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  LESSONS FROM THE MOUNTAIN

  LESSONS FROM THE MOUNTAIN

  What I Learned From Erin Walton

  MARY McDONOUGH

  For anyone who has felt like they were not enough.

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people to thank for this book. First and foremost, my parents, for providing a strong foundation and teaching me to climb. To my brothers, who have stood by me through great difficulties and our biggest laughs. I love you and appreciate the men you have become. Mom, Dad…don’t worry, we made it.

  To Beverly Nault, without whom this book might never have happened. She does all things writing that I don’t do, or don’t like to do. Her dedication and commitment to me and this process was what allowed me to write my story. Bev, I thank you for being a confidante, sounding board, great researcher, and friend through all the ups and downs. We did it!

  To John Scognamiglio, for championing this book and being so patient, professional, and kind every step of the way. I feel lucky to have you as our editor. Your guidance brought it forth.

  To Dr. Karen Seratti, who provided direction at the perfect time. To those who read it in all its stages, encouraging me to go on: Maria Calleia, Rozanne DeCampos, Carol Douglas, Chris Epting, Alexandra Paul, Tiné Hayden, June Dowad, Sybil Goodrich, Claire Peterson, Claylene Jones, Angie Umbarger, Glen Woodmansee, and Sylvaine Capron. Your input and support were invaluable.

  To Maureen Pratt, Caroline Paul, Rod Mitchell, Alison Arngrim, Laura Hillenbrand, Dr. Ron Zodkevitch, Stephen Shearer, Scott Vestal, and Eve Golden, whose ideas, insights, and advice were integral to the book.

  To Rick Ellis and Stephen Anderson, for having our backs on all things legal. To Paulette Cohn, for being the connector. Dr. Daniel Wallace, for everything lupus-related and so much more; to Tom Sheridan, for lessons in integrity and never letting the bus hit me. Earl Hamner, for his generosity of spirit. Kari Lizer, for her friendship, inspiration, and Mrs. W. To Mark Tinker, Johh Putch, and Bob Yannetti, for supporting me personally and believing in me professionally. To my Walton family, for loving me; and the Walton fans, for all their encouragement from the moment they heard I was going to write this book. More thanks than I can say to my dear friends, who lift me up on a daily basis. I feel so blessed to have you in my life.

  To Syd, my light and purpose on this planet, for the lessons you continue to teach me. To Kylie and Robyn, who have added love and learning to my life as the “stepmonster.” To Runtie, who taught me how to love again. Without you, I would likely be lost and alone.

  To my Don—my mate, partner, best friend, and love. I feel more appreciation that I am capable of expressing. I love you more than you know, and without your complete support and unwavering love, there would be no book.

  Now…read it!

  In 1971, CBS aired The Homecoming, a Christmas movie written by Earl Hamner Jr., about a depression-era mountain family based on Hamner’s own childhood in Schuyler, Virginia. The movie was a ratings success and inspired the dramatic series The Waltons, which aired for nine seasons. Even after it was retired from official production, the show inspired several reunion specials, and is still one of television’s most celebrated and beloved series. To this day, The Waltons airs in syndication around the world, is sold on DVD, has its own museum, and is adored by members of its national and international fan clubs. In this first book written by a former cast member, Mary McDonough, who played Erin, takes us on a behind-the-scenes, poignant, funny, and sometimes heartbreaking journey up Walton’s mountain and beyond.

  Cast of The Homecoming: A Christmas Story

  John Walton

  Andrew Duggan

  Olivia Walton

  Patricia Neal

  Grandpa Walton

  Edgar Bergen

  Grandma Walton

  Ellen Corby

  John-Boy Walton

  Richard Thomas

  Jason Walton

  Jon Walmsley

  Mary Ellen Walton

  Judy Norton

  Erin Walton

  Mary Beth McDonough

  Ben Walton

  Eric Scott

  Jim Bob Walton

  David Harper

  Elizabeth Walton

  Kami Cotler

  Cast of The Waltons

  John Walton

  Ralph Waite

  Olivia Walton

  Michael Learned

  Zebulon Walton

  Will Geer

  Esther Walton

  Ellen Corby

  John-Boy Walton

  Richard Thomas (1972–77)

  John-Boy Walton

  Robert Wightman (1979–1981)

  Jason Walton

  Jon Walmsley

  Mary Ellen Walton

  Judy Norton

  Erin Walton

  Mary Beth McDonough

  Ben Walton

  Eric Scott

  Jim Bob Walton

  David Harper

  Elizabeth Walton

  Kami Cotler

  Contents

  Foreword

  Introduction

  1. Irish Luck

  2. Welcome to the Mountain

  3. America’s Family

  4. What’s a “Dinah”?

  5. Lessons in Laughter

  6. Mountains and Molehills

  7. I Feel In-Between and Forgotten

  8. But All I Wanted to Do Was Act!

  9. Boobs In, Boobs Out

  10. What’s Next?

  11. Nuts and Sluts

  12. The Mountain Today

  Foreword

  By

  Earl Hamner, Jr.

  In the summer of 1971, an event came about that would change my life, as well as the lives of many others. I had written a script based on my book The Homecoming. CBS liked it and ordered it be made into a two-hour movie to be aired as a Christmas special. Fielder Cook, who had accomplished such distinguished work in “the Golden Age of Television,” signed on as director. This was a special stroke of luck, because in addition to his taste and talent, Fielder was also a Virginian. He knew the country I was writing about, and he knew the people.

  We were again elated when Patricia Neal accepted the offer to appear as the mother, and equally happy when we were able to persuade Richard Thomas, a promising young film and stage actor, to accept the starring role of John-Boy Walton.

  Several other adult roles were cast, notably Ellen Corby as the grandmother and Edgar Bergen as the grandfather. Then came an equally challenging task—finding competent young actors to play the roles of children ages six to thirteen. Pam Polifroni, our casting director, brought in teams of young actors. One exceptionally appealing group she had selected primarily because they appeared to be brothers and sisters. We hired that group, and one of those children was Mary Beth McDonough, the author of this book.

  Mary Beth was a pretty little girl of ten when she was first cast. She had taken dance lessons, but she had never acted professionally. Little did she (or any of the rest of us) know that in time, she would be seen by as many as 50 million viewers on a single night.

  Mary Beth was to play Erin, a character based on my sister Audrey. I was especially pleased by the casting because, like Audrey, Mary Beth was very beautiful, and had a winning smile. I saw some of Audrey in Mary Beth—also a middle child—with an outgoing, accepting, happy disposition.

  During the weeks when we first started working together, I came to know Mary’s family—her strong, caring father; her pretty, patient mother, with her warm smile; her big, protective brothers, Michael and John; and her little sister, Elaine. You could sense the strength that Mary brought with her from such a family, whom she describes more fully in this book.

  Th
ere is a cliché in the television industry. Even though there may have been fistfights on the sets, and even if they hardly are on speaking terms, every actor, director, writer, producer, or crew member who worked on a feature film or television series will claim, “We were just like family.”

  That they were, and are, a family is honestly true of The Waltons, because the actors were actually playing members of a real family. They are still bound together because of their experiences growing up as actors playing brothers and sisters. Compounding this equation is the fact that Michael Learned and Ralph Waite saw their responsibility as adult actors and gave the young actors caring and knowing support. Richard Thomas, too, realized the vulnerability of the child actors and assumed a supportive role that he filled during the filming and even to this day—that of the older brother.

  Over the many years they worked together, they developed relationships very similar to those of the characters they portrayed. Even today, after the long run of the series is over, the actors still have familial feelings for each other.

  When I first read Mary’s manuscript, I was struck by the honesty with which she describes her early experiences. It is a revealing story that took courage and strength to tell. It is a story of the triumph of the human spirit over adversity at its finest.

  Introduction

  There are three questions we are always asked:

  1. What was it like growing up on The Waltons?

  2. Were you all as close as you seemed on the show?

  3. How did you grow up to be so normal?

  The short answers are:

  1. Terrific and hard.

  2. Yes.

  3. Who knows?

  Seriously, I’ve also wondered how we got through it all. I’ve always thought of writing a book about what it was like to grow up on the show, and joked it should be titled I Haven’t Robbed a Convenience Store…Yet!

  My friend Paul Petersen, who grew up playing Jeff Stone on The Donna Reed Show, said to be honest and tell it all. “The life of Hollywood kid actors was hard then, is hard now—and the more people know about it, the better.”

  Oh, but to tell the truth, the hard truth. Would anyone really want to know? Or, are they more comfortable believing the show and its cast of characters were in real life as they were on TV? If that’s true for you, put this book down. The show does deserve its beautiful memories.

  This book is about the kooky, wonderful, different, loving, harsh, confusing, fascinating, otherworldly way I grew up as Erin Walton, and how I came out the other side not having robbed a convenience store. Despite my lack of criminal activity, I did not escape totally unscathed, either.

  The decision to write didn’t come easily for several reasons. When people ask me why we haven’t written a book about The Waltons, I joke that if anyone did and told the whole truth, the rest of us would get together and kill them. So, if I disappear soon after this book is published, consider The Waltons family members key suspects.

  Seriously, I hesitated to write in deference to my beloved cast mates. We have always regarded each other as family. There’s a huge amount of respect for each other’s privacy. We are dear friends this many years later; we love each other, and no one will ever break our bond. You don’t grow up with ten extra family members over the course of nine seasons and not have a lot of life together. They are also why I believe we grew up, well, fairly “normal.” But I’m ahead of myself.

  I’ve learned the Universe has a way of confirming our paths to us, and one day the “book” messages pushed me to complete this book. I was at work on The New Adventures of Old Christine, where I had a recurring role as Mrs. Wilhoite. I found myself in a conversation with Blair Underwood. (Yes, of all people! And yes, he is the nicest ever. And yes, the most handsome!) I was telling Blair, who played Mr. Harris, my funny stories of Walton-hood and being a mom, and now a “stepmonster,” and he said, “Mary, you have to write these experiences and tips in a book.”

  Then, later on the set, Tricia O’Kelley (Marly) and Alex Kapp-Horner (Lindsay) were asking me about The Waltons and my years growing up in the business. They shared how much they loved the show and thought my stories were great.

  “You should write a book! Look at us! Seriously, our mouths are hanging open wanting to hear more,” Alex said.

  Tricia agreed and said, “You have to write this.”

  Julia Louis-Dreyfus (who, yes, is the funniest, nicest, most talented, and most gracious woman) joined us and shared some of her own fond memories of The Waltons, and talked about how she and her sister, Lauren Bowles, used to “play Waltons” when they were kids.

  The timing of these conversations, along with my desire to share my story and offer encouragement to others, confirmed I should write.

  So, back I go, to my foundation, my friends, my Walton family. Back to her, the girl I tried to crawl out from under for years. The girl I had sealed away in a Tupperware container somewhere. Yeah, her. What a mixed bag for me, being Erin.

  Establishing myself as Mary McDonough, separate from Erin Walton, had become important to me, as it is for any actor or performer, whether they are associated with a particular character or just a public persona. I’ve been taught and had no trouble appreciating fans; yet I yearn for a sense of self, to be loved and understood for who I am, not the image of any character I’ve portrayed.

  Rosemary Clooney, the beautiful singer and actress, was like a mentor-mother to me. She taught me about separating what’s important from what can be let go. I met Rosemary in 1982 after meeting her sons and nephew in Kentucky while shooting a movie. More about that later.

  She embraced me and treated me like a daughter when I dated her son. I, like many, called her “Mama.” She had knowledge about the business that my mother didn’t. Rosemary knew better than most celebrities how to separate her private life from her public persona, without disappointing either one. I remember one year we were in a Christmas tree lot and the owner asked her to sing “White Christmas.” There, in the middle of the pine trees and fir, reminiscent of that fabulous setting for the movie, she graciously obliged. I know she made his holiday, as she does mine to this very day. I still cherish the Christmas cassettes she sent each year with a personal message to me.

  One night after a PR event, she told me it was time to “take the singer off and hang her in the closet.” She described it as metaphorically taking off that persona, hanging the girl singer on a hanger, putting on a comfy robe, and surrounding herself with family. She literally knew how to “be” Rosemary, without feeling conflicted with who the world thought she was from the public image.

  It would take me years to understand how to do that, but her example helped me learn to put Erin on a hanger and “be” Mary. Eventually I learned it was okay to be both—I didn’t have to get rid of Erin; I just needed to know when to wear Erin and when to hang her up.

  I had been away from Erin for years, trying to leave her in that “closet.” Writing this book, I faced her again as I headed back to Warner Brothers Stage 26 in the shadow of the Cahuenga Pass, the familiar backdrop now recognizable as Walton’s Mountain.

  At the age of ten, I had no way of knowing how that mountain would change my life. Nor would I know until decades later how the show, scripts, and the people would mold me forever. It became more than a place where I struggled to grow up in a world of contradictions, required to be a working “adult,” but treated like a child. I had good times and bad, and one of the most unique and amazing experiences a kid can have.

  The mountain became a symbol of my life. My life had been trying to move my mountains of emotion, fear, pain, experiences, failures, and feelings. I believed if I could just plow through my mountains of life’s “stuff,” I could get to the top and be accomplished, successful, happy, and healed. If I worked hard enough, it would pay off. If I had enough indulgences, I’d get to heaven. (My Irish-Catholic upbringing rearing its head.)

  Over the years, I’ve hiked, run away from, cursed, climbed, scre
amed, and thrown my rage at my mountain. I’ve given up a hundred times and felt defeated by my life’s mountains. I’ve brought in huge earthmovers to drill through it. I’ve assessed and talked it to death and let others tell me how to move it. I’ve examined every rock, boulder, and pebble, and even had soil samples run on the bloody thing—thinking if I understood it, I could conquer it. Hell, I would have eaten it if I felt that would do the trick. I just wanted to be better, whole, and done with it!

  Then one day, exhausted, I sat down and decided…maybe…just maybe I could enjoy the view. In the stillness, a peace came over me as I realized I didn’t have to move the mountain at all; I could just walk around it. I could even sit on my butt and slide down. I finally learned that embracing and accepting my mountain, and all its molehills, made all the difference.

  These are my memories of forty-nine years of joy, struggle, loss, love, illness, pain, and pleasure. My fears and tears are just like everyone else’s. All right, my experiences are a bit different. Once, when friends were sharing high-school stories, someone commented, “Mary, you can’t even share a high-school memory because you weren’t a real high schooler.” Ouch.

  But I grew up, too. I just happened to do it on television in front of millions of people. My solution then was to hide my struggles, thinking if I could be little Mary Walton, I would please all of you. So I kept my secrets until it almost killed me. I’ve always written, so this book seems a natural way to express my journey as I share the mountain of lessons I learned from the people I loved and the life I led on Walton’s Mountain and beyond.