I finally realized I didn’t have to move it at all. I can finally accept my mountain and where I am today, look back and learn from the people I loved and the lessons I learned traveling its many paths. I returned to myself and the valuable lessons of my life. I now embrace every path I took and myself in the process.
I am not perfect and I work daily to accept myself as a whole person who is a result of the combined experiences, good and bad.
When I was in my early twenties and first went to therapy, I believed I would be healed when all my emotions were gone and I didn’t cry anymore. I thought that would be success. Now I know it’s not about the emotions and challenges, but how I deal with them. I’ve learned about the storms of my emotions and how to avoid stepping into them. And that it is a daily, moment-to-moment process without any expectations of perfection attached. The long journey up the mountain, around and down it, returned me to my roots and what was inside me all along. I found the strength of my own inner Mary/Erin and allowed her to guide me. I listen to her now, instead of trying to change her. I love my inner Hog Body and my outer one. I work on accepting them both. Some days, the old voices rear their heads, but most of the time, I appreciate the journey that led me to my mountain.
Despite the disappointments I have felt personally and professionally, I have learned to trust people—even doctors sometimes—because I have learned to trust myself. I believe in people, the brotherhood of mankind. I still believe in the God-ness in people, that they and I will do the right thing if given a chance.
Through my own mountains and molehills, I finally found my inner strength. I learned to “Re-Me,” an attitude I’ve incorporated into the self-esteem and body image workshops for women and girls that I conduct around the country.
I worked long and hard to redefine how I saw myself and how I presented myself to the world around me. It’s been incredibly cathartic and healing for me to use my own experiences to teach others the repercussions of “negative branding.”
When I was young, there were virtually no resources for girls like me who were uncomfortable in their own skin. I struggled alone and was ashamed. In my workshops, I can share my lessons. Our thoughts and images do affect our lives in every moment. If our choices about ourselves are negative, that’s what everyone else sees and experiences. However, I discovered if we each begin with a more positive self-image, we then project that to the rest of the world. Once that new “branding” happens, we’re less likely to project or be perceived in a negative way. I see women change their brand and change their lives. They receive more positive feedback, interact more positively with themselves, and have a healthier outlook on life.
THE COLORS OF THE WIND
Indulge me while we go back to Walton’s Mountain for a few more memories, and I promise you’ll enjoy the trip. In the fall of 1992, The Walton’s Mountain Community Center opened in Earl Hamner’s hometown of Schuyler, Virginia. All the cast, Earl, his family, and the writers and producers gathered for the amazing event organized by Woody Greenberg. It was huge. This small, two-lane town was bursting at the seams that weekend. Over six thousand fans came out to pay tribute to Earl, the Hamner family, and the show. I heard they had to turn people away from the overcrowded town.
I was especially excited to meet the “real” Erin, Audrey Hamner, and see the other counterparts, the real-life people on whom our characters had been based. It was fun to see Elizabeth and Jason’s children. We talked and compared notes, such a rich history of family.
During the opening ceremony, a woman came forward and committed to starting an official Walton fan club. Carolyn Grinnell didn’t know what she was getting herself into that day, but she started what is still the Walton’s International Fan Club. It continues to grow and holds annual meetings, usually on alternating coasts. With our busy schedules, we cannot all make the trip every year, but whenever we can, we enjoy going back to Walton’s Mountain. The cast is still so close that when we are together, we have a blast. So gathering us all up to visit was also fun for our kids, who became like cousins.
My mother donated her wedding dress to the center’s memorabilia exhibit. They kept it on display for a few years, with a photo of my mom in the dress the day she married my dad, next to one of me wearing it as Erin.
The community center had brought us back to Schuyler to help raise funds for the center. It would be the first of many trips Sydnee and I looked forward to taking, usually in the autumn, my favorite time of the year, and it is especially spectacular in Virginia. Sydnee loved to collect the beautiful fall leaves and bring a bit of what she called “Jaginya” home with her to California. One year when Disney’s Pocahontas had come out, she told me, “I have to go get my colors of the wind, Mommy.”
Signing autographs all day was a lot of work, but we were honored so many people still loved the show and had an interest in connecting to our “family.” Fan club members came from as far away as the U.K. to spend some time on the “real” mountain where it all began. Over the years, we have gotten to know many of them and their own families. We now consider them our dear friends and visit with them off the mountain, too.
As you know, I had a lot of trouble with allergies when I was sick. I’ve told you about my animal allergies, which did not bode well for Sydnee getting the dog she dreamed of having. We had fish, red-eared sliders (turtles), and a few rats, but no dog for Syd. (Besides, I was never a big animal lover myself; perhaps the bone-crunching cow and the runaway mule had something to do with it.)
Because Sydnee has her own health challenges, she often felt like an outsider, different from everyone else. I felt she needed something to love her unconditionally, something that was hers, with no judgment or pressures on her otherwise tough days. We started researching hypoallergenic dogs. Poodles were high on the list; yet I couldn’t really see myself as a poodle person. We put our names on a bichon frise rescue list, but got no calls. Then we tried a rescue shelter. Sydnee fell in love with a little dog, but they decided she would “love the dog too much” and rejected us for adoption. Syd was devastated. I was livid these people let her bond with this little dog, let me put in a doggie door, came to inspect our home, and then said no.
As the Universe always works wonders when we allow it to, Scott Vestal, one of the fan club members who had become like family to us, wrote and asked if Sydnee wanted a dog. If so, he’d like to give her a poodle. What? Manna from heaven? Soon, our toy poodle, Runtie Schuyler Vestal, was born, and Sydnee was a happy girl. I am now not only a poodle person, I am a dog person. I love that dog like I never thought I would. He watched over me while I was sick and slept on my lap while I wrote this book. He taught me to open up and try love again.
We not only found new friends and became dog lovers, the fan club gave me another special relationship that filled a particular hole in my life. One night, we were all sitting around after a reunion dinner and I felt a wave of nostalgia. I shared with them how much I missed my dad, who had been gone for several years. I knew he would have loved these Walton reunions.
On the spot, Charlie and Marlene Kruger wrapped their arms and hearts around me, and Charlie and Marlene “adopted” me and Sydnee.
Recently I shared with Dad’s brother, my uncle Steve, how much I missed my parents. He encouraged me to talk to them to keep them close. I have found this worked, and I even felt they helped guide the process of this book. I finally realized I didn’t need to keep dancing; I had my dad’s love and approval all along.
When Sydnee was little, she played my daughter in one of the reunion specials. She didn’t know the difference between the show, the reunions, the Hamners, and the fans—everyone blended together as one big family to her. When we were headed to Virginia, she’d say hopefully, “Mommy, we’re going to see the Waltons, right?”
She was right. We are all the Waltons, really. The “Walton Way,” as the fan club calls it. The caring sense of community, family, and support for each other is something we all share, and it come
s from the feelings Earl created from that mountain and that live in us still. Even though we stopped shooting over thirty years ago, The Waltons continues to touch my life—and the world’s hearts—daily.
I believe the closing voiceover from the episode A Wedding on Walton’s Mountain, narrated by Earl in his beautiful Virginia lilt, reflects the poignancy and mountain strength of the bond between all the families who were brought together by the show, and is a fitting end to this book:
“My sister Erin’s wedding is as clear in my memory as it is in my mother’s, although neither of us was there. And that fact has caused me to marvel many times at the power of the human heart over mere time and space. There was a special bond of love in our family, which brought us to that small church…that’s as strong today as it was then.”
My wish for you is to appreciate every lesson, and know you have the strength to climb your own mountain. May you enjoy every rock and difficult step, and remember you can always just sit and enjoy the view.
A Special Note from Beverly Nault
MY VISIT TO THE MOUNTAIN
Along with the rest of America, I watched The Waltons and wondered what it was like growing up in that familiar clapboard home, its screen door bursting open to reveal three generations living under the same roof. The mountain family, the tree house, lumber mill, old-timey cars, homespun clothes, and gentle story lines that taught values and morals seemed far removed from my own home in 1970s Texas suburbia. I wondered what it was like to be one of those actor-type kids who might as well have been living on a different planet: Hollywood seemed so remote, so glamorous. Except for glimpses of them in teen magazines and celebrity appearances on TV, I couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to be Jon, Judy, Mary, Eric, David, or Kami.
While those kids grew up, so did I. Flash forward: My husband Gary’s job brought us to Southern California in 1997. At the time, we homeschooled our two children, Lindsay and Evan. One of the first units we studied was the Great Depression. Because it was so true to the era and cultural experiences, I incorporated reruns of The Waltons as part of the curriculum. We were all drawn into the excellent stories, authentic settings, and unparalleled acting by the cast, who truly seemed to love and care about each other.
With the flexibility in homeschooling and their interest in entertainment, Lindsay and Evan began working as paid extras on television, commercial, and movie sets. Evan, with his blond hair and blue eyes, was often “picture picked,” which means he was chosen by directors needing a certain look. He’d also landed a modeling job, and was showing promise as an actor on the set. Chosen for many up-close scenes, he logged enough jobs and became a “force,” which means his paychecks would go directly to pay AFTRA union dues until he satisfied the fee. He also met the SAG minimum, qualifying him to join. In the summer of 2003, we decided it was time to find a coach to help him take the next step.
We learned Mary McDonough taught acting and we arranged for an audition. We were excited to meet Mary, and even though we’d rubbed elbows with many “names” on sets, we weren’t sure what to expect from such a well-known actor.
Immediately Mary put us at ease. She interviewed Evan, agreed to take him on as a private student, and for many months, she taught him how to access a character, interpret lines in a cold read (for auditioning), and imparted as much of her vast knowledge as she could. I imagine it was like drinking from a fire hose for him, she has so much experience in the craft.
Mary shared some of her stories, what her life had been like on The Waltons, and what she had been doing since the show ended production. The more I heard, the more fascinated I became with what made this interesting woman tick.
While working with her, Evan signed with a commercial agent and began landing lead roles in community theater. See, I told you she’s a good teacher. He enjoyed the biz, but he decided to attend college full-time. When he graduated high school, he no longer auditioned in Hollywood.
With Evan and Lindsay launched, I now had the chance to pursue my own dream: to write for the general market. An assignment in a writing course challenged me to come up with a book-length nonfiction project.
The first and only idea I thought of was Mary’s story. I shot off an e-mail and wondered if I would even hear from her. After several weeks passed, I assumed she thought I was a kook for asking. But then I got an e-mail. She apologized that it had taken her so long to reply and explained that she’d been at a speaking engagement. She said the only thing they told her was missing from her presentation was the opportunity for attendees to buy her book. (She’s also a dynamic speaker. If you ever have the opportunity, go hear her.) So we began to talk about the project.
Mary might say it was the Universe; I felt it was God; and I know you will agree, the decision to write Mary’s story was inspired. I assure you, she is as warm, transparent, funny, thoughtful, genuine, and beautiful as her onscreen persona. She tackled the book with the same zeal for excellence she has for every role and project. We are all blessed she agreed to share these stories, thoughts, anecdotes, fond and sometimes painful memories of growing up a child celebrity in a fascinating time in a culture few people have the opportunity to experience.
I’m proud to have had the privilege of writing this book with Mary, to go on the journey with her back to Walton’s Mountain and beyond, to be warmly welcomed by the other members of the cast family, as well as the magnificently talented Earl Hamner, Erin’s real-life model, the lovely Audrey Hamner, and to join the many fans, old and new, who wouldn’t have it any other way but the “Walton Way.”
Mountain Blessings,
Beverly Nault
BEVERLY’S ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Without many people supporting us, this project may never have made it into print. My mom, Barbara, always told me I could achieve whatever the Lord set on my heart. My sister, Brenda, read the manuscript, edited it, and prayed for us. To my kids: Evan, if it wasn’t for you, Mary and I might never have met. Lindsay, your never-give-up approach to life inspired me more than you’ll ever know. Mary Jo Nault, you cheered us on. And to my husband, Gary, my sweetheart and best friend, you never doubted that we would make this dream come true.
My mentor through the Christian Writers Guild, Kathy Tyers, your quiet encouragement, gentle instruction, and Christian friendship lifted my skills, faith, and belief in myself. I’ll never forget the monthly sessions at the Temecula Critique Group led by Rebecca Farnbach. Also thanks to Ashley Ludwig, Dona Watson, Joanne Bischof, Dan and Denise Harmer, Lynn Donovan, Fred Tingler, Dave Henkel, and Jackie Harts. Elaine Klonicki, Mary and I appreciate your advice and direction as well.
To the other Walton cast members and Earl Hamner, thanks for your insight and support. To all The Waltons fans, thanks for keeping us going when we might have given up without your constant reminders you were out there. Kevin Brown, thanks for letting me work on this at my desk when things were slow. Really, they were! Don, thanks for sharing Mary with me all those long hours. I know you lifted her spirits when things were tough.
And a special word to Mary. I’ll forever appreciate your faith that I was the person with whom to take the journey. You accepted my nudges, my ideas, and my probes into the depths of your hidden places. Without your dedication, your incredible instinct and creative talent, these compelling memories wouldn’t have the same transparency and honesty. I’ll never forget the laughter and tears we shared, our Monday morning phone chats, standing in the rain discussing agents and editors, meetings over breakfast and lunch, the chills I felt when you first read “our baby” to the fans. Here’s to all the peaks and valleys we shoved this boulder up, down, and across. My writer-sister and dear friend, thank you for not only allowing me to be a tiny part of the legacy of The Waltons, but to labor alongside you during this incredible journey on, around, and up to the peak of “Mary’s Mountain.”
God Bless,
Beverly Nault
“I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you ca
n say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”
—Matthew 17:20
Photo Insert
In 1961, I joined my brothers and added to the family. My mom was always so pretty. She worked hard to make sure all of us were well-dressed for family photos. (Author’s personal collection)
Mom and Dad on their way to Hawaii in 1967. They look so happy to me. (Author’s personal collection)
With the TV Guide. It was meant to be! (Author’s personal collection)
With two of my favorite people, my brothers Michael and John, in 1963. (Author’s personal collection)
Me as a toddler. (Author’s personal collection)
I loved this red velvet dress. It looks like a future Walton pinafore. (Author’s personal collection)
First grade photo. Nice bangs! (Author’s personal collection)
The beginning of ballet recitals. I was a marionette that cut away from her strings for a solo. Hmmm, a sign of things to come? The glue used to paste on those pink sequins burned my skin. Early performance trials, ha ha. (Author’s personal collection)
Daddy’s girl at her First Holy Communion. (Author’s personal collection)
The Homecoming cast. Patricia Neal and Andrew Dugan played the parents. (CBS)
Lessons from the Mountain Page 27