Original subtitles

In the days of my boyhood on Walton's Mountain,

it was not only home to me

but to the wild animals roaming the woods.

And though they were not always welcome guests in our house,

they were reasonably free and without fear.

Sometimes, though, a threat to their lives would appear.

-Where'd you find that? -In the cellar.

Thought I got rid of that years ago.

-What do you plan to do with it? -Going into the fur business.

Oh, yeah? With one trap?

Well, that's how John Jacob Astor began.

-And he became a millionaire. -But he trapped wild things.

What do you think I'm gonna trap?

Maybe Myrtle there. Or this wild thing?

-Who's wild? -You are.

Daddy, there's some kind of animal hanging around here.

Ever seen an animal trapped in one of those?

No.

Just suppose you're a muskrat or a mink looking for food.

They got small delicate bones, you know.

Just like them flower stems.

And they see this trap

and they think it's food. So they reach in and...

I've seen them caught in these, Son. It's not a pretty sight.

Well, there goes my Fourth of July firecracker money.

Not necessarily. You ever thought about a box trap?

Box traps? They're for kids. They're just play toys.

They got advantages, Son.

At least they don't hurt the animals.

-John. -Over here, Pa.

I guess a box trap would be the best thing.

Maybe you could trap a rabbit or something.

Not pets. This is business only.

-What you got there, Pa? -Oh, here, on this map,

I think there's considerable good timber

left up here in this area.

Oh, yeah. I was thinking about going over here.

It's level, you get the lumber out easy, ready for harvesting.

-Right over here. -That's possible.

Them Virginia pines always need tending.

How long do you think it'll take you?

I can mark enough trees in three days to keep us busy a while.

I'd like to go up there with you.

Been more than a while since I've been up there.

I'd rather have you stay here, and keep the mill running.

Besides, you might want to sneak off to that reunion of yours.

Oh, yes, I would enjoy that.

To see all my old buddies and retell all the old battle tales.

Where's that, Grandpa?

The veterans of the Spanish-American War

are having a reunion.

Those of us that fought at the battle of San Juan Hill.

-You were there, weren't you? -You know that.

Along with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders.

One of these days, I'm gonna buy a store-bought cake,

all frosted and ready to eat.

Them store-bought cakes look pretty,

but they never put enough eggs in them for my taste.

"Glory be to God for dappled things

"For skies of couple-color as a brindled cow

"For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim

For fluffy frosting on an angel's cake."

Hmm. Good.

"Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls, finches' wings

"Whatever is fickle, freckled, who knows how?

"With swift, slow, sweet, sour, adazzle, dim

"He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change

"Praise him."

What's got into him?

Summer vacation, I expect.

He's getting more like his grandpa every day.

Is that so bad?

Oh, I'm sorry. I was just practicing.

Don't let me stop you.

-You gonna study? -Not yet.

Do you ever read Adventure magazine?

-Sure. Good action stories. -Yeah.

-You know how much they pay? -Never really thought about it.

-Two cents a word. -For every word?

"They," "you," "are," "is," "and," "but," "it,"

two cents apiece.

"How are you today, sir?" It's 10 cents.

It's two candy bars. Or a guitar string.

How do you know they pay so much?

Writer'sDigest. It tells you how much these magazines pay,

what they're looking for,

length of manuscript, where to submit, all that kind of thing.

I was thinking about writing an adventure story for them.

Why are you laughing?

Well, you've never been hunting for lions in Africa

or gone sailing down the Amazon looking for head-hunters.

You never had an adventure.

Well, I wouldn't say that exactly.

-What would you say exactly? -Well, Jason,

a writer doesn't have to actually experience

an adventure to write about it. Look at Stephen Crane.

He wrote some of the best descriptions of battle

in American literature. He was never in a war.

I see.

Maybe you could write one called

"How I Shot at a Wild Turkey but Missed."

Or let's see, "Stalking the Jungles

"of Walton's Mountain with a Slingshot and BB Gun."

Why don't you go practice your guitar in the barn?

Alright, I'm going.

I know when to take a hint.

Go on.

Go on.

Radio's on the blink.

Well, what's wrong with it?

I don't know. Think we blew a tube.

Here. Let me take a look at it.

Not again.

-We just got a new tube. -What's the trouble?

-It does look like a tube. -Is it the same one?

-Yes. -Goodbye Amos n' Andy.

We're gonna miss Gang Busters.

Well, you can live without Gang Busters for one night.

-No, we can't, Grandma. -Just try.

Well, what can I do?

Lots of things. Read a book.

I did that at school.

Well, you can help Erin with the dishes or fill the wood box.

Or you can come and sit beside me and let me hug you.

I'm too old for that, Grandma.

I'm not.

I'm going away tomorrow.

I'm gonna walk down to the pond.

One, two, three.

Got you.

One, two, three.

Finish the dishes, Erin?

I'll finish them.

It's kind of nice.

An evening without that radio chattering away.

Grandma.

After a busy day, some peace and quiet can be a welcome thing.

Well, who wants peace and quiet?

We have that all day.

Your grandma likes to collect her thoughts.

It's a harmless pastime.

Now, the world would be a lot better place

if people spent more time doing it.

What if you don't have any thoughts to collect?

-Do you want some of mine? -No, thanks.

What are we gonna do now?

We could make some fudge.

I'll crack the walnuts.

Can we, Grandma?

No, we're low on sugar.

Why don't we grow our sugar? We grow everything else.

-Because you don't grow sugar. -Somebody does.

-How do you think we get it? -Sugar cane.

They squeeze the juice out of it.

Hmm. Sugar.

I saw lots of it when I was down in Cuba with Teddy.

Teddy Roosevelt.

Is he gonna be at the reunion, Grandpa?

Well, only in spirit, Jim-Bob.

What reunion are you talking about?

Reunion of the veterans of the Spanish-American War,

the anniversary of the Battle of San Juan Hill.

Why don't you tell us about the charge up San Juan Hill?

Well, it was something to remember, I could tell you that.

Zeb, you're not gonna tell that story again?

Well, if we can't have Gang Busters,

I'll settle for Rough Riders.

Yes, Grandpa.

-Charge! Charge! -Charge!

Don't spoil it by telling the ending.

Come on, Grandpa. We haven't heard that story in a long time.

Well,

it was early morning of July 1, 1898.

The sun rose up out of the sea like a ball of fire.

We Rough Riders were gathered at the foot of San Juan Hill.

There was sort of a clutter and clang

an army's pulling itself together early in the morning.

The dust rose up high in the heaven mingling

with the mist on the ground.

It was humid. Just like a Turkish bath.

The sun rose up higher and began to scorch our skins

even before a single shot was fired in that army.

Our bayonets and our rifles were so hot,

we could hardly bear to put our hands to touch them.

Couldn't you just say it was hot?

It was burning, blazing hot.

It was so hot that you could have fried an egg on the ground.

There wasn't a sound so far up on the enemy's encampment

up on top of the hill.

Then suddenly there came a whistling,

singing sound in the air.

Something exploded right over our heads.

It was shrapnel, shrapnel from the enemy guns

and it showered all around us.

We began to duck, sort of, go for cover.

Then, over the carbines there came a rattle of...

"Machine guns," somebody yelled. "Let's get out of here."

And we turned and then... Then we heard his voice.

That magnificent voice.

"It's your own Gatling guns, you sons... You men!"

"It's your own Gatlings, you men!"

And there he loomed up in front of us

-on that magnificent steed! -Teddy Roosevelt.

-Shouting, "Charge!" -Charge!

Not yet. Not yet.

"Dress on the colors, men," he said. "Dress on the colors."

Oh, it was such an inspiration, a sight to behold.

I'll never forget it. Sitting there, tall in his saddle...

What was the name of his horse?

-Little Texas. -That's right.

And off we went. So courageous, an inspiration to all of us.

Sitting there with the enemy's bullets flying around him,

like so much popcorn are popping.

-And then... -Charge?

Shh. Not yet.

There're some enemy pillboxes up on top of the hill.

And the sharpshooters are shooting at us.

Then our own men begin to return the fire.

Someone had been shot.

Oh, it was the young man right next to me.

And then a sharp, clear voice came out ringing,

Teddy Roosevelt's own voice...

-"Charge!" -"Charge!"

"Charge!" And up we charged.

Up, up, to the valiant thunder of the enemy's guns.

-Up, up... -Grandpa, I'm a goner.

Hang on, young man. On we went.

-We charged. -Charge!

Up, up the hill till I reached the very crest...

Grandpa, I'm dead.

Up on top of the hill till the very crest of the hill.

And I can look down on the village of Santiago.

And then I grab that red...

You remember that red bandana you gave me, Esther?

I sure do. It belonged to my papa. On my wedding day.

-I planted that bandana... -On my wedding day.

-To tie around my hair. -Esther, I planted...

To tie around my hair, so my hair wouldn't get blown.

Esther, I am talking.

In case the horse and buggy got up too much steam.

Esther, have you quite finished?

I could go on.

I planted that red bandana on top of San Juan Hill!

A sign of victory for everyone to see!

Victory!

(Grandpa) It was burning, boiling hot.

You could have fried an egg on the ground.

There wasn't a sound on the enemy encampment up there

on top of the hill.

Ike, how come these peas are marked 11 cents

when they was only nine cents last week?

Well, Mrs. Gormley, I guess prosperity has finally made it

around the corner.

What's this?

It's five pounds of sugar, 19 cents.

Oh, highway robbery!

Mrs. Gormley, I can't help.

The wholesale house raised their prices on me.

What's this?

But there's a depression going on.

-Hey, John-Boy. -Hey, Ike.

-Mrs. Gormley, good morning. -Good morning, John-Boy.

Don't you buy a thing. He'll rob you blind.

Mrs. Gormley, will that be all?

Yes, that's all.

Deliver it with my sack of flour.

And keep your eyes out for my cat.

-Prudence run off again? -Yeah, it's got to be a habit.

Are you on your way to Boatwright?

Yes, ma'am, but it's the last week.

Summer vacation's coming up.

Oh, it seems like only yesterday we were shoveling snow.

-That is the truth. -Well, well, don't the time fly?

Yes, it does, ma'am. Bye-bye.

Time flies, Ike, especially when you're behind schedule.

I'd like a number two lead pencil, sharpened, please.

Number two sharpened coming up.

Hey, I saved yesterday's newspaper for your grandpa.

There's an article that I think might interest him.

What's that?

A reunion of Spanish-American war veterans in Charlottesville.

-Yeah, we know about that. -Is Zeb going?

Unfortunately, he can't.

Daddy's gotta go on the mountain and mark timber.

Grandpa's got to mind the mill.

Say, Ike, does it say in here who's in charge of this thing?

Yeah, it's right there. Allen McCreary.

Yeah. In Charlottesville.

I'm gonna take this, Ike, alight?

-Sure, go ahead. -Thank you.

-Go ahead and try it. -I don't wanna get trapped.

It won't hurt you. Just touch the stick where the bait is.

Why don't you touch the stick, Ben?

What's the matter? You're afraid of a box?

Use a stick.

I don't want to do it.

Elizabeth, you show us how it works.

-Go on. -Don't push me.

-It's not gonna explode. -Alright.

See, that's all there is to it.

Now, if that had been an animal, he would've been all boxed up.

What if the door fell on its head?

His head's there where the bait is.

Even if it falls on his tail, it won't hurt.

-It's not that heavy. -Pretty nifty, huh?

Why do you wanna trap animals anyway?

To get furs.

I've been reading up on it. And you know the Hudson Bay Company,

you know how they got all their money? From furs.

And they own practically all of Canada.

You could own all of Walton's Mountain?

Well, like what Grandpa says,

"Great oaks come from little acorns."

This is my little acorn.

Come in, young man. I'm sorry I kept you waiting.

But I've been putting this reunion together.

Been going from reveille to taps.

That's quite alright. I've been enjoying looking around myself.

-What did you say your name was? -John Walton, Jr.

What can I do for you, John?

We read you're in charge of the Spanish-American War reunion.

Yes, sir. That's correct.

My granddaddy was a Rough Rider.

Well, now, there aren't too many of those around.

Sit down, boy, sit down. Sit down.

-Your grandfather still alive? -He most certainly is.

And what was his name?

Zebulon Tyler Walton, but we all call him Zeb.

Well, you won't find him in that picture.

Well, it says Cuba, July 1898.

No, no, that's my outfit, the First Brigade.

He was probably in the Second Brigade.

You see, there aren't many Rough Riders in these parts.

Many are from out West or back New York way.

Polo players or cowboys.

Well, I suppose he told you about our war.

He certainly has.

I think I could find my way up San Juan Hill blindfolded.

I'm glad to hear that.

I think more young people should know and be proud

of that historic occasion.

And of Teddy Roosevelt.

I think he was the bravest leader our country we ever had.

We've certainly heard a great deal about him.

You know, there was a fighter.

He led our glorious flag to victory that day.

Look here.

Have you ever seen one of these?

A 30-caliber Krag.

First bolt-action gun adopted by the Army in 1896.

We had these down there

-on the island. -Well, very interesting.

Fine weapon. Fine, fine weapon.

-Mr. McCreary. -Yeah?

Tell you the real reason I'm here.

I'm a writer.

And I was thinking about a slant on an article that I'm gonna

be writing for Adventure magazine.

Oh, you write for Adventure magazine?

Well, I submit to it. You see, they like a gimmick.

Something new or different and interesting

that you can hang on to an article.

In the military, we call that a surprise tactic.

Could be, could be. Anyway, my idea is this.

What would you say, at your reunion, to a reenactment

of the charge up San Juan Hill by the veterans

who were there on that day?

Say, that's an interesting idea. Yeah, very interesting.

I think I could get them to rally behind an idea like that.

Second part of the idea is this.

We could hold the charge right on Walton's Mountain

which is where I live.

-And where is that? -Just over in Jefferson County.

You could've the whole mountain the entire day

and we will cooperate with you 100%.

Capital idea, John, capital.

I'll tell the veterans when they arrive.

I'm sure they'll say bully to it, you can depend on it. Bully!

-It's gonna be exciting. -Let me think here. Let me.

Come here. I've got it. I've got it.

We'll have a parade. You know, the veterans in the cars,

flags flying, buntings on the wheel,

a caravan right up to your mountain.

They'll come from all over the county.

Yeah.

It'll certainly be a lot better

than the basement of the Methodist Church.

You don't know how hot it can get there in July.

I imagine so.

Esther.

Good Lord!

Maude! Couldn't you have let a person know you're here?

-You scared the wits out of me. -I was only resting, Esther.

I get sort of winded finding my way over here.

Are you here for a visit or is there something you need?

Prudence is what I need.

The cat's out again?

You wouldn't want to take her for free, would you?

If Prudence don't quit running away,

I'm gonna have to give her to you.

No, no, no, giving us Myrtle was quite enough.

And besides, Prudence is good company for you.

Oh, she's away from home all the time running somewhere.

Esther, if you see her,

I'd appreciate it if you'd send one of the boys over to tell me.

-I'll keep an eye open. -Oh, you're a good soul, Esther.

-Think I got something. -What's that?

Hey, I got something.

Is it a bobcat or something? What's it?

-It's wild I think. -A mountain lion or something.

Yeah.

It's just a dumb cat.

-Big animal, Ben. -Careful, Ben, might hurt you.

-Come on, cut it out. -Be careful.

Naughty Prudence to run away like that.

You say you found her in a trap?

Well, yes, ma'am.

Well, I never heard of a cat trap before,

but if you got one set, I know where to find Prudence.

Sure will save a lot of wear and tear on looking for her.

Well, it's not actually a cat trap, ma'am.

-It's for wild animals. -Don't say anything to Prudence.

She won't know the difference.

Esther, what are you planning to do? Set fire to the place?

I'm not taking out a sliver with a needle

that hasn't been sterilized.

-Ouch! What're you doing? -Would you hold still?

Stop jumping around. I can't do anything.

I did not request a major operation, Esther.

You handle that needle like a lumberjack.

I never heard a man complain so. Now will you hold still?

Esther, if you were planning to amputate my thumb,

give me a say-so in the matter.

-Hey, hi, Zeb. -Come on.

Hi, Ike.

Hold still.

Where's your motorcycle?

That stupid thing blew up. I got a fella working on it.

Esther's trying to extract a cord of wood from my thumb.

There. There's his cord of wood.

What brings you here, Ike?

I was bringing a sack of flour over to Maude Gormley.

John-Boy left this at the store.

-Thought I'd give him back. -Thanks.

How's that reunion coming up, Zeb?

It ought to be quite an affair, yes.

Read about that and thought about you right off.

I've been doing some thinking about it myself.

Be nice to go, Zeb.

You can catch up with all your war buddies.

It would, but John being off the place I can't spare the time.

For one day?

As much as I would like to, I cannot indulge

in such highfalutin foolishness with a bank payment coming due.

The reunion dinner, if I recall, was only $1.25, wasn't it, Zeb?

Only!

Zeb, we can manage $1.25.

And I'll tell you what, Zeb. I'll contribute a quarter.

Anytime I'm in need of your charity, Ike, I'll let you know.

I don't think it's the supper money that's bothering him.

Well, then, what is it?

I don't know.

Maybe men don't like to go to reunions.

Remember how John didn't want to go to his high school reunion?

Well, I want Zeb to go.

I want him to get together with all his old war buddies

and talk and talk till he gets it all out

so I don't have to listen to it anymore,

have it all brought back to me.

Every time he tells those stories, I...

Well, nobody knows what I went through while he was off

fighting in that war.

Where...

Where is she? Where is my little chickadee?

Don't... Don't "little chickadee" me!

You're going. That's that, and there's no argument.

-Just where am I going? -To the reunion.

I guess, I'm the best judge of where I'm going.

Work here is more important than chewing the fat about old times.

-After all that... -Grandma, don't worry about it.

Grandpa.

I'm happy to tell you don't have to go to the reunion.

-What do you mean by that? -You don't have to go.

-How's that... -It's coming to you.

Well, what do you mean by that?

Mr. Allen McCreary, who's in charge of the whole shebang,

moved it from Charlottesville to Walton's Mountain.

Well, whose dumb fool idea is that?

It was my dumb fool idea.

Well, you could just tell Mr. Mc, whatever his name is,

to keep his reunion in Charlottesville where it belongs

instead of bothering us up here at Walton's Mountain.

Fool ideas...

I think... Well, here's what I had in mind.

You think it's a good idea?

See, what we had in mind, Mr. McCreary and myself,

was to have a reenactment up San Juan Hill

with the actual veterans who were there reliving the battle.

-I think that's a terrible idea. -Why?

A friendly reunion is one thing, but reenacting a battle

in which young men died on both sides is something else again.

It seems to me you're glorifying war.

I'm not glorifying war. I wouldn't do such a thing.

Well, you get a bunch of old fossils charging up a hill

they might make it look like all fun and games,

but it wasn't.

I don't want Ben or Jim-Bob or any other youngster

to think that war is no worse than a turkey shoot.

I just thought it would be fun for Grandpa.

John-Boy, it wasn't fun. Not for those that stayed at home.

And not for those that went, either,

no matter how much they like to talk about it.

Well, I have to admit, I know what you mean.

I'll just have to call the whole thing off.

I'm sorry. I guess, I shouldn't have made any plans

without asking my family first.

Why should they object?

It was such a glorious chapter in the history of our country.

I think they feel that to relive all that killing

with young children around...

But those men died as heroes in the name of our country.

I understand that, sir.

And I don't know what to tell you.

They've just put their foot down.

I have to ask you to call it off.

But you can't do that, it's too late.

Too many plans have been made.

This is very important to me.

I want to charge up that hill like Teddy did.

Well, I've even had my uniform cleaned.

And my wife, she's been decorating the car,

the whole town has been helping.

The newspaper, they've got a copy of the speech

that I'm gonna make up on your hill.

It's very important, sir, very important.

Yes, sir.

We'll just have to work something out.

John-Boy, out there in them pickleweeds

is a catfish as big as Jonah's whale lurking.

I aim to have him for supper if he'll accept my invitation.

What are you tempting him with?

I've got some cheese that's been aging all winter long.

You get any bites from him yet?

Mosquitoes, and a chigger or two.

Grandpa, I couldn't call off that reunion.

I tried, but I couldn't do that to Mr. McCreary.

I'll tell you what they'd do.

They're gonna hold it on the other side of the mountain.

Let them have it wherever they want. It's no concern of mine.

What if I told you I was planning to write an article

on this reunion for Adventure magazine?

A real adventure story, you know.

"How I Charged up San Juan Hill."

I wanted to make you the first person.

I'd like to have a first person for those stories.

"I charged up San Juan Hill with Roosevelt and the Rough Riders."

I could even sign it

"How I Charged Up San Juan Hill by Rough Rider Zeb Walton

"as told to his grandson John Walton, Jr."

If they bought it from me, they'd pay me two cents

for every word you told me.

Didn't realize any words of mine would be worth two cents total.

I suppose if you sold the article, it'd help you buy

schoolbooks in the fall, huh?

Probably would.

Might even be able to buy a second-hand typewriter.

I just don't think I can do it, John-Boy.

Please, Grandpa.

I'm sorry.

Fox.

Fox! Got a fox! Jason, Mary Ellen.

-Come here, everyone. -What happened?

-It's a fox. I got a fox. -You got a fox!

-With a red fur. -Did you expect a green fox?

I saw Carole Lombard in a movie magazine once.

She had a fox just like that around her neck.

Wouldn't it bite?

Don't be silly, it wasn't alive.

I'm not silly.

Carole Lombard is silly for wearing a dead fox around her.

A lot of women wear a dead fox around their necks.

That's what makes them fashionable.

-How're you gonna kill him, Ben? -Kill him?

Well, I was gonna ask Daddy the best way to save the pelt.

But I'll just whack him on the head.

You're gonna kill him, are you?

How else am I going to get the pelt? Skin him alive?

Don't you dare kill him!

-I have to. -No, you don't.

He is a fox and all they do is eat chickens and make trouble.

How could you even think of killing something so cute?

It's his fault he got trapped. Not mine.

-Who built the trap? -And who baited it and set it?

Maybe I'll get some chloroform and put him to sleep.

That would be an improvement over being knocked in the head.

Poor thing. He looks hungry.

Guess I'll give you some leftovers after supper.

Hey, I'll give him some leftovers after supper.

Will you please tell Mama that Ben's gonna kill that fox?

And so he says.

Elizabeth, don't worry about it. Go get washed up for supper now.

Jason.

Would you please tell Mama that Ben's gonna kill that fox?

-What's your brother up to? -He says he's gonna kill it.

I reckon he's gonna sell the pelt.

He would do anything for money.

Elizabeth, I will take care of it.

Will you get washed up? You'll be late for prayer meeting.

Come on.

John-Boy, you know where your grandpa is?

-He's gonna miss his supper. -I don't know.

Even if I did, he wouldn't speak to me.

He's so upset about this reunion business.

Now, don't you go blame yourself for your grandpa's moods.

Hides in his little world when there's something on his mind.

I remember way back when it was the Maine.

Yeah.

You mean the battleship Maine?

-The one blown up off of Cuba? -Yeah.

One of Zeb's best friends was killed. I'll never forget it.

All those young men so stirred up, so anxious to enlist.

Including Zeb.

I made the mistake of telling him that war was for single men,

not men with a... Well, with a wife.

I almost made this mistake of saying, "And a child."

Zeb didn't know I was carrying John at the time.

I'll never understand why you didn't tell him.

We were so young.

I was afraid he felt trapped enough as it was

without saddling fatherhood on him

and he was so eager to go.

And he just moped in that little world of his

until I just couldn't stand it.

Yeah. So I finally told him to go, it was his duty to go.

His patriotic duty.

I didn't want him to hate me for holding on to him.

And then later I thought maybe I'd been right,

that it would have been better if he was with me,

even hating me,

than lying out there somewhere in a battlefield in Cuba.

I didn't hear from him for weeks.

When he came home from the war,

when he came home to me and John,

it was... I was so...

John-Boy, would you get your grandpa in here now?

These peas... Now look what you made me do.

John-Boy, you got a long distance phone call at Ike's.

You've to call operator number three in Charlottesville.

Operator number three.

John-Boy, supper's almost ready.

Mama, it's long distance. I'll be right back. Thanks, Jim-Bob.

It's about time you showed up, young man. Where have you been?

No place.

Well, go wash up for supper.

Yeah, I guess I'd better.

Grandma.

I love you.

Miss Fannie, this is John Walton, Jr.

Yes, John-Boy.

I need operator number three in Charlottesville.

Listen, if there's anything I could do...

I don't even know who it is yet, Ike.

Hello, operator. Yes. I'm here.

-It's Mr. McCreary. -That's the guy with the...

Mr. McCreary. Yes, this is John Walton, Jr.

I'm returning your call.

Yes. About the reunion tomorrow.

I didn't get the response I expected.

-Only three men reported in. -I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

Kind of hard to do a charge up a hill with only three men.

Besides, they don't much like the idea.

-Running up a hill. -You tried, Mr. McCreary.

Yeah, we tried. I guess times are changing.

The four of us will just have to go to the Methodist Church

and then have supper at the diner.

Canceled everything else.

Thanks for calling, Mr. McCreary.

Yeah. Good luck, boy, and thank you.

Where is everybody?

-Prayer meeting. -Oh, that's right.

-Got your long distance call? -Yeah.

The reunion's been called off.

Nobody's coming?

Only three of them showed up.

Grandpa's gonna be happy to hear that.

Your grandpa's gone.

What do you mean gone?

Yeah, well, he left a note for me on the dresser.

-What does it say? -Nothing makes any sense.

"Gone to the mountain. Be back when the war's over."

Just gonna sit there and look at him?

Just leave me alone, Elizabeth.

How would you feel if you were it?

Look, this is none of your business.

Well, this is interesting.

Two Waltons and a fox in the middle.

What are you gonna do, Ben?

-I don't know. -He's mean!

Well, look at him. He kills chickens.

He didn't kill any of ours.

How do you know? I caught him right near the chicken coop.

Mama, will you tell Elizabeth that foxes kill chickens?

That's his nature. He hunts for food.

He wants to kill him to buy firecrackers.

I don't want to kill him.

In fact, I was thinking I might keep him for a pet.

That might've worked if you'd caught him a year ago.

-He's a wild creature now. -Then I'll keep a wild fox.

Why do you wanna keep him if you can't make a pet out of him?

Look, Elizabeth. I caught him and I could do anything I want.

Ben, you and he are about the same age in animal years.

He has a good, full life to look forward to, just as you do.

He even looks like you.

-What are you talking about? -You both have red hair.

One of these days you're probably gonna meet a nice girl

and get married and have a family.

I bet he was looking forward

to meeting a pretty little vixen and having a family, too.

How you gonna feel, keeping him locked up in a cage

knowing how lonely he is, all that he's missing?

Well, it's his fault. He went into my cage.

He was hungry!

Then I'll put him out where he could see everything.

Where he can watch all the other animals running free?

Close to the woods so that he can smell the earth

and the new spring leaves?

Where on a quiet night, he can hear the bullfrogs,

the waterfall, and the river?

Come on, Elizabeth.

Heehaw.

Hey, old fella.

Couple of stubborn old mules, one trying to tell the other

what a jackass he's made of himself through all these years.

Heehaw. Is that what you're trying to tell me?

Well, don't rub it in.

Thank you kindly for quitting.

-Grandpa! -Hmm?

John-Boy.

Well.

What are you doing up here, young man?

I could ask you the same question.

I come up here to tell you the reunion's been called off.

I suppose you think that's why I come up here,

on account of your dumb, silly old reunion?

Yes, it is.

You hit the nail, just what you've been thinking.

I did come up here on account of your dumb, silly old reunion.

That is something that I just don't understand, Grandpa,

if you want the truth.

It's embarrassment, false pride.

I didn't want to go to that reunion 'cause of your grandma.

She would've eventually found out the truth.

It's an awful thing to have even that kind of a white lie

festering in your soul for over 40 years.

What do you mean, Grandpa?

Well, the truth is,

contrary to what I've been telling you all these years,

I never was a member of that wonderful organization

known as the Rough Riders.

It was never my privilege to be one of Roosevelt's chosen few.

I was in the Army,

but they gave me the job I guess they thought I was fit for.

-What was that? -Tending mules.

What do you think of that now?

I never knew the Army was so practical.

No, I never made that charge up to the top of San Juan Hill.

I never did. Talking kindly of your grandma though,

she'd sacrificed an awful lot to let me go.

I don't suppose you recollect

that she was carrying your daddy while I was away.

She was talking about it the other day.

After I got back, I just couldn't bear

to tell her the miserable truth.

So I sort of fabricated things, embroidered the story, you know,

the way your grandma embroiders a tablecloth to sort of perk it,

well, I embroidered my story.

Just to make her happy.

You young ones seem to enjoy it, too.

And after a while, it got so that

I almost began to believe it myself.

That's the way a lot of our memories are.

Almost pure fabrications. It wasn't what happened,

but just what you wished and hoped would have happened.

And in my memory, I made that charge up San Juan Hill.

That's what I want to remember.

Is it so criminal, John-Boy, to want to have pleasant memories?

And I have seven grandchildren right in this house.

My word! You know that we...

Mrs. Walton, could this be them now?

Looks like John-Boy found him. Am I glad you waited.

-Esther. -We have company.

Zeb Walton and my grandson John Walton, Jr.

-How do you do. -This is Mr. and Mrs. Allerton.

-Nice to know you. -Zeb.

-It is a pleasure, ma'am. -It's my pleasure, Mr. Walton.

Zeb! You old rascal you!

Boy, am I ever happy to find you again.

I never knew where you were

until McCreary talked about a charge up Walton's Mountain.

I said to Elaine,

that's got to be Zeb Walton's mountain and sure enough...

After all these years! I can't believe it!

Well, I might believe if I knew what to believe.

-Just who are you, sir? -Bob! Bob Allerton.

Don't tell me you don't remember me.

Didn't you tell your folks about me?

Well, if you're not Teddy Roosevelt, I don't think he did.

-No, you couldn't be. -Yes.

-Bobby. -Yes.

Bobby! Little Bobby Allerton!

I never forgot you.

I could never forget the man that saved my life.

Didn't you ever tell them about it?

No, Mr. Allerton.

I don't think he ever did.

Truth is, I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for Zeb.

We were just starting up the hill, I was scared stiff,

shaking in my boots.

Zeb was standing a few feet from me when the shooting started.

I guess I was about the first one hit.

I went down. Next thing I knew,

Zeb was kneeling over me tying a tourniquet around my leg.

A red bandana, I'll never forget.

I kept trying to get up,

but he held me down saying, "Hang on, boy. Hang on."

And then, when the enemy fire slowed down,

he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder like a child.

And carried me all the way back to the base hospital.

The bullets were screaming around our ears.

Oh, Zeb.

We never got to the top of San Juan Hill,

but thanks to your granddad,

I came through the war alive.

Whatever happened to that red bandana?

Zeb, it's yours.

Grandpa's story of the charge up San Juan Hill

was different when he told it after that.

But in many ways, more satisfying to him

and to his listeners.

Just at dusk of that day,

Grandpa rode alone up Walton's Mountain.

Perhaps it was San Juan Hill he saw there in the sunset.

This time, there was only silence and peace.

And this time, he made it all the way to the top.

Get along, Blue.

I wrote my story for Adventure magazine,

but it was rejected with a terse note from the editor,

"Not interested in the Spanish-American War."

Ben, don't you feel good letting the fox go?

What am I gonna do for firecrackers on the fourth?

How about me? Pow-bang-bang-boom!

You wouldn't fool anyone.

Who's shooting off firecrackers this time of night?

See, I fooled Grandpa!

Old man, now don't you encourage their foolishness.

-You children go to sleep. -Okay. Goodnight.

-Goodnight. -Goodnight.

Boom!

Oh, good Lord!