Original subtitles

On Walton's Mountain, the changing of the seasons

marked the rapid day-to-day growth

of the younger members of our family.

With all the process of change,

there were lasting values in our lives

as enduring as the mountain itself.

But there came a time when our values were tested

by events which came upon us without warning.

Careful now.

While you're up there, take a good look at the shingles.

Still can't understand what that thing is for.

A lightning rod protects the house.

Think I'll put one in the tree house.

Daddy catches you up in that tree house in a thunderstorm,

you'll need more than a lightning rod.

Not very pretty, is it?

You can always train a morning glory vine to grow up it.

The beauty is what it does.

Looks like a toy flagpole.

It's a pretty useful thing.

Lightning always hits the highest spot,

whether it's a tree or on a house.

Runs down the pole, here along the eaves,

down here, and hits the ground

and explodes, just as harmless as a kitten.

I think you put it in the wrong place.

What?

Well, it looks like it'd bring the lightning right down to our bedroom.

Wow! Be just like old times, wouldn't it, hon?

John-Boy, I'm ready to go to town.

Yes, ma'am.

Grandma, I'm gonna tell Ike you're buying at someone else's store.

You tell him I'm comparing prices.

Last time he charged me six cents for a five cent spool of thread.

It was so old, it kept breakin'.

Come on, let's go. Got your list?

It's all in my head.

There isn't a prettier place in the world to keep it.

Been a long while since you've been in town, hasn't it, Grandma?

Right. I... I remember this street.

Jefferson, isn't it? That's right.

Oh, this brings back memories. When I was a little...

The Whitley House is right around the corner. Uh-huh.

Pull over, will you, John-Boy, please?

Why, sure.

This house used to be a tavern, didn't it, Sister?

Oh, never a tavern, dear.

Ooh. More of a comfortable old country inn,

where friends would gather for conversation and companionship.

Mr. Woodrow Wilson himself was said to have visited here

after he returned to Staunton.

Papa used to meet with his lady friends here.

Cousins, Emily. They were his cousins.

Never his lady friends.

If they were his cousins, why didn't they ever come visit us?

Perhaps they will, dear, someday.

Well, Miss Emily, Miss Mamie, how do, ladies?

Good to see you. John-Boy.

Mrs. Walton.

Well, what's going on here, ladies?

The Whitley House has been condemned.

Oh, no.

Our papa used to come here when it was a tavern.

Emily.

To visit with his cousins.

Well, I used to come here after the Whitleys turned it into a private house.

Some of the best memories of my life live in that house.

Did you have cousins here, too, Mrs. Walton?

No, but something very special happened to me right there.

And under that window.

Oh, really? What was that?

It's private.

Oh, well, excuse me.

Now they're gonna tear it down and put up some cheesebox of a store.

Well, I hate to tell you, Grandma,

but it looks to me like it's about ready to fall down on its own.

Well, then they should prop it up, not tear it down.

I agree with you, Mrs. Walton.

I'm going to have a talk with that gentleman.

Sir?

Yes, ma'am.

I am Mamie Eudora Wingfield Baldwin.

Joe Wheeler. County supervisor, ma'am.

How do you do?

I wish to register my strongest objection to this outrage.

Me, too.

These ladies were concerned

because they have many fond memories of this old place

and they were just wondering if there was any possible way it could be saved.

Well, I'd like to help you out.

But I'm afraid it's out of my hands.

Whose hands is it in?

It's in the county's, ma'am.

You see, the owner lived down in Atlanta and he let it go for back taxes.

They put it up for sale but nobody bid on it.

So now it's just a nuisance to the county.

Hangout for hobos and kids.

That foundation is just riddled with termites.

So, I'm sorry, we're gonna have to tear it down.

Thank you anyway.

Do something, Sister.

I am considering, Sister.

John-Boy, what can we do?

Well, I don't know.

You could petition the county, you know.

If you got enough signatures on a petition they might restore the place.

That's an excellent idea, John-Boy.

Are you with us, Sister?

And, John-Boy, you use the strongest words you know.

Next thing they'll be wanting to tear down Monticello or Mount Vernon.

Hey, everybody!

Grandma, you'll never guess what happened today.

You are looking at the only freshman at the Kleinberg Conservatory

to go into Advanced Theory and Counterpoint.

That's nice. What is it?

Well, it's an advanced music class.

And they teach theory, and... and harmony,

and I'm finding out all the things I need to know.

It isn't what you know that makes you a musician.

It's how much you feel.

That's true.

Will it be all right if I listen to the radio tonight during supper?

I don't see why not. Good.

There's a broadcast of classical music

that Professor Thaxton wants us to listen to.

Yeah, well, classical music is good for the soul, I guess,

but I like a tune you can dance to.

Something you can put your foot to the floor to.

Well, barn dance picking is a lot of fun,

but Professor Thaxton says I've got to stick with serious music from now on.

Country music has been entertaining folks

since before you or your Mr. Thaxton were born.

So you can't turn your back on it

just because some professor says so.

Wasn't gonna turn my back on it.

But I have to think of the future.

The future's all right. But I like to remember the past, too.

Zeb knows it's suppertime. Do you know why he isn't here?

Just down at Ike's, Ma. Don't worry. He'll be along.

If he isn't along soon I'm gonna go looking for him.

Daddy, can I go upstairs and eat my pie?

Something wrong?

That music's making me lethargic.

Whatever that means.

Oh, I don't know what it means, either.

But when I was acting that way today during history class,

Mrs. Fordwick said I was being lethargic.

You're excused. Thank you.

Me, too. Me, too.

I'm gonna go give Elizabeth a hand.

Everybody going?

Maybe you ought to turn that music down, Son.

Doesn't seem to be too popular.

I think they've all got tin ears.

Ah, little old darling.

Zeb, come and get your supper while it's hot.

I've been all over the county and there isn't a woman in it

that's got as handsome a figure as you've got.

What'd you do, win the Irish Sweepstakes?

I got us a job.

Well, that's always welcome.

But don't pay one red penny.

Sorry to hear that.

But for our labors we're gonna get

some of the finest wood there is in existence.

Tulipwood, satinwood, mahogany,

cherry, maple wood, and chestnut.

Well, you can't buy wood like that anymore.

How'd you come across this wood, Grandpa?

I was down at the store and there was old Yancy,

and he took me for a ride up Rockfish River.

There was this old house.

They're going to tear it down.

I went back to courthouse and asked

if there's any demolition rights as yet.

They said, "No, not as yet."

And I volunteered and we've got us a job.

Uh-oh.

The Whitley House?

Oh, yes, Esther. How do you know that?

Because that's the house we're gonna save.

Why would you want to save an old falling down house for?

Because I love that house.

It was built when the town was only a turn-around in the road.

When I was a girl, the Whitley House was the middle of everything.

I appreciate your feelings, Ma,

but if we don't do the job, they'll just give it to somebody else.

Well, I can't see it torn down by Zeb or anybody.

So you might as well just forget it.

We're getting up a petition.

All the petitions in the world won't save a house that's caving in.

Well, good Lord, you could fix it up and keep it as a landmark.

You know, Grandma, I've been thinking about that.

That'd take an awful lot of money.

I don't know if anybody's got that kind of money these days.

Whose side are you on?

I'm just trying to look at both sides of it.

And I can't honestly say

that the community could afford to repair that place.

Well, then, why don't they just let it die of natural causes,

in peace and dignity?

Ma, that's not the way things go with houses.

Zeb, I... I have such memories of the dances and the parties there.

The Whitleys had money,

and they used to ask all the young people in, and...

Well, Zeb remembers. Go on, you tell them.

Sure, I was there lots of times.

We went dancing there when we first started courting.

Have you forgotten that?

I shook a leg at most every dance in the county one time or another,

you can't expect me to remember them all.

There's not one single person in this house

that has one penny's worth of regard for the past.

It was part of my growin' up.

I used to go by that house every day on my way to school when I was a little girl.

Yes, John-Boy, I was a girl once.

Well, I didn't say anything.

And I used to look up at that high window,

with all the colored, stained glass, and...

Well, it just seemed so high, above the clouds, above everything.

And then one day they let me go up and look through it.

And it was all agleam in the morning sunshine.

And I used to wonder

what... what Walton's Mountain would look like through that window.

And there's all that good hardwood sitting inside

doing no good to anybody.

We can't buy wood like that anymore, Esther.

Well, you're just gonna have to do without.

And what's that mean, Ma?

The ladies of the Rockfish Historical Society are on the march.

Isn't that a withering thought?

Pa.

Ma's got such strong feelings about this.

Maybe we'd better find ourselves another job.

You go get yourself another job. I've got a job.

How many of you heard Haydn on the radio last night?

I did. I did.

We are going to be delving into the hidden textures and harmonies of this quartet.

Now, an excellent way to do this

is by reducing the quartet,

so that it may be played as a duet for violin and piano.

Do I have two students

to play the duet at a recital this Friday?

How about me? I know it by heart.

No, Felicia, you played at the last recital.

Hollis, you take the violin part.

Now, someone for the piano.

Think you can handle it, Jason?

Yes, sir.

You play guitar, too?

Mmm-hmm. Not classical.

I play with a group called the Haystack Gang. We play barn dances.

Now let's listen to the last part of the movement.

Hey, Rosie. Hi.

Mr. Johnson, you wanted to see me?

Yes, John-Boy, yes.

How'd you like to write an editorial for me?

I certainly would, thank you very much.

Is this by way of a promotion?

No, just that I'm getting a little tired.

I may decide to sell this place and move to Florida.

I'd certainly hate to see that happen.

Well, I'll give you first crack at buying me out if you want.

Well, thank you very much.

Well, anyway, I've got something of a hot potato here.

Well, you always told me that was the only kind to have.

I did? Mmm-hmm.

Yeah, it's true, I did.

We're, uh, talking about the Whitley House. Oh.

Maybe you've heard it's been condemned.

Yes, I know all about that place.

Well, now I don't want the, uh, usual stuff,

names and dates and facts, and who slept here and all that.

I want you to get to the meat of the thing.

"The passing of a style of living."

Hmm.

Something's wrong. Oh, no, nothing.

Not at all. It's just...

Wouldn't you know, my very first editorial.

You see, my grandfather has been contracted to tear the place down

and my grandmother is petitioning to keep the place up.

Do you believe that?

You're gonna be in trouble with your family.

Yes, it's quite possible, sir.

Good, good.

The best editorials come when there are deep feelings on both sides.

It's the only climate that grows real truth.

That may be true.

And this one is certainly gonna be a whopper.

Well, Jason, maybe it's too hard for you.

No, it isn't, I'll get it.

Elizabeth, I'm trying to practice.

Elizabeth, we're trying to listen to music.

This is music.

Oh, no, it's not. All it is, is a bunch of noise.

Would you all please be quiet so I can practice?

Jason, here. Come on. Will you play that, honey?

Grandma, I have... I'm trying to practice.

Oh, just a few bars.

It's a song my papa played and I haven't heard it in years.

I know this. I played this with Bobby Bigelow and the Haystack Gang.

Oh, I bet it sounds just great on the guitar with maybe a fiddle going along.

Go on, play it.

Grandma, I have some serious practicing to do. This isn't for fun.

You used to enjoy your...

Does that have to stop now that... that it's your career?

All I know is I've got to learn this whole thing by Friday, or else.

So I'd appreciate it if you'd all just leave me alone

so I can practice, all right?

Please?

Elizabeth! Gosh! Why can't I see it?

Well, because you're little.

I remember those parties at the Whitley House so well.

The fine way the young men were dressed,

smelling of brilliantine and Bay Rum.

And the Japanese lanterns hanging all the way down the banisters.

The country music, the dancing...

Does Grandpa remember, too?

I never told you this, Livie, but, uh,

it was on a spring night

at a dance, at the Whitley's that, uh,

Zeb first kissed me.

And then he sat down and played his banjo and sang a tune.

I won't lie to you, it wasn't very good.

But, that night,

I think it must have been the prettiest music I heard in my whole life.

Yeah, well,

maybe it means more to a woman to remember the little things.

But Zeb seems to have forgotten the whole thing.

You could remind him.

No. No, wouldn't be the same.

But if that petition goes through and we save that house,

then maybe someday

Zeb'll just up and remember it on his own.

Ladies and gentlemen,

in these days of Depression, poverty, and despair,

it seems to me that it behooves us to cling to the traditional,

the rich and the beautiful relics of our past.

It uplifts the spirit.

It provides beauty and permanence in our lives.

And, most of all, it's a dwelling place for precious memories.

Thank you.

Now, my sister Emily and Mrs. Zebulon Walton

are going to pass among you with our petition.

And I do hope that you will join us in our struggle

to save this noble, old home.

What are you doing here?

Well, your daddy's off getting us some tools.

I thought I'd take a look at the new job.

You better take a look at it from over here.

That side of the street's enemy territory right now.

Signatures, huh, they're getting on petitions? Are they getting any?

I imagine they're getting a few, sure.

Oh, dear. Never thought I'd live to see the day

when I'd be against your grandma on something like this,

and her on the side of the Baldwin sisters.

Well, life is full of surprises, isn't it, Grandpa?

Miss Emily.

Mr. Walton, how nice to see you.

I don't believe you've signed our petition yet.

No, I don't believe I have.

Well, that can be remedied post-haste.

Just sign right here.

Esther, haven't you told her yet?

I was too ashamed.

Ashamed? After me going out on my own and getting the first big job

I've had in many a day, you are ashamed?

That's right.

You're trying my patience, Esther.

I'm trying your patience?

Sister, I think we should leave.

Ladies, Miss Emily, Miss Mamie.

I know that you ladies are all worked up about saving this dear old house

and I don't blame you. I'm all for saving landmarks myself.

Why, I've got my favorite tree and my patches of wildflowers

such as I'm on speaking terms with, I know how you feel.

But this case is different.

This old house is gonna be torn down. It's condemned, it's dangerous.

Somebody is going to tear it down and I am going to do the job.

Mr. Walton, you're going to tear down the Whitley House?

That is just about the size of it.

Sister, Mr. Walton's going to tear down...

I heard.

Mr. Walton, I cannot believe that I could feel so angry

with someone I have been so fond of for so many years.

I'm sorry you feel that way, Miss Mamie.

I truly am.

What've you been doing here?

Oh, nothing, just some, uh, simple thoughts and phrases

to get started on my editorial, that's all.

Oh, dear.

Well, I guess I'd better be gettin' out of here.

Grandma, you about ready to go?

Before I met your grandpa, I spent the happiest days of my life in there.

When I was a little girl, Mrs. Whitley used to ask us in and then

bring out trunks with hats and gowns from the Civil War days

and we would play dress-up.

Oh, it was a magical time.

Aren't you coming to bed?

Oh, I'll be there in a minute, Esther.

What are you doing?

Well, I'm trying to figure out what to do with all that fine wood

in the interior of the Whitley place.

You still insist on going through with it?

Well, we run a mill,

and all that beautiful wood will make some exceptional furniture.

Is it so important, a few loads of wood?

Esther, this is not just any ordinary wood.

Whatever you call it. We can live without it, can't we?

Well, we've done without a lot of things in our life,

but this wood is something I happen to want.

And it doesn't matter to you how I feel, does it?

Saving a memory doesn't mean a thing to you.

These are hard times, Esther, and we just can't eat memories.

What has got into you, old woman?

I'm sick of this Depression.

And that we can sell our soul because we've got the Depression to blame it on,

and I'm sick of it.

You're just working yourself into a state.

Yes, I'm wrought up, and I intend to get more so.

What's going on down here?

Thought that new lightning rod was getting a work-out.

I knew he was stubborn, but this...

Ma, Pa, will you go to bed, please?

We can settle our own argument.

Grandma... All right, come on, Liv.

I will not have any more words with you on this matter, Esther.

Go on to bed.

Well, I want words. I want it talked out.

Very well, madam.

What if it was this house?

What if it was our children, our grandchildren that had lived here,

then how would you feel?

That hasn't anything to do with it.

We do not have sentimental attachments to the old Whitley place.

Well, I'm attached to it and you should be, too.

Aside from the wood that I can save,

that Whitley place is nothing but a claptrap fire trap.

Well, I knew you could be stubborn.

But I didn't know you could be heartless.

She's trying to make me mad.

Grandma, let me try that.

I'm just trying to lift up my spirits a little.

You're playing it in the wrong key. Key of G.

You know I don't read notes. Go on.

Your Professor Thaxton hear you play that?

Well, I'm afraid they don't think much of this kind of music

at the Kleinberg Conservatory.

It doesn't seem right.

You know, when I was young

and I was feeling lowly and didn't care about anything,

I'd pick out the notes on that and I'd be feeling better in no time.

You know something? It still works.

No, no, no. You keep it.

And when the feeling strikes you, you'll see what I mean.

Well, there's, uh, work to do on it, Hollis,

but you're coming along.

Well, Jason messed up the whole second movement.

No, I didn't. I just changed a few chords.

You're supposed to be accompanying, Jason, not improvising.

Well, I thought it would make it sound better.

This isn't your country hoe-down, you know.

I'm afraid that Hollis is right, Jason.

Improvising is for the Saturday night barn dance.

I'm sorry.

I thought it would make it more personal.

What was that?

I thought it would make it more personal.

Well, I'm sure that

Haydn had his reasons for writing this piece as he did.

Now, this was intended as a dialog.

What I've heard so far has sounded more like a war.

Now, let's try it again, boys.

You and grandma sure had a set-to last night, didn't you?

Once your grandma gets her dander up, she'll go all the way.

That's for sure.

Tell me something, Grandpa.

What do you know about this Whitley place?

About how long ago do you reckon it was built?

Well, early 1800s thereabout.

A lot of fine houses built all along the valley in those days.

Real craftsmanship then.

Why, they'd make a fireplace mantle out of one long piece of curly maple.

Hand-carved and scrolled into pretty designs.

Oh, in those days,

a house was something to hand down from generation to generation.

Isn't that exactly what Grandma was saying?

That's true. But what the dear lady forgets is

that a house, like anything else, is something built by man.

When its time comes, like anything else,

it goes back to the Earth from whence it come.

Yeah, I don't think you're ever gonna convince her of that.

Yes. That old Whitley place, time has come for it.

It's like an old tree, you know. Dead tree, rotten.

Ready to fall, when the first wind comes along.

Maybe kill someone if it goes down. Widow makers, we call them.

Already, there, that house is just full of curious kids running around,

that'd fall through the rotten floor.

Tramps, they could set fire to it some night

and spread the flames all down the street.

That there lady don't think about that.

Well, one thing's sure.

Whatever you write in your editorial

is gonna open up a basket of snakes.

My editor tells me that if something is not worth disagreeing about,

it's not worth writing about.

You just write what your side is.

Oh, I intend to.

"Cost what it may."

What's that supposed to mean?

Oh, it's an old quotation you threw at me one time or another.

Henry David Thoreau, in case you've forgotten. Which I doubt.

"Cost what it may. If I have unjustly wrestled a plank from a drowning man,

"I must restore it to him at any cost. Even if I drown myself."

And I have no idea what that's got to do with the Whitley place.

Halt, who goes there? What?

What are you doing? I'm on guard.

Who's the enemy?

I don't know. But there are a lot of houses being torn down around here

and I'm not gonna let them get mine.

You seem pretty certain about that.

Well, I'm the landlord.

Hey, landlord, why don't you come with me down to Rockfish?

What for? We'll snoop around the old Whitley place.

Take a look. Sure.

Come on.

Leave your gun.

Think we should go in?

Well, of course we should go in. The door's open.

I'll wait here.

You might miss something real good.

All right.

Hey, wait for me.

Jim-Bob, look at this room in here, will you?

Like in one of those Dracula movies.

Can you imagine the kind of people

that used to live in a house like this?

What about the people who are living here now?

Half-human bats with fangs, hanging upside down in the basement.

Look at that. Isn't that a shame?

Hey, Jim-Bob, look at this. Pickwick Papers.

I bet this is an old one.

Might be trap-doors around. Better watch where you step.

These rails are really something, aren't they?

Hey, Jim-Bob, look at this.

Do you see these marks up here on the wall, you know what that is?

That's where they measured how tall the children were getting every year.

Just like we do on the stairs at home.

Maybe that's how the vampire that lives here counts his victims.

One corpse buried under the fireplace for every mark.

This must be the backyard.

Yeah, this is the backyard out here.

I bet at night weird organ music comes out of the woodwork

and ghosts dance all over the place.

Talk about your woodwork. Look at that.

They just don't make it like this anymore, do they?

Look at the painting on the walls there.

I bet we couldn't even turn out stuff like this at our mill.

We're gonna open one of these doors and a big hairy arm is gonna come out.

Really a shame to see all this go to waste.

Jim-Bob. Hey, Jim-Bob.

Jim-Bob.

I know what I'm going to write in that editorial.

I know exactly what I'm going to write in that editorial.

Good. Can we go now?

No. I know exactly what I will say. I've got it all figured out.

Can you write it at home? I wanna get out of here.

Let's go.

Yeah. Let's go.

The place gives me the creeps.

Grandpa? Uh-huh?

Supper's ready.

I'll be in later.

He's chopping wood. He said he'll be in later.

Here, I'll help you out.

Ben. Just stop it.

You shouldn't be doing that.

Zeb.

We're sitting down to supper.

Sit. I'll be in when I'm ready.

I thought you'd outgrown this.

Outgrown what?

Chopping out your anger on a wood pile.

I'm not chopping out my anger. I am venting my exasperation.

Pure exasperation.

Well, how do you think I feel, Zeb?

We've had a lifetime together, and you've...

You've forgotten everything that I value the most.

I haven't forgotten anything.

I like all the old things. Just like you.

The old houses, the old mountains, the old books.

And if I had a few dollars in my pocket,

I would restore that old house. But I haven't.

That old house has been standing there dilapidated for years and years.

Not a whisper out of any of you.

Where were you and your ladies with your petition then?

Just answer me that.

You're miles away from what I'm talkin' about.

Esther,

if I knew what in the blue blazes you were talking about,

I could enter into your conversation.

But I don't know. And I don't think you know, either.

That's twice they've been yelling at each other.

I hate that old house.

Somebody just here?

Ike just left.

Is that what I think it is?

Your editorial is on Page 4.

Have you read it yet?

We thought you might like to read it to us.

Oh, no, no, no. Go ahead, Son.

I think you ought to pass it among yourselves.

John-Boy, we'd rather hear you.

From the horse's mouth.

Well, all right.

You might regret it.

Page 4.

"An editorial by John Walton, Jr.

"It is amazing how quickly a town can grow right under the feet of its residents.

"The symbols of the past are swept away

"by a sometimes reckless and irresponsible future.

"But we must be ever mindful that what is important to our lives

"is never swept away uncritically in the name of progress.

"Our roots, for good or ill, are firmly planted in the past.

"Without them, like a poplar tree

"torn up by a winter storm, we would fall.

"And lying without proper orientation to the sun, we would molder and decay."

So true, John-Boy.

John-Boy, where's that green tie of yours?

Uh, Jason.

Yeah, I'll tell you in a minute.

"A controversy that has split the town in two

"must soon be resolved,

"as we decide the fate of the old Whitley House

"on the corner of Jefferson and Elm.

"After a thorough investigation of the facts at hand,

"there is not enough money in the community at this time

"to restore the building,

"and in its present condition, it presents a hazard to our children.

"Given this situation, there seems no alternative

"to the removal of the old home.

"However, those who have awakened us by protesting long and hard

"over the destruction of this historic old house,

"should take nurture in the fact

"that the wood that has graced its rooms for so long

"might some day be a mantel in their own home

"or perhaps in the house down the street.

"Or it may become a part of a kneeling rail in the Episcopal Church,

"or the tables of the library.

"In that way, the Whitley House could always continue as a part of us

"in a way that the shabby old building on Jefferson and Elm never could."

Pa.

I've got work to do.

Well, it sure was a big hit, wasn't it?

I think you wrote it very well, and I'm proud of you.

You didn't expect to please anybody, did you? Oh, no.

No, I just thought an editorial was supposed to make people think.

I guess this one didn't do it, though, did it?

When he reads all those names on that petition, he'll change his mind.

The people have spoken.

With 21 names, he can scarcely refuse.

Well, if he does, as Vice President of the Historical Society,

I will move that we vote the man out of office.

As President, I'll second the motion.

Miss Baldwin. BOTH: Yes?

The supervisor has asked me to thank you and your group.

And he's sorry he can't do more.

He is going to halt the destruction on the Whitley House?

I am sorry, ladies, but the demolition has already begun.

Oh.

Oh. Emily,

I don't know how I'm going to face Esther Walton with this news.

Grandma, aren't you ready yet? We're about to leave in a minute.

Thank you, Livie, but I'd just as soon not go.

Now, sitting here all by yourself isn't going to make you feel any better.

Well, there wouldn't be any joy in it, Livie.

I know, but Jason's expecting you.

He's gonna be mighty disappointed if he looks out in the audience

and you're not there.

Yeah, I suppose you're right.

Well, I'll put on my hat.

Mighty slow getting started, huh?

Hey, Hollis.

Jason, did you bring the music?

I thought you had it.

It was on the rack in the rehearsal hall.

Now it's gone.

That Felicia. She took it, I'll bet.

Well, can't you play it from memory?

We practiced it enough times.

You mean you can't play at all without the music in front of you?

Look at them all.

Well, we've got to give them something.

How about Greensleeves?

But I don't know it.

Sure you do. It's the one that goes...

You don't understand. I know the tune. I just can't play it without music.

In fact, I can't play anything without music.

Hollis, I'll tell you what.

This is going to be our recital.

This right here. This?

Mmm-hmm.

Go out there and do your stuff.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a slight change in program.

May I present my partner, Jason Walton.

Thank you.

Hollis and I will be performing some classical music

from the hills of Virginia.

For next week, our advanced theory class

will continue the study of Haydn.

You remember him, don't you?

But perhaps for now,

we could have some more of Jason's Virginia classical music.

Do you know Cindy?

Start it, and I'll pick it up.

What is going on in there?

Hammering. Hammering what?

Oh, I don't know. Grandpa's in there hammering.

I don't know what's going on.

Where's everybody else?

Still at Jason's concert.

Oh.

What is that in there? What is he doing?

Told you. I guess he's keeping it secret.

Something awful mysterious going on in there, Grandpa.

Yes, indeedy. John-Boy, when your grandmother gets home,

ask her to pop into the bedroom.

Hmm. All right.

Has anybody thought about supper yet?

Hmm, my stomach has.

Here they are.

Hey. Hey, everybody.

You boys don't know what you missed.

The concert was wonderful.

Wonderful? All that long-haired music?

You don't know what you're talking about, Ben.

Go on, Jason. Show your brothers what they missed.

Doesn't sound to me like they want to hear it.

Oh, sure.

Play it, play it, Jason. Go on.

Oh, Grandma? Grandpa wanted to talk to you. He's in the bedroom.

I don't know what it was about.

All he said was that when you came in, he wanted to see you.

Zeb?

Well, you finally got here.

The Whitley House window.

Zebulon Walton, will you never stop surprising me?

You always said you wanted to see what Walton's Mountain looked like

through the Whitley House window.

Do you remember that tune from somewhere?

Yes. I played if for you on the front porch of the old Whitley place

when we went there for a dance one night.

I thought about it when I was bringing the window over here today.

I remember something else, too.

Out there in the porch, you sort of reached up your arms

you gave me a little peck.

You kissed me.

Oh, so I did.

Just listen to it, Esther.

Brings it all back, doesn't it?

I thought you'd forgotten.

The window was just the beginning.

My father and grandfather parceled out the doors and mantels and paneling

of the old Whitley House to our friends and neighbors.

Somehow, that bit of history in each of their homes

brought us all a little closer together.

Grandpa? Is the lightning rod working?

You go to sleep, Jim-Bob.

I'll wake you up the first sign

that the lightning rod is doing its duty.

Good night, Grandpa.

Esther, don't I rate a good night kiss?

Mmm. Well.

What's wrong?

When you kissed me, I'd have sworn a lightning rod

ran a bolt smack down here in the room with us.

Oh, you big talker.

Good night, everybody.