• The radio show that Ike and Grandpa are listening to while John-Boy worries about the letter he sent to Collier's magazine s1/e5
• Ep drops by Ike's store to listen to the radio show s1/e24

We're going to be one short tomorrow at picking apples. Daddy is letting Mary Ellen show Jamie the way over to Maude Gormleys. Wish I were going to hear Maude sing. She'd sing all day if anyone would listen.

Daddy went to notify the sheriff and he is not back yet. I guess he is checking the bus station and such places. If anybody is to blame for all of this I think it is Jamie. Leading his kind of life I guess you don't think too much about the consequences of what you do.

I was born in east Virginia,
North Carolina I did roam.
There I met a fair, pretty maiden,
Her name and age I do not know.
Her hair, it was a light sun color,
And her lips, a ruby red.
On her breast she wore white lilies,
There I long to lay my head.

Johnson boys were raised in ashes.
Didn't know how to court a maid.
Turned their backs and hid their faces.
Sight of a pretty girl makes them afraid.
Sight of a pretty girl makes them afraid.
Johnson boys eat peas and honey.
They have eaten them all their lives.
Makes the peas taste kind of funny.
But it keeps them on their knives.
But it keeps them on their knives.

I want to see an ocean, know if it tastes of salt.
Swimming in a Maine river, running wild.
Living in a city of strangers, where neighbors don't know my name.
Where I am “me”, and not my parent's child.
Some need roots to grow on, but I'm a blossom man.
Never saw a firefly caught that smiled.
Rainbows die at sunset and laughter has no sea.
My name is “Now", won't be tomorrow's child.

GALA EVENT – PRESENTING - MISS ALVIRA DRUMMOND - STAR OF STAGE AND SCREEN - SATURDAY SEVEN THIRTY - SELECTED READINGS - TICKETS ON SALE INSIDE

At night across the mountain when darkness falls and the winds sweep down out of the hollows, the wild things with their shiny eyes come to the end of the clearing. At such an hour the house seems safe and warm, an island of light and love in a sea of darkness. At such an hour the word “home” must have come into being, dreamed up by some creature that never knew a home. In his yearning there must have come to mind the vision of a mother's face, a father's deep voice, the aroma of fresh-baked bread, sunshine in a window, the muted sounds of rain on a roof, the cry of a newborn babe, the sign of death, and the voice calling “goodnight”. Home, an island, a refuge, a haven of love.

You know my heart's cravin' that all my children finish high school, even college if I can live that long.

The house is hushed now, the hour is late, the night is still except for a whippoorwill that calls from the crabapple tree. In the kitchen, I hear the voices of my mother and father as they speak quiet private things to each other. Sleep flows through the house like a silent river. Soon our sleep will join in the flow of that quiet river and each of us will dream our separate dream.

I plant me a red and rosy bush,
I plant me a green willow tree.
To prove to all who come this way,
That she has forsaken me.

When I was young and I was gay,
I loved her long and well.
But the sum that loving has brought me,
No human touch can tell.
Oh, seen yond lonesome little turtle dove,
He is swinging on that yonder vine.
As I do mourn for mine,
Oh, hush you lest you break my heart.
For no one will I cry.
Ten thousand lovers have already parted,
So why not you and I.
So why not you and I.

… and she is about the prettiest thing I've ever laid eyes on. I suspect she is in trouble of some kind and I know Momma and Daddy think she has run away from home….

The Lone Ranger

I found a new word in the dictionary today: 'ambivalence'. That's me, wanting things to stay like they are forever here on Walton's Mountain, and yet wanting to be grown up and away, to find new things to see and write about. Ambivalence, it's a good word. The thing is, knowing the word doesn't make the two wants any easier to live with.

It sure is frustrating to have these people right in the front yard and not learn a thing about them. What I would like to do is to go down there and sit around the campfire with them.

Dear Mary Ellen, I'm thinking of you and how you are always dreaming of the world beyond Walton's Mountain. I can tell you that it is very different. People who barely know each other sleep in adjoining rooms. Each is locked in its own life, and seem lonely, The city at night is close to Camelot….” (he is interrupted, and then continues the letter) “The best news is that I may be getting a job tomorrow morning. I'll let you know later.

There is nothing so finely felt and so finely perceived as injustice.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.
As saved a wrench like me.
I was once lost, but now I'm found.
Was blind, but now I see.
Was grace that taught my heart to fear.
And praise my ears relief.
How precious it is that grace of years,
The hour I first believed.

The Farmer Takes a Wife

"Oh Beulah Land, Sweet Beulah Land, as on thy highest mount I stand. I look away across the sea where mountaintops prepare for me."

Mamma's in the kitchen baking apple pies. Daddy's in the sawmill cutting railroad ties. Grandpa and the children have their chores to do. While Grandma tries to iron out the ironing board blues.

(chorus) Oh, the ironing board blues, it's old and it's new. It's fast or it's slow, it's just whatever you choose. You don't need to be afraid to state your views. And tell the whole world that you've got the ironing board blues.

Grandma gets her rhythm rocking to and fro. Her feet tap in syncopation on the kitchen floor. The ironing board is squeaking on the one and the two. And you know that Grandma Walton is playing the ironing board blues.

(repeat chorus)

Mama's room has become the center of the house. Every day she talks with us, telling us of the hopes and dreams she has for each one of us.

Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was black as soot. And everywhere that Mary went, its sooty foot it put.

Easter is less than a week away. Spring is still not in sight. And Momma seems no closer to walking. Suppose this is the year when spring never comes. No green buds, no blossoms with the promise of fruit and harvest. Men must have shared these same doubts for thousands of years. Asked themselves what must we do to bring back spring? What can we offer You in exchange to an end to winter? The beginnings of new life, Momma strong and walking again. What can we do?

Oh, ye'll tak' the high road. An' I'll tak' the low road. And I'll be in Scotland afore ye. But me and my true love, we'll never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the O' Loch Lomon'

Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them.

Some people are drawn to oceans, and others to the shimmering sands of deserts. Others feel only at home on land that flows beside a river. My people were drawn to mountains, and there on Walton's Mountain we were to share the fun and excitement of growing up together, the boundless love of our mother and father and a daily exploration of many of the wonders that lie in the human heart!

And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring.

My Wild Irish Rose, The sweetest flower that grows.You may search everywhere, But none can compare, With my wild Irish Rose

Jack Armstrong

On top of old Smokey, All covered with snow. I lost my true lover, By courtin’ too slow. Courtin’s a pleasure, But partin’ is grief;

Our mountain in winter is something to see,
at times it is just like a person to me.
A giant in white all covered with snow,
it changes each day as the heavy winds blow.
And when I'm alone and I go for a walk,
it's almost as if that old mountain can talk.
It seems to say, "Welcome my wintery friend,
I was here at the beginning; I'll be here at the end."

I had never really thought about my mother and father as being anything but married to each other, and then today I met a man who under different circumstances might have been my father.

And she had been melancholy when she come into the orchard. But now she stood in the shower of while petals of the crabapple tree remembering another time, a lost love. And in that moment she realizes that everyone has a secret part in himself, a place where all one's dreams still live. And strengthened she walked away from the orchard to the place where she lives.

There was times on Waltons's Mountain so filled with contentment that I might sit in my room writing and not once be reminded that I was a part of a large and boisterous family. It was on such a day that Jim Bob took time out to watch the grass grow and Hobie Shank came back into our l ives. I wasn't to know much peace after Hobie's arrival.

I never regretted my brief fling as a man of business. When I am reminded from time to time of the lessons that Graham foster taught me, memory carry me back to that Depression time and the voices of my family. Amen.

It seems to me that my life is rushing past me at a furious rate. It doesn't seem to be any time to do all the tings I want to do. And there are so many books I have yet to read. And so many words in me that I have yet to get down on paper….

The world is a tragic place, people are pitiful, sad creatures but every now and then people have a noble spirit deep down inside.

But I'm not fine. Somebody is going to catch on soon. I'll tell them but it has to wait because tomorrow is just too important.

Oh my dear Lord, look down upon this family on Thanksgiving Day and we ask you to bless all of our dear friends assembled under this roof with the abundance that you have showed upon this family. And for the joy and love and caring for one another that all of us feel. And for most especially, dear Lord, that you have brought home to us our eldest boy safe and sound. Amen.

Several weeks were to pass before we were to know the decision of the scholarship committee. The announcement came by telegram. My name was on the list - my journey was about to begin - I had won the scholarship

I've been workin' on the railroad, All the live long day. I've been workin' on the railroad, Just to pass the time away. Don't you hear the whistle blowing? Rise up so early in the morn. Don't you hear the captain shouting "Dinah, blow your horn"?

Ellsworth's [John Brown's] body lies a mould'ring in the grave, Ellsworth's [John Brown's] body lies a mould'ring in the grave Ellsworth's [John Brown's] body lies a mould'ring in the grave, His soul is marching on! CHORUS Glory! Glory Hallelujah! Glory! Glory Hallelujah! Glory! Glory Hallelujah! His soul is soul is marching on.

Dear Momma it's your birthday, it's a special day for you. We hope your day is happy and your wishes all come true. We think that you're the greatest in every little way. That's why I sing this birthday song on this your special day.

I caught this morning morning's minion, kingdom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing, As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding Stirred for a bird,--the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

"I've been workin' on the railroad"

Welcome sweet springtime, We greet thee in song, Mummers of gladness, Fall on the ear.

It is a beginning of new possibilities – love, marriage, children – when the time is right and if that's what you want. But in any case it's a natural cycle, and it's filled with joys, sorrows, and responsibilities

"To our dear Grandmother, May your joys be as deep as the ocean, and your troubles as light as the clouds. From Elizabeth, Ben, Jim bob, and Mary Ellen."

"Mirakle Spring Water – Sure Cure for Rheumatism, Gowt, Liver Complaint, Lumbago, Night Sweats"

“When you're old you'll take comfort in knowing that the Mountain will endure long after you've turned to dust. The season will come and go, snow will fall, the land sleeps, the violets bloom, and the green leaves of spring come again. They grow for a summer and turn all their colors. And then the snow, and it goes on like this. It's the way of things.”

"I love mountain music, good old mountain music, played by a real hillbilly band"

Beautiful Dreamer

Blind Man's Bluff

AMARANTHA sweet and fair,
Ah, braid no more that shining hair!
As my curious hand or eye
Hovering round thee, let it fly!

Let it fly as unconfined
As its calm ravisher the wind,
Who hath left his darling, th' East,
To wanton o'er that spicy nest.

Every tress must be confest,
But neatly tangled at the best;
Like a clew of golden thread
Most excellently ravellèd.

Do not then wind up that light
In ribbands, and o'er cloud in night,
Like the Sun in 's early ray;
But shake your head, and scatter day!

Bye Bye Blackbird

The Sky is Falling

How do I love thee, let me count the ways.

"Heights of great man reached and kept, Were not attained in sudden flight, But while their companions slept, They were toiling upward in the night." -- I'll always remember you affectionately, Rose Mary Hunter.

What an exciting time to be alive; to be venturing out into the world; to begin an enormous journey. We the graduating class of 1934, encouraged by the words of our president Franklin Delano Roosevelt who said when he was inaugurated a year ago 'this great nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and prosper. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself'. This is a wonderful day, a day of hope and promise for me and my fellow students. A day without fear. New laws have been passed to eliminate child labor in factories, man's working hours have been shortened and no man can be paid less than the new minimum wage. It's been a long time since any banks have closed in this country. And truly our land is a land of progress and opportunity. As high school graduates we will be able to take full advantage of these opportunities. That we are high school graduates we owe to some very special people. Our fathers have put in hours of back-breaking labor to keep us in school. And I know in our house my mother went without in order that books could be bought for my schooling. But above these specifics they have given us their support, their guidance, and their love. And we are deeply grateful. There is someone else that we owe so very much. She has given generously of her time and her intelligence and of her love for learning. And it is with sadness that we leave Miss Rosemary Hunter; but with the promise that we will strive to maintain her high ideals as we come to this parting of our ways. This is a landmark that we will never forget, the day that we the graduating class of 1934 set out on this great adventure of our lives.

Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief! who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in. Say I'm weary, say I'm sad; Say that health and wealth have miss'd me; Say I'm growing old, but add-Jenny kiss'd me.

Two Years Before the Mast (And Twenty-four Years After)

Fibber McGee and Molly

• Too much static on the radio while trying to listen to "Fibber McGee and Molly"
• Radio show tried to be listened to by Zeb and Esther while at Townsend house

• The Five Foot Shelf
• The Caretakers

• s2/e23
• s3/e18

In a cavern, in a canyon Excavating for a mine Lived a miner, forty-niner And his daughter, Clementine Oh, my darling, oh, my darling Oh, my darling Clementine You are lost and gone forever Dreadful sorry, Clementine

On top of old Smokey, All covered with snow, I lost my true lover From courtin' too slow. From courtin' too slow, dear, From courtin' too slow, I lost my true lover From courtin' too slow.

Henry Walton
1845-1921
Belowed Husband
of Martha Corinne

There's an old spinning wheel in the parlor, Spinning dreams of the long, long ago. Spinning dreams of an old fashioned garden, And a maid with her old fashioned beau, Sometimes it seems that I can hear her in the twilight At the organ softly singing "Old Black Joe." There's an old spinning wheel in the parlor, Spinning dreams of the long, long a go.

It is as fitting for a man to build his own house, as it is for a bird to build its own nest

School days, school days, dear old golden rule days. Readin' and writin' and 'rithmatic, Taught to the tune of a hickory stick. You were my queen in calico, I was your bashful, barefoot beau.

Work when the night is coming. Work through the morning hours. Work while the dew is sparkling

You Can't Get There From Here

I want to hear his wife's side of the story

As Time Goes By

Baby Face (You've Got the Cutest Little Baby Face)

California Here We Come

Oh don't you remember sweet Betsy from Pike, Who crossed the wide prairie with her lover Ike, With two yoke of oxen, a big yellow dog, A tall Shangai rooster, and one spotted hog?

Me and my wife live all alone In a little log hut we call our own; She loves gin and I love rum, And don't we have a lot of fun!
Ha, ha, ha, you and me, Little brown jug, don't I love thee! Ha, ha, ha, you and me, Little brown jug, don't I love thee!

VERSE 1
Once I was single, then O then Once I was single, then Once I was single, my pockets did jingle An' I wish I were single again

Skip to My Lou

At night across Virginia, across the old fought-upon earth, there comes a sweet darkness that seeps down from the mountains, and laden with the scent of dogwood, flows across the hills and into the valleys.

On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by

Algernon. Cecily! [Embraces her.] At last!
Jack. Gwendolen! [Embraces her.] At last!
Lady Bracknell. My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality.
Jack. On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I've now realized for the first time in my life the vital Importance of Being Earnest.

The spirits of each member of the family were subdued by the absence of the father. The man had been gone four days, but the boy felt that an eternity had passed. His anxiety had deepened by the fact that he was failing one of his courses. And he had convinced himself that without his father's guidance he might end his college career all together.

Clam chowder and apple fritters

The Lone Ranger

The Fox Radio Theatre

Tenting tonight, tenting tonight

Happy Birthday to You

To the Wild Rose

The smile of a happy woman is better than ten thousand words

Two may talk, and one may hear. But, three may not take part in the conversation of the most sincere and searching kind

Everything will happen to everybody if there is enough time

Alfred, Lord Tenneson

I am dreaming Dear of you, day by day
Dreaming when the skies are blue, When they're gray;
When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams,
In a land of love, it seems, Just with you.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.
Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.

Her heart was broken to think of him gone. And she too died soon after to join her loved one. This very day you can stand on the hill where the sound of her singing is echoing still.

There was a fair maiden lived over the hill in a little log cabin that's standing there still. And each morning she'd rise with the coming of dawn, and all through the valley you could hear her sweet song. In the spring there came courting a farmer's young son. Soon they were married, in name joined as one, but her young man was called to serve his country so he joined in the ranks under Robert E. Lee. The letter that came one cold winter's day told how he'd died as a hero in gray. But her poor heart was broken to think of him gone and she, too, died soon after to join her loved one. And to this very day you can stand on the hill where the sound of her singing is echoing still.

If ever I had to describe my father I would have to start with his hands: What they do. The toil they are engaged in during the day is reflected in them and the skills in which they work has shaped them in a different manner than I'm sure a stonecutter's hands would have been shaped.

Even as a young woman she was always addressed as Miss Charlotte. And it was not as much out of respect but rather from a sense of her obvious destiny. Her friends whispered how unfortunate it was that Miss Charlotte had been born to be a spinster. Miss Charlotte had no such image of herself. She dreamt of a suitor who would love her and with whom she would love in return.

Although it was totally imaginary, she could see his face clearly. She knew the curve of his lips, the slant of his nose, each wave of his corn-colored hair. He had been more fantasy than flesh from the very beginning. And as the years past the unreal became real.

Miss Charlotte Ransom's family was and old and respected one in the town. Even as a young woman she was known and addressed as Miss Charlotte. And it was not as much out of respect but rather from a sense of her obvious destiny. Her friends whispered how unfortunate it was that Miss Charlotte had been born as a spinster. She walked from quiet room to quiet room and the only sounds that came to her was the ticking of clocks and the beating of her own heart, and the realization that she would be alone—loveless—for the rest of her life crowded into her mind. She felt the rise of panic. She stood trembling at the window that overlooked the…(pause)…. She stood trembling at the window that overlooked a maple tree, and there came to her a memory of a day when she had met someone there. He was a young university student, handsome and debonair. And he and Miss Charlotte had loved one another from the moment they first met. As she stood then at the window, in memory, she once again was the young woman she had once been, while he kissed her amidst the swirling, gold autumn leaves. Cruel fate was to stand between their union, but she knew that wherever he traveled he cherished his memory of her as she cherished him. And some day in the future they would be together again.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams, Of the beautiful Annebel Lee

When I saw you on the corner,
I just had to say,
Ohhh, Ohhh, will you be mine?
I've never had nobody,
that could make me feel this way,
Ohhh, Ohhh, will you be mine?


I never felt before the way I feel right now,
What's more I have to make my feelings clear,
And tell you that I love you dear.
I never knew somebody who could make me feel like you do
Ohhh, Ohhh, will you be mine?


I never felt before the way I feel right now,
What's more I have to make my feelings clear,
And tell you that I love you dear.
You know I've loved you from the start,
the shiny arrow went through my heart
Ohhh, Ohhh, will you be mine?
Ohhh, Ohhh, will you be mine?
Ohhh, Ohhh, will you be mine?

Who's that little chatterbox?
The one with pretty auburn locks?
Cute little she
It's Little Orphan Annie

Summer Days and Other Stories

My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends, It gives a lovely light!

Your touch has words that speak to me. Its syllables speak to me. and They say that beneath this tree, we were meant to meet.

When people asked Ned Stratten if he was glad to be home again he always smiled broadly and answered, 'You betcha!' Then, the one who questioned him would nod as if he had gotten the answer he expected and go away happy. But the minute Ned was alone again he stopped grinning for it wasn't true. Will all his heart he longed to be back at sea. The sea was his home now. He was a stranger in this town that he had grown up, married, ….

These rings are circles with no ends. They have not, and will not tarnish because they are of a precious metal signifying your love that is precious and untarnishable. John, do you continue to keep Olivia your lawfully wedded wife, to continue to love her, to comfort her, to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others as long as you both shall live. Olivia, do you continue to…

The patrolman erupted in a volcanic fury

Buffalo Gals, won't you come out tonight,
Come out tonight, come out tonight.
Buffalo Gals, won't you come out tonight
And dance by the light of the moon.

Dust Thou Art, and Unto Dust Shalt Thou Return.
And God saw that the wickedness of Man
And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth
Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord

My favorite person is parts of a lot of people. If you put them together, they'd be swell. Orville and Wilbur Wright: on account of the airplane. Grandpa: the way he laughs and makes you laugh. John-Boy is a good big brother when he doesn't treat me like a little brother. Momma's pretty and nice, mostly when she's just being a momma. And Daddy, who you can go to and he always gives an answer.

Beautiful dreamer,
Wake unto me
Starlight and dewdrops
Are awaiting thee.

Faith of our fathers living still
In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword;
O how our hearts beat high with joy
When e're we hear that glorious word!
Faith of our fathers holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death.

Today is Sunday, and once again we are privileged to come together in the warmth and fellowship of the house of our Lord. I think this morning all of our thoughts are with our Reverend Fordwick and his bride Rosemary as they start their new life together. And I'm sure our prayers are with them also that their life can be a happy one.
What does a young man know? And, how does a young man learn? I don't have to remind you all that I'm not a minister. And to many of you, what I have to say this morning will not sound like a real sermon. But Rev. Fordwick asked me to be here in his absence and to speak to you and I am going to try. While I was preparing to speak to you this week I learned things I did not know before. And I was reminded of some things that I had forgotten or I at least misplaced for a time. I would like to share these things with you. I learned some of the many different ways that people have of worshipping their God. And I think I learned that everybody in his own way has a different way. Now I don't know the Bible as well as most of you and I'm sure that all of you in here can quote me with chapter and verse to prove your belief, which I might not be able to do. But, I know that if we really looked into it we would find out each of your beliefs, like people are different from everybody else.
Now, I'm a college man and I tend to read a lot and to look for books that the answers are going to be found in books. So I went to the college and I checked out a lot of big, heavy books. I looked through them and I found a lot of answers. I didn't find "the" answer. I also found an answer in an afternoon walk with my Grandfather. For he told me that God is everywhere and all we have to do is just to acknowledge and to listen. I spoke with my Grandmother who knows her gospel. And she knows the right of it and she knows the wrong of it in her own special way. She is a fine woman. I didn't have much of a change to talk with my mother because she was busy herself and she had things of her own to do. But, I watched her and I found out that the Lord guides her in her footsteps in ways that are unique to her. And that makes her different from everybody. Whether it's the way she tends a sick baby or the way she tends class at school.
This week I looked over the shoulder of my younger brother and I saw these words that he wrote about our father, "You can always go to him and ask and get an answer". Now you all know our father, John Walton. You don't necessarily know him from seeing him in church every Sunday morning. But let me tell you that what Jim Bob said is right. You can always go to him and get an answer. He's always there for us. The special way of being with his family and giving them his answers, he also has a special way of being with his God and getting answers from his god.
We are blessed by our families and by our loving friends that help us and give us support. And we can be examples to each other and nourish each other, and help each other, in spite of our differences and many times because of them. Just as my earthly father is always with his family, so our Father in heaven is always with his family, which embraces all of mankind. And it seems to me that I've learned this week that our God must be very great indeed to encompass so many different kinds of feelings and so many different kinds of people in his everlasting love.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see

Joan of Arc

Ole Shep he has gone where the good doggies go
and no more with Ole Shep will I roam
And if dogs have a heaven there is one thing I know
Ole Shep has a wonderful home.

37:19
And they said one to another, Behold, this dreamer cometh.
37:20
Come now therefore, and let us slay him, and cast him into some pit, and we will say, Some evil beast hath devoured him: and we shall see what will become of his dreams.

Shall we gather at the river,
Where bright angel feet have trod,
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
Refrain
Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river;
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.

Tattoo Blues

Beware of all new enterprises requiring new clothes.
-and-
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.

Wedding bells will ring so merrily,
Ev'ry tear will be a memory.
So wait and pray each night for me,
Till we meet again.
Tho' goodbye means the birth of a tear drop,
Hello means the birth of a smile.
And the smile will erase the tear blighting trace,
When we meet in the after awhile.

How can I become a great writer if I don't even know how to spell. Xenophobia. It took me quite awhile to find the word in the dictionary since I never expected it to start with an “x”. It's also taking me awhile to get used to the fact that Grandma has a low opinion of a man I respect very much. And Grandpa seems reluctant for Mr. Sims to explore the Baldwin history. I believe like Porter Sims that we must explore deeply into life and write honestly of what is discovered.

In the Battle of Rockfish Creek during the War Between the States a gallant, young confederate officer, Captain Matthew Baldwin, later a distinguished Virginia judge, performed a most heroic and selfish deed that nearly brought him disgrace. Recuperating at home from his own serious battle wounds, Captain Baldwin made his way to the nearby battlefield to help the wounded. He brought them back to his house, both confederate and union forces. Having been seen helping union soldiers the Captain was charged with treason. However, many of the survivors from both the confederate and union wrote letters thanking him for what he had done. These letters were to have been used as evidence on his behalf, but the war ended. The trial, which would have undoubtedly exonerated him, was never held. Perhaps Captain Baldwin's humanistic efforts symbolized the deeper wounds the nation had suffered. His stately home and proud daughters hold honored positions in the community.

In the distance flowing over the pine trees from the swamp came the many-voiced choir of frogs. Once only came the saddest sound in the world, the single unanswered voice of the whippoorwill, but there was no one to hear it, for everyone in the house was asleep.

I have never encountered a woman like Bobby Strom before. From the first moment I saw her I found her tantalizing and romantic, even chilling. But what Bobby has told me abut herself has made me think about my own feelings for her. And I now realize that they may not have been of the most noble type. I feel embarrassed and guilty when I think about how I might have treated her. From here on I want to put these feelings behind me, and be her friend and truly help her.

Much is going on here. Mary Ellen and Erin are in love with the same young man. Both girls are behaving irrationally which I suppose goes with being in love at such a tender age. But I hope this can be resolved without either of them being hurt. I'm also concerned about Momma and suppose she may be having another baby.

I'm looking over a four-leaf clover That I overlooked before. One leaf is sunshine, the second is rain, Third is the roses that grow in the lane. No need explaining, the one remaining Is somebody I adore. I'm looking over a four-leaf clover That I overlooked before .

...happily I have not suffered the loss of a loved one first hand. Seth Turner's death deeply affected me but at least Seth lived to the fullest of those days he had remaining and he left a recorder to Jason as a memento of his life. But Bob Hill seems to have bequeathed little except memories of kite flying and a widow who cannot seem to come to terms with a bewildering number of emotions struggling for order in her mind.

Olivia's presence has caused me to make a monstrous discovery about myself. There is a part of me that stands aside from the experience and coldly and dispassionately observes. I suppose it is the writer in me. Somehow the discovery is both delightful and terrifying.

I look forward to seeing A.J. Covington again. I guess he's found the big story he was always looking for. My feeling, of course, always was that A.J. himself was the big story. Perhaps he's made that discovery for himself. Alot of people have influenced my writing, but it was A.J. Covington who first taught me to write about what is memorable and significant in the lives of ordinary people.

Charlie McCarthy and Edgara Bergen

There is a lot of activity around here today. Daddy and I are talking some supplies up to the Basham's. Miss Nora is making her rounds up in the hills, so Mary Ellen is alone up there taking care of Mrs. Basham. I will stay up here and help in whatever way I can.

A son is a son until he takes a wife. A daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life.

Thank you o' Lord for thy care and for watching over us and guiding us so we can all be together again. And thank you for the blessing of this table. Amen.

We thank you for the food on the table and for making today special in many ways. Mrs. Fordwick didn't call on me on spelling for once. Saw an airplane after school, I think it was a De Havaline biplane, but it might have been just an old Gennie

Gangbusters

Amos 'n Andy

• Jason tells his mother that the show will soon be on the radio s1/e19
• Grandpa doesn't like the idea of missing Amos 'n Andy when the radio's vacuum tube burns out s4/e17

It sure is frustrating to have these people right in the front yard and not learn a thing about them. What I would like to do is to go down there and sit around the campfire with them

• John-Boy ponders about the gypsies camped in the front yard

Adventure magazine

It's useless. I've tried and tried to rewrite the first page of my novel; the first paragraph, the first sentence. It always comes out the same: flat, empty. I feel as if there was a band of steel twisted, tied inside, of me shutting off the flow of words and feelings. Maybe that steel band is my guilt about the fire, me being the cause. Somehow, I have to find an answer to that feeling, somehow….

The dull and heat laden days of August, the endless leaden dog days vanished in a rain storm, and September dawned bright and sparkling and sunny. The foliage became to turn lemon yellow, watermelon red, russet, and gold and bronze, the woods were afire with color but clean and chilled by an autumn wind. And the fever which had been in the boy's brain was swept away by the cleansing wind and every day laid before him with such beckoning and promise of adventure that his heart would nearly explode with the wonder of it all.

Fragility, thy name is woman.

What man can pretend to know the riddle of a woman's mind?

I like Blue Ridge Bluing and use it in my wash every Monday. I'm glad that Monday follows Sunday because cleanliness is next to godliness.

I like Blue Ridge Bluing because it does what it is suppose to do, and not many things to that these days.

De Camptown ladies sing this song, Doo-da, Doo-da De Camptown racetrack's two miles long Oh, de doo-da day. Chorus: G'wine to run all night G'wine to run all day I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag Somebody bet on the gray.

Voices hum, crooning over Moonlight Bay, Banjos strum, tuning while the moon beams play. All alone, unknown they find me, memories like these remind me Of the girl I left behind me, down on Moonlight bay. Chorus: We were sailing along on Moonlight Bay, We could hear the voices ringing, they seemed to say "You have stolen her heart, now don't go 'way!" As we sang Love's Old Sweet Song, on Moonlight Bay.

VERSE 1 In th skies, th bright stars glitter On th bank, th pale moon shone An' t'was from Aunt Dinhas quilting party I was see-ing Nellie home VERSE 2 I was see-ing Nellie home I was see-ing Nellie home An' t'was from Aunt Dinhas quilting party I was see-ing Nellie home

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 lay without proper orientation to the Sun we will molder and decay. 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 in 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 someday be a mantle in their own home, or perhaps in the house down the street, or it may become 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.

Carry me back to old Virginia, There's where the cotton and the corn and taters grow, There's where the birds warble sweet in the springtime, There's where this old darkey's heart am long'd to go, There's where I labored so hard for old massa, Day after day in the field of yellow corn, No place on earth do I love more sincerely Than old Virginia, the state where I was born.
CHORUS: Carry me back to old Virginia, There's where the cotton and the corn and taters grow, There's where the birds warble sweet in the springtime, There's where this old darkey's heart am long'd to go.

I wish I was a apple hangin' in a tree And everytime my sweetheart passed She'd take a bite of me
Get along home, home, Cindy Get along home, home, Cindy Get along home, home, Cindy I'll marry you sometime

We all grow old and die, 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.

After Thanksgiving the winter turned severe. Snow fell all through Christmas and New Year blotting out the horizon. Inside the house the family felt isolated as if on a small, snug island of warmth and light. The younger children grew restless and could not wait for the storm to end. For they knew...

One Hundred Men and a Girl

So, from her point of view I'm a coward. I don't have to accept her definition. I'm a fool to be touched by it for one minute. Who is Selena Linville to tell me what I am and what I should be: philosopher, saint, an understanding and caring friend? None of the above. She's spoiled, selfish, limited. And it is ridiculous to waste one second caring what she thinks of me .... I care.

The search for the truth by which the good man never gets harmed

Roll Out the Barrel
My Darlin' Clementine
Hoe-Down
Ironing Board Blues

Nobody's Darlin' But Mine

Beautiful Dreamer

Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus

Shall We Gather at the River?

Captains Courageous

Hitler: A Fanatic's Rise to Power

Faith of Our Fathers

In the beginning God created heaven and earth, and the earth was without form. And void and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God spoke, "Let there be light.

Into the peaceful, unchanging pattern of the days, the presence of the stranger moved like a cloud casting a shadow of fear across the village. The people drew away from each other, and not knowing when or from where the menace might appear, they….

I’ll go home and get my panties, You go home and get your scanties, And away we’ll go; Mm! Off we’re gonna shuffle, Shuffle off to Buffalo.

Oh! the lady in red, the fellows are crazy For the lady in red.

When shadows fall and trees whisper day is ending,
My thoughts are ever wending Home.
When crickets call, my heart is forever yearning,
Once more to be returning Home.
When the hills conceal the setting sun,
Stars begin a peeping one by one.
Night covers all and, though fortune my forsake me,
Sweet dreams will ever take me Home.

I've traveled this country all over,
And now to the next I will go,
I know that good quarters await me,
To welcome Old Rosin the Beau.
To welcome Old Rosin the Beau,
To welcome Old Rosin the Beau,
I know that good quarters await me,
To welcome Old Rosin the Beau.

When I'm dead and laid out on the counter
A voice you will hear from below
Saying "Send down a hogshead of whiskey
To drink to Old Rosin the Beau."
To drink to Old Rosin the Beau
To drink to Old Rosin the Beau
Saying "Send down a hogshead of whiskey
To drink to Old Rosin the Beau."

Elizabeth: John-Boy, were you nervous on television?
John-Boy: Not once I got started.
Elizabeth: Maybe you'll have your own television show one day?
John-Boy: Um, I'd like that, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: What would you call it?
John-Boy: I don't know, since I write best about this family, I guess I'd call it The Waltons. Goodnight Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Goodnight John-Boy.