Go answer the door.

Elizabeth, answer the door.

Go.

(KNOCKING)

ARNOLD: Hello.

My name is Arnold Kevin.
Does Elizabeth Walton live here?

-Yes.
-Well...

Is she at home?

Yes.

Are you Elizabeth?

MARY ELLEN: Supper's on the
table! C'mon, everybody!

-BEN: Oh, chicken!
-I'll put you next to Grandpa.

Nobody's sat here since our
eldest son went to New York.

It's an honor. I appreciate
you asking me to stay.

It's our pleasure.

GRANDPA: Ah, look what
we have here. Hello, young man.

When a young man travels
across the state of Virginia

to see a young, tall,

beautiful, 18-year-old girl,
the least we can do is feed him.

Daddy! I already told him
I was sorry.

Well, I'm not sorry.

I'll be honest
with all of you.

My family live
on a farm in Ohio.

I have four sisters.

One like you, Elizabeth.

My grandpa...

Well, I haven't been home
in almost a year.

Well, this here grandpa
welcomes you heartily.

Let's all hold hands
in spirit of reverence and pray.

It's our custom, young man.

Father in heaven, him
omnipotent, with all our heart

to thee we call.

Our house is a haven, a refuge,
in times of darkness and light.

We're grateful that the trailing
arbutus is still with us here

on the mountains,
Elizabeth can wander down

to the pale,
green, piney woods.

(GRANDPA CHUCKLING)

Ah, Jason, you're going
to wear that cow's hide out

if you keep on like that.

-I think she likes it, Grandpa.
-Hmm.

You're still worried about
Verdie, aren't you?

I can't take my mind off it.

That woman, Miss Unwin,
was so contemptuous of Verdie.

The worst being it made Verdie
give up what she was doing.

Yes, that's the part that's
troublesome to me, too.

I'll tell you something,
Grandpa.

I can't go back there again

and face that woman,
even if Verdie changed her mind.

No, I don't think you'd do
a particle of good.

It might help if I went back
to talk to her.

-You?
-Yes.

I think she might
be more accommodating

if she got to talking
to someone that remembers

some of the same things
that she remembered.

Did you know her once?

Yeah, everybody around here
knows Miss Estelle.

You know, the Unwins,
they lost everything

after the War between the States
and the Reconstruction.

She's done her best to try
to hold everything together,

her heritage and all,
she's a brave woman.

I don't see anything
very brave about her.

It seems to me
like she's wasted her life.

Maybe.

But you've got to remember she
comes from a time when position

and tradition meant everything.

Does that give her
any right to hurt Verdie?

No, it don't.

Let's get dressed up
and go and see her again.

We'll take Verdie with us.

Grandpa...

You may think that Estelle
is a mean, narrow-minded woman,

but the main thing is,

you gotta call attention to that
fact that she's a human being.

It'll work.
C'mon, let's try it.

Come on, get dressed.
Leave that cow alone!

Where do we find Miss Unwin?

I reckon she's down
at the greenhouse.

Thanks.

I asked you to keep away
from here.

Miss Unwin,

I beg your pardon for this
intrusion. I fetched them here.

This is my grandson
and I am Zebulon Walton.

I'm sure that's all interesting,
but not to me, I'm afraid.

Zeb Walton
from Walton's Mountain,

you can see it most anywhere
from your place.

My family have lived on that
mountain for generations,

and I know everything
about them.

How they come there
in the first place.

How they lived
and how they died.

And my grandson
knows the same things

and his grandchildren
will, too.

I am going into my house,
and when I get there,

I want not to see you here.

You do that, Miss Unwin.

You go into your house.

I reckon your house is
something like our mountain.

It's been in your family
for generations.

My grandfather has told me
you've spent your whole life

trying to preserve
the heritage of your family.

That is true.

You've been very lucky
to be able to do that.

Lucky?

I think Jason means that you're
lucky to have had facts.

And things to look at and live
with that describe your family

and always will.

Whatever there is for Mrs.
Foster to know is in your house,

tied up with your memories
and traditions.

It's her heritage, too.

It is not true.

VERDIE: It is.

Your family owned mine.

In my house, the attic
is at the top of the stairs.

On the left-hand side, I haven't
been in there in years,

I hope you'll find what you are
looking for in there.

Thank you.

If you do find anything,
I'd be happy to hear about it.

"Unwin Estate Records.

"1803 to 1832."

Wasn't your grandfather
born in 1831?

You can't read any of it.

Rain's got to them.

JASON: "January, 1830. February.

"March."

There's nothing's left of it.

We're not going
to find anything.

This is where it began.

This is where it ends.

Is there anything in the desk?

Letters.

Some old bills.

This looks like
some kind of a drawing book.

Sketching was very popular
in those days,

especially with the rich ladies.

This looks very old.

Could you get the light?

"1828.

"Sketches executed
by Mary Emma Unwin.

"Portrait of my father,
Thomas Unwin,

"January 2, 1829."

"Portrait of my dear sister,
Alice Ann Unwin, June 10, 1829."

"Edward Newby, houseboy,

"bought 1827."

"Nelly Newby, laundress,
bought 1828."

"Biddy Lawson, cook,

bought from Colonel Chester
Lawson, 1825."

"Abraham, field hand."

"Seth Adu,

"renamed Randolph Harris,

"with his baby son

"called Albert,

"September, 1832."

The medallion.

That baby must be
your grandfather.

With his father.

My great-grandfather.

Verdie, I'll, uh...
I'll meet you outside.

I think you ought
to have this book.

I'm going to talk
to Miss Unwin about it.

Someday,

I'll search further.

Someday, I'll cross the ocean
and find my deepest roots,

and if I can't go,

then my children, or their
children, will go in my place.

And then

all the names and faces

and places of our history
will be known to them

and to their children, too.

JOHN-BOY: All the dreams that
were born in those early years

on Walton's Mountain
were not fulfilled.

But whatever we people
on the mountain

may or may not
have accomplished in life,

we were held together,
and still are,

by the knowledge
of ourselves as families.

Our roots go deep, and we try
our best to keep them nourished

and healthy for the generations
yet to come.

JOHN: About time to turn in,
Jason.

JASON: I was just thinking
about today, Daddy.

Verdie finding all her
relatives.

OLIVIA: She won't ever again
have that all-alone feeling.

MARY ELLEN: Something nobody in
this family has to worry about.

Including John Curtis, we have
four generations under one roof.

ELIZABETH: Grandpa,
do we have a family tree?

GRANDPA: Have it?
Elizabeth, we live in it.

(CHUCKLING) Goodnight,
everybody.