Lessons from the Mountain

by Mary McDonough

  When we started the show, Ralph had a hard time remembering our names. Here he was, playing the head of the household, with this litter of kids and a lineup of confusing names. There was me, Mary Elizabeth, playing Erin, not to be confused with the character Elizabeth. Mary Ellen was played by Judy, John–Boy was Richard, Ralph himself played John, and Jon was Jason. So he had a struggle to get the names right.

  He poked fun at himself for that a lot. We were doing a reunion show years later, and he turned to Jon and said, “Now I know you, you’re Eric, right?” Still makes me smile.

  What we didn’t know as kids was that he was struggling with alcoholism. He later told me that looking into our faces, realizing we looked up to him for guidance and as a surrogate father, had actually jolted him into getting help. He got sober and has been helping others do the same ever since. He is remarkable in his strength.

  When he ran for the U.S. Congress in 1990 and 1998, we all supported him because we knew he wanted the best for his community. Ralph has always wanted the best for people. I love him for that, and for the continued smiles and laughter he still brings me…even as I write this.

  A GIRL NAMED MICHAEL

  I had a brother named Michael, but this was new to me. She was so beautiful and always so nice to us kids, maybe because she had sons of her own. What a nice mom, friend, and an example she set for me. Michael Learned became like a mother to me during the show, but through our years of friendship, she has become more like a sister. She was supportive like a parent, but without the scorn or disapproval a parent often brings.

  One year, I wanted my ears pierced so badly, I begged and begged. The producers wouldn’t let me because of the show. All my friends were getting pierced ears, and I wanted to be like them. I even argued that Olivia had pierced ears, so why couldn’t Erin? The answer was still no.

  Michael heard about it and came up with an idea. She suggested writing it into a script. It didn’t happen, but I loved her for going to bat for me. It’s important to have someone in your corner, speaking up with a voice you yourself don’t have…yet.

  I’ll never forget the scent Michael wore, a beautiful lily perfume, I think from France. I kept asking her the name, but could never remember it when I went to tell my mom. (I still don’t speak French well.) Years later, Michael gave me my own bottle, and I still wear lily-scented perfumes to this day.

  One year on the night of the Emmys, I had a scene with her and we worked late. They gave us a dressing room on the lot to get ready. (That would never happen these days.) Now all the actors go to the Emmys and walk the red carpet. When a show wins, the cast goes onstage. Back then, we sat at home and watched on TV along with everyone else. We kids did get to go once; we sat in the nosebleed section. When Will won his award, he dedicated it to us, and it sat on a shelf in our schoolroom until he passed away and we returned it to his daughter Ellen.

  So there we were—Michael was trying to get ready for the Emmys, and she looked over at me and said, “I should show up in my Olivia hair and depression-era frock, and if I win, I’ll thank the producers for giving me so much time to get ready for tonight.” (Over the years, she won three Emmys as Olivia Walton.) When she did show up that night, she was stunning and beautiful in an elegant and stylish gown.

  Michael influenced me in so many ways. She taught me to be considerate and to have a backbone, while keeping a sense of humor. She would fight for me and people she never even met.

  She is a caregiver who taught me generosity and even a little chutzpah. I loved that in her; I had never seen a woman like her before. Michael added shale—a solid foundation, yet still soft to the touch—to my mountain, and built in me an inner strength I wouldn’t realize I had until years later.

  SISTER, SISTER

  I was the older sister in my family, so having a big sister was also a new experience. Judy Norton was hip and sassy, and a little like Mary Ellen in her athletic ways. She had this long, lovely hair; she knew how to talk to boys; she wasn’t afraid like me. I admired her and wanted to follow her around. At first, I think I was a pip-squeak to her, but we became friends as we got older. Older Erin and Mary Ellen had more story lines together, too. We hung out, had lunch, gossiped, and even vacationed together.

  We cruised the Caribbean together one hiatus when I was nineteen. Somehow we never got any of those pictures they take of you when you’re on board, because other tourists would buy them before we could get to them. A strange thing happened on that cruise that increased my awareness of the outside world and the impact we’d had in America’s living rooms.

  Judy and I decided we should have some fun before the next season began. Whenever we went out, we never told people who we were; we were raised not to draw extra attention to ourselves. Besides, it seemed obnoxious to expect people to make a big deal over us. There was a handful of people on the cruise we were having fun with, hanging out and enjoying the activities like normal people do.

  Then someone must have recognized us, because the identity of the characters we played on TV spread throughout the ship. A few people we had been enjoying became angry at us for not telling them who we were. We were stunned. We had no idea it was our duty to inform people who we were on TV. We just thought it was okay to be us, two sisters taking a holiday, no pretenses, no bragging. We finished the cruise by staying with those not offended. It wasn’t the same after that.

  Judy became like a big sister. We shared girl talk, the boys we liked, had some sibling jealousies, made up, and then went back to telling each other about all our boyfriend troubles. Now we share wife and mothering experiences. Having a big sister has been something I never would have known without the show.

  SISTER-IN-LAW

  When Leslie Winston joined the show to play Cindy, Ben’s wife, she joined the sisterhood and we earned the nickname “The Three Musketeers.” We hung out together and had more fun than we probably should have. I was a bridesmaid to both of them, just like real sisters. When Leslie married her husband, Bob Yannetti (who directed me in Boston Legal), Eric and I were in their wedding. I remember watching how in love Leslie and Bob were. How they looked into each other’s eyes during the ceremony. Their eyes were filled with such love and joy. I had never seen or felt anything like that in my own life. When Erin got married, I pulled from Bob and Leslie’s love to use for Erin’s wedding to Paul.

  A few years ago, Eric and I helped Leslie and Bob celebrate their twenty-fifth anniversary. The close bonds are one of the reasons I think the cast was successful; we really were like a family. Actually, we really are a family.

  BABY SISTER

  The youngest Walton, Elizabeth, was played by Kami Cotler. Kami became my baby sister. I still treat her like one. I was very protective of her from the start. There’s home movie footage of us in Wyoming where I am “helping” her walk across the snowy meadow. I have my protective arm around her, leading the way until I trip and take her to the ground with me. Ah, big sisters who are not so big themselves.

  Kami is the smartest one of all of us. She may be the baby, but she was always way ahead of her time. She taught me many things my own parents didn’t know how to teach me. Her parents, Barbara and Ken, were younger and “with it,” as I would have said then.

  While we waited around at the first TV Guide cover we shot, Kami had brought along a book to read called How Babies Are Made. She was about six; I was ten. I was a little shocked seeing her read it. I asked what it was about, and, in detail, she clearly explained the biology. Out loud. I was embarrassed; we never spoke about such things in Northridge…at least not in my house. I glanced over at my parents; my dad didn’t say a word, and my mother stared at the floor. It’s a good thing I had Kami to educate me, or I may never have had my daughter, Sydnee. Oh, wait—I had Judy and Leslie to give me a clue.

  That first TV Guide photo shoot was shot with all of us in costume. I remember we were taken to the photographer’s home, where he had a studio in his garage. We all changed into our wardrobe and s
at on a backdrop. This was the first time we were all arranged as a “family.” Every year after that, we had a “family” cast shot done. They were usually done on the set. In those shots, you can see us gathered around the kitchen table, the radio, the stairs, and the front stoop of the house. I like seeing how we all grow each year. The last TV Guide shot we did, we were gathered on the truck during the Thanksgiving reunion special in 1993.

  BABY BROTHER(S)

  David Harper was Jim Bob. David played my baby brother, but we are actually less than a year apart in age. He was a natural. He had such an ease and calm about him. He went with the flow and was fun to be around. He brought such a “real boy” feeling to his portrayal of Jim Bob, it’s no wonder people felt so close to him.

  Eric Scott, as Ben, actually started out older than Erin. Then as I grew taller, we became the same age. I think we may have been twins for a while, or maybe that was our joke. When I grew taller, I think he was no longer a big brother, but then a younger one. Eric and I had a particularly close relationship. Judy, Kami, and I were his first sisters, as he only had brothers when we started the show. So he had some getting used to with us girls, but I was already a younger sister to two boys and felt comfortable with him as a brother.

  SWOLLEN HEARTS AND TEARSTAINED FACES

  I often arrived at personal appearances and events upset for one reason or another. Eric would talk me down. He understood my sensitivity, my parents, and the pressure. He would always know when I’d been crying on the drive over.

  Once I’d had a fight with my mom before an autograph signing at Universal Studios. Eric saw me, put his arm around me, and walked away from the eyes on us. He said, “What happened?”

  “My mom wanted me to wear the outfit she picked out, and I didn’t want to,” I cried. “I wanted this and she said, ‘No Walton girl should look like that, and no one will want your autograph.’”

  Eric’s listening ear and soothing comments would calm me down. He was a good big brother—he still is. Eric has talked me off more cliffs than I can count. His empathy and understanding are incredible. To this day, Eric calls all of us to see how we are.

  I’ve always admired Eric’s ability to view his acting years as being part talent and a lot of luck. “There is a lot of talent you never see, because of the luck of the business,” he told me.

  Years later, his advice to me as a new mother was to remember that our real job is to be there for our kids, and our work is to pay the rent. Whenever I’ve yearned to “be successful,” he reminded me my success as a parent to my beautiful Sydnee is testament to my success, not the dollars I bring in.

  One great thing that did come out of that day at Universal Studios was that we got tickets to my favorites, James Taylor and Joni Mitchell, in concert at the Universal Amphitheatre. Looking forward to seeing “Sweet Baby James” made up for those tears.

  About this time of my battle for independence, I started to battle my weight and body image. I was fourteen, so I was growing up and naturally out. I begged my mom to stop taking dance classes. She resisted. She couldn’t understand how I could possibly want to give up something she had always wanted. Hadn’t she given me everything she never had, everything she dreamed of as a child? It made no sense to her. We fought about it, until she realized taking dance classes, piano and singing lessons, practicing for all of them, working full-time, being a cheerleader and on the volleyball team was a bit much for me. Why wasn’t what I was doing enough? Ballet was first to be cut loose.

  I quit ballet in defiance, an act of independence I regret to this day. I loved ballet, but I needed to separate from my mother and doing what she wanted, so I quit all dance. It was probably the worst time to quit something so familiar and good for me, and certainly didn’t help with my growing body and curvy changes. I had always been rail thin and now I had curves. Something natural and normal in a woman’s growth, but not accepted easily in my industry.

  BIG BROTHERS

  Richard Thomas, the central character of The Waltons, defined the role of John-Boy. Richard was already a respected actor, and he came from a dancing family. His parents were professional dancers, so I was especially in awe of him, and wanted his approval. I admired his talent and hoped to be as good an actor someday. His sister was also a beautiful dancer, and when their company, U.S. Terpsichore, came to Los Angeles, we all went to see the performance. I felt ballet was something that bonded me to Richard. I remember one day I had my hair in a bun and he liked it. I think it reminded him of a dancer. I was pleased.

  Richard became a big brother and we all grew to adore him. He’d talk to us in character as John-Boy when we were filming. Then when the cameras weren’t rolling, he would become Richard and tell a joke or story that would have us cracking up until the moment we heard “Action!” He was a big brother to me, but it was more than that, he was the figurehead of our show. I sensed that what he did and thought was important, so I wanted him to adore and accept me, just like a real sister. He was an authority figure of sorts. I added him to my list of people I wanted approval and attention from. If he liked me, then it meant I was doing a good job, I was accepted.

  Jon, who played Jason, was always as loving to me as he was during our discussion about faith while filming The Homecoming, and his music carried us into song, dance, and laughter. I loved his “Ironing Board Blues,” which he wrote for “The Easter Story.” As Jason, he played it in a scene while Grandma ironed. I was a true little sister (okay, a pesky brat) because I would pester him to play that song all the time. It’s so peppy and happy. Jon played and composed for many of our shows, and his story lines usually included his talent and passion for music in some way.

  Jon also had a band, and would play in local clubs in Los Angeles. We always went to see him, and sometimes he would invite us to join him on the stage for a song. He is so musically gifted and talented, I asked him to score my short film For the Love of May years later.

  I am a lucky girl to have so many wonderful brothers.

  GODSEYS AND BALDWINS

  We had so many other “family” members on the show, all of whom were an integral part of the show’s success. Joe Conley was Ike Godsey, the storekeeper. He was always so nice to all of us kids and treated us the same way off and on camera. Joe has a wonderful singing voice and used to sing to me a made-up song, “Mary Elizabeth Is Her Name.” I would get embarrassed. He’d wink at me and smile that dazzling smile of his. He was such a part of our Walton lives. Seems we were always at Ike’s store.

  A few seasons later, Ronnie Claire Edwards came in to play Ike’s wife, Corabeth, and they created a dynamic duo whom fans still talk about today. Ronnie Claire is hilarious and always intrigued me with her dramatic flair and exaggerated Southern drawl. She was always fascinating to listen to, telling a yarn of a story. Once, Judy and I gave out awards at our wrap party, and Ronnie Claire got the very dramatic “ennui” award.

  The Baldwin sisters, Emily and Mamie, were played by the incredible Mary Jackson and Helen Kleeb. I loved their elegance and charm. I got to work with them alone in a few different episodes. They were a treat to watch. Two accomplished actresses playing off each other so well and with perfect rhythm. They danced with each other as those characters. I sat in awe of their work.

  Another pro was our own Yancy Tucker, with Bob Donner playing him to the hilt. Bob was such a funny man, both while acting and behind the scenes. When he played Mork’s dad in Mork & Mindy, my mom and I had another celebrity moment of pride as we watched. Bob was a deserving actor, with a heart of gold.

  There were so many great character actors around us and we were lucky to be embraced by the best.

  I am blessed to have all my family members. Each one of them brought a unique sensibility to the show and to my life. From widely different backgrounds, we united to become real siblings, family members, and neighbors—and even more important to me, true friends.

  4

  WHAT’S A “DINAH”?

  When the show
became more popular, so did we. We were dragged to appearances on weekends. I was just trying to keep up. My parents were also new at being the parent of a kid in show business, and besides being there for my brothers and sister, they wanted to help me with my added obligations. My dad tried to help us with our homework, but he was a tough teacher. He would sit with us at the kitchen table and diligently explain science or math until we understood. I was a different type of learner than he was and it frustrated him because I couldn’t understand it the way he explained it. I really tried his patience once when I couldn’t get a concept having to do with fractions. Finally he filled several glasses and started pouring water back and forth so I could visualize the equations. I hated his disapproval and would usually end up crying with frustration.

  MERV AND THE CHRISTMAS KIDS

  Later that year, Eric and I were “Christmas Kids” on the Merv Griffin and the Christmas Kids special. Yes, the little Irish-Catholic girl and the nice Jewish boy were asked to read the classic poem “A Child’s Christmas in Wales,” trading off verses. Here was another time I tried my daddy’s patience.

  I can barely read this poem aloud today, let alone when I was twelve. I just couldn’t get it. Didn’t understand what it was about. My dad took on the job, as he assumed he should, to help me memorize it, but I struggled. I had a mental block against it.

  I didn’t understand the poem and what the hell a celluloid duck was and why it mattered, anyway. This was new to me. Learning lines for a character who was my age was very different from learning a world-class poem and trying to perform it with the class it deserved. I was out of my league, with no training to speak of. No one took the time to explain it to me, and the more I tried to learn it, the more blocked I got. My friends were going out that night and I wanted to go with them. My dad said, “You can not go anywhere until you memorize the poem. When you can recite it to me, then you can go.”