Bob Vickrey's Parents, Bernice and I.L. "Vick" Vickrey, at a family Christmas gathering in the mid-1980s.
ON THE CHRISTMAS SET WITH THE WALTONS
By Bob Vickrey
The Palisadian Post, December 16, 2010
After arriving in California more than three decades ago I had the chance to become reacquainted with a former Texas high school classmate who had become a writer and producer of the hugely popular family drama The Waltons.
The series had a successful television run from the early 1970s and on into the 1980s, and my pal Claylene Jones (Clay, for short) had been creator and Executive Producer Earl Hamner’s protégé from the get-go. He had taught her the business of television production during those years.
Clay and I grew up on the heavily industrial east-side of Houston and both our parents worked hard to maintain their middle-class status. Even though she never made a big deal out of her success in the entertainment business, she and I both knew what it meant for a kid from the ‘ship channel’ side of town to lay claim to her heady position in television. I learned rather quickly on my infrequent visits to the Warner Studios that she was held in high regard by her co-workers there as well as the cast and crew of the show.
When Clay learned of my parents’ imminent visit from Houston, she insisted that they come and see The Waltons Christmas episode which was being filmed that particular week. Knowing of my parent’s love of the show— just like about every other person of their generation who had grown up struggling in a country setting during the depression, I accepted her invitation without hesitation.
The show had definitely struck a chord which seemed to transport audiences to a purer and simpler time even in the face of a major depression. It offered the depiction of the best that the term ‘family’ had to offer. Maybe everyone who watched wished to be part of such a large and close-knit family that always managed to work its way through each crisis at hand. The show featured a fair and even-tempered mother and father who set high moral and ethical standards for their children.
My folks arrived on a late-night American Airlines flight and as they walked out of the gateway, I spotted my dad wearing his best suit and tie. I quickly realized that this represented the longest trip they had ever made from their Texas home. I assumed that their unsuspecting seatmates probably got some background information on the trip from my chatty Dad who always seemed to befriend the closest stranger and come away with a new friend.
After I helped them settle into their accommodations in my modest Westside bungalow, I told them of my plans to show them the usual tourist spots – Hollywood Boulevard, the UCLA campus, and perhaps the Getty Museum if we had time. They seemed completely ready for playing their role as first-timers.
I mentioned Clay’s invitation to watch the filming of the Walton’s Christmas episode and I’ll never forget their look of disbelief when I explained that the show wasn’t filmed before a studio audience and that they would be about the only outsiders present at the filming. They immediately asked how expensive the tickets would be because they were traveling on a pretty tight budget. There seemed to be considerable relief when I told them we were Clay’s guests and there was no charge for simply watching the proceedings from a backstage area.
As I walked through the hallway on the morning we were headed to Burbank, I overheard my dad asking about his attire for the day. “Do you think this tie is going to be okay? I really hadn’t planned on any formal event when I was doing my packing.” I let him know that in fact a suit was not required, but I knew that a man of his generation would have never been caught dead under-dressed for such an august event. I certainly knew not to argue.
Clay wasted no time in showing us the studio lot as she pointed out all the spots where their favorite shows were filmed. She took us by golf cart out to the old Walton house and sawmill, and even I (now already jaded after living in LA for only three years) was surprised at how a pastoral and serene setting like this could be preserved just a stone’s throw south of the busy Ventura Freeway. I, too, believed we had been transported to another time to the Virginia foothills.
My dad was thrilled at the sight of an old sawmill because he had known those surroundings as a boy growing up in East Texas. I watched their faces and wondered what must have been racing through their minds at that moment. Clay caught the moment as well, but was forced to interrupt the tranquility by informing them that the actual filming would be done on a stage near the parking lot where we had entered the grounds—and unfortunately not at this scenic spot which had garnered their curiosity.
Sure enough, when we arrived at Stage 26, we encountered the whole cast which I was told was a rare event in the filming of the series. As we stood off in the wings of the stage, I heard my parents whispering and sometimes pointing out various cast members—not by their actual names, but by their stage names. Dad pointed out Grandpa Walton, but when I told him it was a great actor named Will Geer, he showed little interest in such trivial details. John-Boy (Richard Thomas) walked by a minute later and greeted them – I’m sure on Clay’s prodding, and my folks seemed truly pleased at the attention they were receiving from the assembled crew.
When actor Ralph Waite strolled by doing a last minute study of the script in hand, Dad blurted out: “Whadda’ you know Bernice, there’s John Walton!” Waite was only several feet away and caught somewhat off guard, turned and acknowledged that he, indeed, was John Walton and asked if they happened to be the special guests of Clay that he had heard about. My dad quickly removed his hat and in true Texas fashion said, “Yes sir, I’m I.L.Vickrey from Galena Park, Texas and we’re out here visiting our son. It’s very nice to meet you Mister Walton.”
They both beamed with broad smiles and as I escorted my mom to the other side of the stage to get a look at the gorgeous Christmas tree being used in the scene, I couldn’t help but look back at Dad who now was fully engaged with Ralph Waite in some story from his youth which the kind and attentive actor seemed to be absorbing with great relish. I happened to catch Clay’s eye who was standing directly across stage from me and I saw that she had not missed the moment. Knowing that our backgrounds were truly intertwined, I think I may have caught her experiencing a shared moment of joy and possibly envisioning her own parents there in the same setting.
Shortly afterward, she apologetically interrupted the new friendship to squire her actor to his appointed place on stage to begin the shooting of the episode. My dad made sure to remind me of this budding friendship in many conversations long after he had returned home. He seemed particularly pleased because John Walton had always been his favorite character on the show.
After the series went off the air, Clay stayed in the business for several years and enjoyed some success in making television movies, but the Hollywood life grew tiresome and home still called to her. She eventually found her way back to the hills of west Austin where she lives today.
Years later after my parents had passed away; I had the opportunity to reconnect with the gracious and elegant creator Earl Hamner who had mesmerized American audiences with that rich, mellifluous narration of the tales of his Virginia boyhood. As he regaled me with stories that evening, I couldn’t help but think back to the day when my parents and I were allowed to share a Christmas with a fictional family. However, judging by the spirit and camaraderie we experienced on the set that day, you would have sworn the Waltons were the real thing.
Bob Vickrey is a freelance writer whose columns have appeared in the Houston Chronicle and Ft. Worth Star-Telegram. He is a member of the Board of Contributors for the Waco Tribune-Herald and a contributor to the Boryana Books website. He lives in Pacific Palisades, California.
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