Original subtitles

Well, now, now, that's too much, now.

You can't put too much pepper or sage in good Virginia sausage.

You know, she tries to help, but, she just butts in.

Well, now, does everybody feel this way?

All I know is that we haven't had

one moment's peace in this house since she came here.

In my day, a man's word meant something.

You told, didn't you?

In the summer of 1937

it seemed as if Walton's Mountain was reborn.

The blue misted mountains, the tall stands of evergreens

and the wild flowers that grew everywhere

gave a fragrance to the air and a spirit to the soul.

It was also the summer that Martha Corinne Walton

came to visit and that made it a summer to remember.

Martha Corinne, I hope you'll stay long enough

to meet my husband Curt.

He's a doctor. Dr. Willard.

Well, I hope I do.

Where is he tonight?

He's out seeing some folks in the backwoods.

Well, that's fitting.

It's been a long spell,

since I've had a supper as good as this one

and kinfolk to share it with.

What about Boone and Wade?

Don't they come and visit you often?

Boone's off in the mountain making moonshine

and Wade and Vera, they got their family

and their own lives to live.

Must get awfully lonely,

being all by yourself.

It does sometimes.

Ben, do you know,

what became of my big suitcase?

It's in the living room.

Well, bring it to me, will you?

Sure.

How long can you stay with us, Martha Corinne?

Till you get tired of me.

Or I get tired of you.

Here you go.

Put it right here.

I...

I brought a little something for the each of you.

Now my big problem's going to be

remembering which name goes with which face.

Jim-Bob.

Used to be little and skinny.

Yes, ma'am.

Don't call me ma'am.

It makes me sound old. Call me Martha Corinne.

This is for you.

Thank you.

-And one for Jason. -Thank you.

And one for Ben.

Thank you.

And those go with the ones that you found up in the mountains.

Arrowheads.

They'll be worth a lot of money someday.

-Thank you. -Elizabeth...

That's a nice one, Son.

And Erin.

Right here.

Those are for you.

-Well, thank you. -They're soft inside.

-They are? -These are pretty.

Mary Ellen, would you help me with this?

Just look at this one.

My goodness!

That's for your new life.

That'll last you a hundred years, at least,

then you can pass it on to your children.

It's just beautiful, thank you.

-It's really nice. -Let me see, Mary Ellen.

-Look. -Zeb.

For me?

They're the good ones, huh?

This is for you. It was Henry's.

And his favorite soap is still in there.

It's about the only thing of his I got left.

I'll treasure it always, Martha Corinne.

Esther,

I crocheted this bedspread for you.

Like I said, thank you.

And. John, I remember you complimenting

my pickled peaches.

So I put some up, just the way you like it.

Good!

Lots of cloves.

Thank you.

Stop thanking me, or we'll be here all night.

Olivia,

this is a shawl.

My mama crocheted every stitch of it

and gave it to me on my wedding day.

I want you to have it.

It's just beautiful, Martha Corinne.

I shouldn't take it but I will, thank you.

John-Boy.

I thought you might like these.

Well, thank you.

Look at that.

That's Henry and me,

taken by a traveling picture-taker

in 1868.

I was pretty, then, wasn't I?

And that's Boone,

taken when he was a baby.

Grandpa?

And...

Who's this, now?

Zeb and Henry's mama and papa,

taken on their wedding day.

My great-grandpa and grandma.

They most surely were.

They was the first Waltons in Virginia.

This is the most important of all.

Who is that?

This is Henry.

It was taken when he was in the Civil War,

just before he lost his arm.

It was taken by Mathew Brady.

Martha Corinne, are you sure you want to give these away?

Of course, I am. Otherwise I wouldn't do it.

Now I'm tired.

Have you a place for me to sleep tonight?

Well, you stay in my room.

I'll sleep in The Chronicle office, alright?

No! If anybody sleeps in the office, I do.

You certainly will not.

You'llhave your own bed right here in this house.

I don't want to cause anybody any inconvenience.

It's no trouble, really.

Well, I'm too tired to argue.

You show me where to go.

Good night.

Thank you.

Good morning.

Why ain't you in school?

Well, it's Saturday.

Never was one to keep track of the days.

Where did you get this?

Well, I got it from Mr. Monroe down the road.

Gave him $2 for it.

I had one of these when I was a little girl.

Prettiest shay in the country.

Prettiest what?

Shay. What do you call it?

Well, it's a pony cart.

Shay's got a nicer sound to it.

Good morning, Martha Corinne.

It is a handsome day.

Did you sleep well upstairs last night?

Tolerable.

Not as well as I do at home on my corn husk mattress.

What are you making there?

These here, they are spokes for the wheels

on Ben's pony cart.

We used to hone them down by hand.

Too spindly.

Ought to be fatter.

See there, it fits.

Well, just 'cause it fits don't mean its right.

Wheel gets the most work and it needs a good sturdy spoke.

Another eighth of an inch ought to do it.

Never yet seen a slab of pine that didn't splinter to pieces

when you nailed it.

Pine wood is soft.

Well, makes you wonder if it's worth the cutting.

It sells.

That's 'cause most folks don't know the difference.

Oak's the best.

Couldn't agree with you more.

Well, then, why are you selling pine?

It's all people can afford.

Why can't they afford oak?

Costs more to cut.

Grows a ways out, I have to haul it in, I have to charge more.

Maple is another one of my favorites.

I suppose you have to charge more for it, too.

Have to.

Makes a body wonder,

what ever happened to quality?

I've come in to help.

We're doing just fine, Martha Corinne.

-Why don't you rest? -I'm tired of resting.

I'm used to keeping busy.

Esther?

Well, you can mix the sausage while I cut up the vegetables.

Well, how much sage did you put in it?

-One tablespoon. -Pepper?

Like I always do, two parts.

That's not enough.

Well, now, now, that's too much, now.

You can't put too much pepper or sage in good Virginia sausage.

It's supposed to be spicy enough to make your eyes water

and the sweat pop out.

Won't be fit to eat.

Can't you sit down and eat, John-Boy?

Mama, I got no time.

I'll make myself a sausage sandwich

because I want the new edition to be delivered tomorrow.

That's the best sausage sandwich I ever ate in my life.

I'm going to have me another one of those.

I'll be the only one in school who knows how to spin wool.

Well, I promised that I'd teach you how.

That music sounds strange to me.

Anybody got some kind of a name for it?

It's called swing, Martha Corinne.

Music nowadays, Martha Corinne,

is a whole lot different from what it was in our day.

Our day?

Your music was different from what we had in my day.

Well, I like it.

So do I.

Someday I'm going to have a band just like that.

Now pay attention to what you're doing.

What time is it?

It's five after 7:00, Erin.

Tommy's late.

He said he'd be here at 7:00.

-How do I look? -Snazzy.

Mama, will you fix my bow, please?

My land, you look so pretty, Erin

you have to watch out for those boys.

They be buzzin' around you tonight.

Grandpa!

Eighteen year old boys aren't to be trusted,

especially if they're from Buckingham County.

I used to favor the boys from Buckingham.

They could dance all night, if the orchestra lasted that long.

Livie, you should set a time for her to get home.

I trust Erin to take care of herself.

As long as you're back by 10:30, I mean.

Okay, Mama.

Can I borrow the shawl that Martha Corinne gave you?

I think you best ask her.

Please?

Don't ask me, I gave it to your mama.

Mama?

Thank you.

I know you'll be careful of it.

I will.

What time is it now?

It's seven after 7:00.

Well, maybe he got lost.

There he is. Mama, hurry!

Erin, you go upstairs to your room and wait.

Why?

Now, you heard me, go.

But he's waiting.

Not only is he late, he's not even polite enough

to come to the door.

Now you go upstairs and wait him out.

But he's waiting for me.

You heard me.

He'll leave without me. I just know he will.

And don't come down until you're called.

Mama, Tommy's here and Martha Corinne made me come upstairs.

Why?

Well, she doesn't think honking in front is polite.

She's quite right.

Well, it's none of her business.

She has no right telling me what to do.

Erin, just put up with it for now.

-She won't be here long. -How long?

Jim-Bob, I'll get it.

Hello.

Evening.

I'm Tom Wheeler. Is Erin ready to go?

I'm Martha Corinne Walton.

Come in.

Well, we're late. We really ought to be going.

Well, Erin isn't ready yet.

Come on in the house.

-You know everyone? -Yes, ma'am.

-Evening. Hi, guys. -Tom.

We've been listening to swing.

-Sit. -We're pretty late.

There.

Now, tell me about yourself.

Mama, she's going to ruin everything.

I doubt it. How do you like it?

Go down there and tell her. Tell her to stop meddling.

Erin, be patient with her.

What's she doing down there?

My daddy didn't just give me the car,

I had to work for it.

Well, that's the proper way.

Who did you work for?

For him. And he pays me the same as any of our hired men.

Every Saturday, I go down to the plant and take inventory.

Inventory? That sounds like a very important job.

Keeping track of everything?

Yes, ma'am.

That's past my head.

It seems to me

that I heard about some Wheelers,

lived over in Buckingham County.

Yes, ma'am, that's probably us.

We own the biggest tobacco warehouse around.

Well, I'll see if Erin's ready yet.

Erin, your young man's here.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

You're worth waiting for.

Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Walton.

Thank you.

Now, you be sure and bring her back by 10:30.

Yes, ma'am.

Good night.

-Good night. -Good night.

What do you think?

I suppose it's alright, if you're interested

in somebody named Joe Di...

DiMaggio.

Hitting baseballs for those Yankees.

I suppose it's interesting.

But to a lot of people it is interesting.

Well, I guess it's good to keep up to date

for what's happening up there in New York.

But it just seems to me

that you can tell all that in one little place,

and then use the rest for what's happening right here

where everybody lives.

Well, unfortunately, Martha Corinne,

I think most people would find that kind of dull reading.

Well, you're the writer,

and it's up to you to make it interesting.

Watch the dowels.

Hey, they're working good.

-You're getting along well. -Yeah.

But I'll tell you what I think.

I think that the seats are too high.

And I think that this is too low, right here.

Hardly been able to set foot in the kitchen since she came here.

Well, I don't care much whether she hears me or not.

Grandma.

She's always telling me what to do, too.

Elizabeth.

Well, she does.

Come on, now, it's time for bed.

Come on.

Say good night. Good night, Mommy.

Good night, Grandma.

-Good night, everybody. -Good night.

Good night.

Hey, everybody.

Hey, John-Boy.

Did you put the paper to bed?

All finished.

Did you print what I gave you?

What was that?

Just some little items.

I wrote up some of my recipes for John-Boy

to print in his newspaper.

And I gave him my sausage recipe

and my breaded veal cutlet

along with red-eye gravy and grits.

I didn't know you were running a recipe column.

Well, it, it...

We don't ordinarily do that.

It's just that Martha Corinne felt that

it would be of interest to the readers.

Well, it's my bedtime. Good night, everybody.

Good night.

Mine, too, I got some work.

Work on some recipes, no doubt.

Grandma, I got myself into a situation I couldn't say no.

Well, you said no to me easy enough.

Good night.

Grandma, he couldn't help it.

You know how Martha Corinne is.

Meddlesome.

You know, she tries to help, but, she just butts in.

Well, now, does everybody feel this way?

-I do. -Afraid so.

She's old and lonely and I like her.

So do I, Jim-Bob.

Mama, how long is she going to stay?

I don't know.

All I know is that we haven't had one moment's peace

in this house since she came here.

You didn't put an eye in that one.

You startled me.

I didn't mean to.

Well, it certainly is a glorious day, isn't it?

When I lived up on Blue Rock Creek,

days like this were to glory and...

Down here nothing's the same.

Things are changing too fast now.

I guess maybe I'm getting too old to change with them.

I'm more or less living in the past.

Some things in the past are worth remembering

and keeping the same.

You got room for another, right in there.

Well, Martha Corinne,

your visit has certainly been a pleasant one.

I always feel that it's...

It's good for families to get together for a while

now and then.

Yes.

We used to have gatherings in the old days.

Usually at Christmas and Easter time and such.

I remember the womenfolk used to be in the kitchen,

cooking up everything they could think of

and gossiping to beat the band.

And the men, they'd be out behind the shed,

having a swig or two.

Pitching horseshoes and...

Or just swapping stories.

I guess you miss those times.

I miss the people.

They're all gone now.

This thing about getting old...

Of course, you're a whole lot smarter.

But the sad thing is to see your kin

and your friends go, one by one.

That's the hardest part of all.

As you say, Olivia, it's been a real nice visit,

and I thank you for everything.

Do you suppose

John-Boy would mind driving me

back to Brightwood in his automobile?

Of course not.

Well, I think I'd better get back

before my own garden withers away.

So, I'll go pack my plunder.

Just beautiful.

I was saying it's such a beautiful day.

It is that.

I want to thank you again for those pictures.

You're more than welcome, John-Boy.

I hope that you'll find a use for them someday.

John-Boy, are you in an all-fired hurry?

Not particularly, why?

Well, you see that fork up there?

Would you mind taking the left one?

Not the road to Brightwood.

I'd kind of like to visit the old home place again.

Blue Rock Creek, sure.

This log was the one that was out of the kitchen wall.

Henry and me cut every one of them, and we built the cabin

with our own hands.

And we fitted each one to the other with love and care.

John-Boy,

I can stand here and I can hear Henry

laughing with that big booming voice of his.

Me standing alongside.

I can hear my babies crying.

Boone,

and little Henry, who lived less than...

Two weeks.

Over here was the veranda

where we'd sit every evening

listening.

Listening to the creek and the night birds calling.

There were skeeters,

and to get rid of them,

Henry use to smoke that awful smelling tobacco of his.

And how I'd complain.

What I wouldn't give to get a whiff of that tobacco now.

Well, come along.

Neglected graves are a shameful thing.

Martha Corinne, how did you all come to settle out here?

Seems to be so far away from everything else.

The Waltons and the Tylers,

that was my maiden name before Henry,

ever seemed always be looking for a place to rest

where it was quiet.

Zeb's and Henry's father,

Samuel Walton, he'd come over from England

in 1810.

He came over on a boat they called a whaler.

Did you know him?

Lordy, yes.

I used to sit by the fireside

listening to him tell stories by the hour.

What sort of man was he?

He was a rascal,

to hear him tell about it.

According to him, his younger years...

Well, it was just one adventure after another.

Would you like I write this all down for you, John-Boy?

It's just that I like to know as much as I can

about the roots of the family.

Roots. Roots, that's a good word.

Everybody's got a family tree

and just to know how the roots grew.

Well, that gives you a sense of who you are.

There's lots of things I could tell you about your stock.

When I get home,

I'll start writing it all down for you.

Are you alright?

Take a deep breath. Can you take a deep breath?

Water. Down by the creek.

Is it alright to leave you?

I'll be right back.

Here, now drink this.

Take it easy. Don't go too fast.

You want some more?

Best tasting water in the country.

Even with the rust.

Okay, I want you to stay right here and rest.

Well, for a minute or two.

It's just a little indigestion, that's all.

It's your heart, isn't it?

There's nothing the matter with me.

I think I understand why you come to visit us

and how come you wanted to give away so many things

that meant so much to you.

There's no truth to that at all.

Now you take me home.

I'm gonna take you to see Dr. Willard.

I've already been to the doctor.

What did he say?

I'm 90 years old.

I'm wore out.

Martha Corinne,

how many of these...

Of these attacks have you had already?

I don't keep track.

How many?

Well, a few.

But if you tell anyone...

I can't keep something like this a secret.

I'm gonna take you back to our house.

No!

I've got too much pride to go back there with you.

You can't stay alone anymore.

Well, I've already said my good-byes.

And to go back and face them all would be humiliating.

Will you do something for me, John-Boy?

What?

Will you see to it that I'm buried right next to Henry?

When the time comes for that.

Today, tomorrow or next year,

will you see to it?

I'll see to it.

Come on, let's get in the car, alright?

Wait a minute.

And you'll take me to Brightwood.

No. Walton's Mountain.

No.

I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll take you to your house.

If I do that, I'll go home and tell my folks you're sick.

The minute I tell them, they'll be knocking at your door,

wanting to take care of you.

I'd hate to be as stubborn as you are.

Alright, I'll go.

But you've got to promise that you won't tell.

Okay.

Must be John-Boy.

John-Boy, what happened today?

What happened about what?

Martha Corinne. You started to take her home.

Well, we got as far as the fork in the road

then she decided to go up to Blue Rock Creek,

see the old place. So I took her there.

Why did you bring her back here?

Mama, she's lonely.

And I know she's old and she's set in her ways,

but she doesn't do anything to bother anybody on purpose.

I know that.

Well, that's it.

Are you sure?

Esther, your soup was delicious.

Thank you.

It was the butter beans that gave it the good flavor.

Did you raise them yourself?

I did.

Well, having your own garden and picking things fresh

is what makes the difference.

Mom, is it alright if I go work on my pony cart?

Shay.

Don't stay out there too long.

I won't.

If you two think you can manage,

I think I'll go out and work with him a bit.

Think we can manage, Livie?

You know, I bet I'll get $15 for this thing when it's done.

Now that's turning a right smart profit.

Shame they don't make these no more.

I'm sure glad they don't.

I wouldn't be getting $15 for this one.

I sure had my share of fun in the one I had when I was a girl.

You needn't look at me like that.

I was as young as you are once.

'Course it was about the time of the Flood.

What color paint you got around here?

Gray.

Gray's only good for hair.

I'll make you a deal.

I don't think I'm gonna like it.

When we get this all put together,

I'll paint it up like they did in the olden times.

And then if you don't like it,

you can paint it all over with your gray.

Fair enough?

I guess.

Good.

Now, where did she put that frying pan?

Livie!

Don't say it.

Look, I don't know if I can stand her here much longer.

Grandma, do you always have to complain?

I have a good reason.

And I don't need you harping at me.

I'm sorry.

What's gotten into him?

I don't know.

John-Boy, what's wrong with you?

You've never spoken to your grandma like that.

I said I was sorry.

I think it's time you told me what's bothering you.

There's more to your bringing Martha Corinne back here

than just her being lonely.

This family doesn't keep secrets from each other, John-Boy.

You're holding something back.

It's about Martha Corinne.

What is it? I want to know right now.

She's been having heart attacks.

That's why she came here in the first place.

Because she didn't want to die all alone in that house.

Martha Corinne, why don't you rest?

'Cause I'd rather do what I'm doing.

-Martha Corinne, let me do that. -No.

Martha Corinne, how about a nice cold glass of buttermilk?

No. Thank you, Esther.

It'll spoil my supper.

Little taste, huh?

No!

Martha.

Where's John-Boy?

In my day, a man's word meant something.

You told, didn't you?

Yes, ma'am, I did.

My mother figured out something was wrong. I'm sorry.

And now they're all looking at me.

When they don't think I'm looking,

waiting for me to drop dead

so they can pick me up before I hit the floor.

They're concerned for you.

Well, they can be concerned about something else.

I don't want to be dead before I die.

Alright, I'll take you back home, if that's what you want.

Not until I help Ben finish that shay.

What's this?

I wrote down some of the history of the Waltons and the Tylers.

Not all of it,

but most of the begats are there.

Goes all the way back from England.

Tells what kind of blood you got in you.

Of course, there's some you might not want to brag on.

More than likely it's from that line

that you get your ability to break promises.

I still say the spokes are too spindly.

Easy now, Ben.

That's a beauty!

-Good job, Ben. -Thank you, Pa.

The saw!

Ben, can I have the first ride?

No, you can't.

You can pick the one who'll be first.

I want to ride first.

You're gonna be second. Now close your eyes.

Okay, I'm gonna turn you around and around

and the first person you pick is gonna be the first, okay?

I knew it was gonna be you. I peeked.

Well, you're first. Here we go.

Martha Corrine!

Zeb.

We got a camera I borrowed from Ike.

I want to take a family picture.

Grandpa, let me. You ought to be in it.

No, I'll take this, and you can take another.

Alright.

Stand still there now. Everybody.

Grandma, I can't see over your hat.

Jim-Bob, stop making faces.

I can't help it. That's just the way I am.

Hold it still.

Watch the birdie.

Alright, my turn.

Out of the way.

Your hat, Pa.

Alright, everybody ready?

Smile.

Come on, let's go.

-Have a nice ride. -Have fun.

Bye!

Don't go over five miles an hour.

Ben, I couldn't ask for a smoother

and more comfortable ride.

You know, I never thought I'd tell you this

but you're a pretty fine painter.

Pull over there.

What?

Pull over.

I want to get out.

I'm gonna pick some daisies.

You go on and test it out.

Okay.

The summer of 1937 was a summer to remember

because it was the summer that Martha Corinne came to visit.

She was buried on the mountain next to Henry,

and the graves were never again overgrown with weeds,

because as she said, "Neglected graves are a shameful thing."

Ben never sold the pony cart.

He kept it as a sort of legacy for Martha Corinne.

But perhaps the most important legacy of all

was the one Martha Corinne gave to me.

Are you asleep yet, John-Boy?

Not yet, Elizabeth.

-What are you doing? -Writing.

What are you writing?

A new beginning for my book.

What is it?

It's the history of the Waltons that Martha Corinne gave me.

That's what's been wrong with the book all the time.

It didn't have a beginning.

Now it does.

-I'm glad. -So am I.

-Good night, Elizabeth. -Good night, John-Boy.

Sleep good