F is for Fifty Years Later

"I first started Waltoning about ten years ago when I was in my late 40s," answered the round-faced blonde woman who had a few minutes earlier admitted us to the six-room farm house built in 1915

After she had collected our ten dollar admission fee and given us her introductory spiel, we were free to wander the house. "I had guests here last night," she shrugged. "I have to clean! But do let me know if you have any questions."

It was then that I asked her how she had come to own this house on Schuyler Mountain where Earl Hamner, Jr. and his seven brothers and sisters had grown up. The place was our last stop of three on a relatively bustling crossroads in the middle of not much else. We had already been to the Walton's Mountain Museum and also the general store, but this was the actual house where the family who inspired The Waltons had lived until 1990.

Since it was a mere 20 minutes off the highway, I thought visiting this landmark on our way home from Lynchburg was a no-brainer, and I only questioned my resolve slightly when the waitress at breakfast, a delightful young woman in her early 20s who was friendly enough to ask about our plans for the day, had never heard of our destination (never mind the TV show!) despite the fact it was less than an hour away. The rest of the graduation group was also less than enthusiastic when we shared our plans with them before our farewells. "That sounds like a classic Tracey plan!" one of them actually said. 

"We'll report back and let you know if it's worth the detour!" I replied cheerfully.

And my optimism never flagged until we were inside the museum and looking at photocopied photos of the actors and articles about the show. A 30 minute, poor quality video from the late 90s did nothing for my enthusiasm, and we moved quickly through the iffy replicas of the set (John Boy's room, the living room, the kitchen, the Baldwin sisters' parlor, and Ike's store, which was also the gift shop) stopping briefly at the photos of the real Hamners. Our next stop was a general store with a bored clerk and very little inventory, heavy on tin Christmas ornaments and mason jar accessories. 

My hopes were not high as we climbed the steps onto the front porch of the tiny white national historic landmark, but seeing the actual house that this family of 10 had lived in during the depression and beyond seemed as if it might be a little more meaningful than the other two stops. And it was and it wasn't. The house was surprisingly roomy, given its appearance. There was a big open kitchen, a large living room, 2 bedrooms downstairs (one that had been converted to a full bath, and two upstairs, one for the boys and one for the girls. 

In the end, I didn't regret stopping, but I can't recommend it either. The whole place is as faded as the photos in the museum. The TV show was a cultural phenomenon when it first aired 50 yers ago, but memories of it are dimming as the folks who watched it age. I do believe the site could be reimagined as a history of the depression in rural Virginia, generalizing the experience and capitalizing on the show, but unless a re-visioning happens (and is funded)? I can't see how the place can be around for very much longer.

Life Lesson: Evolve or die.