Baldwin Sisters: How They Delight and Annoy Me
Fleshing out cross-generational characters distinguishes The Waltons from other programs. In addition to Grandpa Zeb and Grandma Esther, the elderly Baldwin Sisters, Miss Mamie and Miss Emily, pepper the mountain life. Though they grew up in the 19th century, they clash with the “old spinsters” stereotype.
Between the two sisters, I prefer Miss Emily (played by Mary Jackson). Through her legendary lost love Ashely Longworth, we see the contours of her life. In an otherwise humdrum existence, her torch for this man lights up the world. I smile as I hear his name in most of her conversations. It speaks to the “what could have been” fantasy many of us ignite when life lets us down.
Introducing Mr. Longworth’s son in season 7, Ashely Longworth Jr. (Jonathan Frakes), seams the mystery of one who got away. To me, this entails one of the most satisfying storylines. We learn that despite having married someone else, the senior Longworth loved Emily and expressed his affections in a deathbed love letter. I applaud the producers for elongating the arc with Ashley Junior falling in love with Erin. They might has well have softened junior’s character and wed him to Erin. But like the senior Ashley and Emily, “it was never meant tome be.”
As for Miss Emily’s other half, Miss Mamie, she compliments her sister, but otherwise lacks depth. The more sensible one, Miss Mamie tempers Miss Emily’s romanticism. We don’t know much about her aspirations or passions. That said, entwined with Miss Emily, Miss Mamie completes the sisterly act. Without Miss Mamie, Miss Emily might have been too unrealistic or even bitter. We do see a Miss Mamie take the lead on making “The Recipe,” the moonshine whisky and major emblem.
During the nine seasons, we vicariously get to know ladies’ father, the Judge. He ran a strict household, provided for his daughters, and home schooled them. The show alludes to Judge Baldwin’s trysts, but this storyline does not flesh out. I would have loved to see an illegitimate sibling (or grandchild) arrive at the ladies’ doorstep, but the show rarely indulged much in such convolutions.
Despite the sisters’ deep roots in the area and high-class upbringing, they sometimes lack empathy. In Season 1’s “An Easter Story,” when Olivia contracts polio, the sisters gift her a wheelchair. Well-intended, Olivia finds offense to this as she tells them she doesn’t need it. Personally, I cringed with this gesture, wishing to tell them: “look, the wheelchair symbolizes tragedy to Olivia, so don’t rub it in.” Several seasons later, when Elizabeth fractures her legs in “The Ordeal,” the sisters give her a pony. When it arrives and Aimee Godsey rides it, Elizabeth tears up, fearing permanent paralysis. I want to say: “come on ladies, be more sensitive. Though you don’t mean it, your gift belittles Elizabeth by eliciting her fear.”
In sum, the Baldwin sisters enliven the series and I enjoyed seeing them in the reunion episodes as well. Sadly, I ruminate their eventual fate. Who might have died first? How did the surviving sister cope? Then I give myself closure thinking that one of the Waltons (Jason, perhaps) took her in until she perished, carrying the legacy forward.
