“I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away,” Part One

Don’t Go to the Doctor; or
The Return of Ebenezer Sprague!

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: “I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away” [sic], Part One
Airdate: March 6, 1978
Written by Carole and Michael Raschella
Directed by William F. Claxton

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: Mary goes blind.

RECAP: Oh boy, are you ready for this one? Here we go!

We begin with an unusual opening. All the Grovester kids are playing Three O’Cat (or whatever) in front of the school, but that’s not the unusual part.

The unusual part is that their game is accompanied by “Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum” – the Little House on the Prairie closing theme!

As far as I can tell, this has only happened once before. Way back in the first Season One episode-proper, “A Harvest of Friends,” “Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum” was used to accompany a scene where Carrie’s pantaloons fell down. (Oh, Little House.)

[UPDATE: I love the readers of this blog. One named Madison points out that “Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum” was also used in the first part of “The Lord is My Shepherd,” although that time it was an interesting waltz arrangement rather than the standard one we’re used to. And another named Ben suggests that the end-credit music was used here because we have come to the end of the “School Days” era of the show, or, as I like to think of it, the Beadlemania years.]

Today’s title flashes up on the screen – in quotes.

(You know, I think I’ve finally figured out the pattern behind the quotation mark titles. One reader suggested it might be that in the quotation mark episodes, the title is actually spoken out loud. It’s a great theory, but unfortunately, it doesn’t work!)

(Here are all the “quotes” episodes so far. Please let me know if I missed any – I may have! I wasn’t necessarily paying attention to this in the early recaps.)

1. “‘Remember Me.'” This title is spoken aloud, it being the opening of a poem read in both parts of the story.
2. “‘I’ll Ride the Wind.'” Grace Snider says, “You’ll ride the wind one day, John,” but John never says “I’ll ride the wind.”
3. “My Ellen.” Eloise Taylor does say this several times, including in a song, presumably of her own composition.
4. “‘Meet Me at the Fair.'” Mary has arranged beforehand to meet Patrick at the Redwood County Fair, but that happened offscreen and we never hear anybody say this.
5. “‘Here Come the Brides.'” This phrase is never spoken, and seems just to be a play on a TV show with the same title. (I never watched it.)
6. “‘I Remember, I Remember.'” Nobody says “I remember, I remember” in the episode; in fact, no one says “I remember” at all! The title is in fact a reference to a famous poem called “I Remember, I Remember.”
7. “‘I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away.'” Well, you’ll have to wait and see about this one.

(Now, with the exception of “‘My Ellen,'” what do all these titles have in common besides the quotes? Well, they’re all full grammatical sentences, as opposed to all the others, which are either just nouns – “The Wolves,” or “The Monster of Walnut Grove,” e.g. – or fragments of phrases – “For My Lady,” “At the End of the Rainbow,” etc.)

(There’s only one other exception to this rule that I can find: “The Lord is My Shepherd,” which of course is a complete sentence, but does not appear in quotation marks. Probably they hadn’t thought things through that early in the series run.)

(I know I probably find this more interesting than you do, so thanks for indulging me. Now back to our tale.)

We’re viewing this scene from some little distance away – the camera must be on top of the Mercantile or someplace.

I can’t tell who everybody is, but most of the Season Four regular kids are there: both AEKs, the Gelfling Boy, the Midsommar Kid, Willie, Mary, Nellie, the Non-Binary Kid, the Kid with Very Red Hair (Mean One), the Smallest Nondescript Helen of Them All, Not-Linda Hunt, Not-Ellen Taylor, and Laura.

Not-Albert is also there for the first time in a while.

The Non-Binary Kid steps up to bat and hits a triple. Then Laura bats (the writers this week are the rascally Raschellas, by the way), and the music suddenly changes slightly.

DAGNY: Whoa, key change! Who does David think he is, Phil Collins?

Willie tags Laura out.

Nellie is reading on the steps, and Mary is idling nearby. “Mrs. Simms is nowhere in sight,” Mary says.

PEGGY: “Nowhere in sight.” Foreshadowing.

(I should mention, my sister Peggy joined us for this one.)

“Good!” says Nellie.

“It’s getting late,” says Mary, worriedly. “I guess I better ring the bell.”

These two prissy princesses hiss at each other a bit, but Mary rings the bell anyway.

DAGNY: I love Nellie’s boots.

Suddenly, Mrs. Oleson appears out of nowhere, crying out there’s no school for two weeks because Luke Simms has brought measles from Springfield, where there’s an epidemic.

Measles was a worldwide problem in the Nineteenth Century, though it seems people in the United States didn’t take it too seriously, as pretty much everybody got it and there was nothing you could do to prevent or cure it. However, many children did die of it, especially ones younger than five or so; one estimate from the early Twentieth Century suggested measles caused 1 percent of all deaths the world’s Temperate Zones (North America, Europe, China, etc.).

Measles was essentially eradicated after a vaccine for it was developed in the early 1960s. There have been occasional outbreaks since, including several this year, mainly because of anti-vaxxers – a population unfortunately on the rise, in this country at any rate.

Anyways, Mrs. O seems to be enjoying giving the kids the good news. I love when she’s nice.

We cut to a breathtaking shot of Plum Creek.

PEGGY: That’s a little over-landscaped to be believable.
WILL: It does look like a bit like Disney’s Jungle Cruise.

A young man we’ve never seen before is fishing. Laura appears with her own fishing pole, as David gives us some Bacharacharachian lounge music.

“Hi,” the young man says smoothly. “Ya gonna keep me company?”

ROMAN: He’s probably the Hero Township Strangler.

The guy scootches his ass over on the log he’s sitting on and says, “Why don’t you sit right here and tell me all about yourself.”

WILL: Wow, he’s cool with the lines. Ain’t that the way love’s supposed to be?

Laura sits down and says, “This is my favorite fishing hole.”

AMELIA [as THE YOUNG MAN, smoothly]: “Wanna know what my favorite hole is?”

Actually, he immediately bestows upon her a nickname: Brown Eyes.

WILL: Remember when you could give people fun nicknames without them screaming about violating their personal autonomy?

The young man says his family just moved to Walnut Grove. Practically breathing into Laura’s mouth, he introduces himself as Seth Barton.

DAGNY [singing]: “Since you been gone she’s been seeing that Amos boy, Seth.”
WILL: We’re gonna get complaints about too many Vicki Lawrence references.

“I can’t keep calling you Brown Eyes, can I,” Seth says, and Laura answers flirtatiously, “Well, you can if you want to.”

AMELIA: How old is he? He looks twenty-four.

Actually, the actor, Robert “Rob” Kenneally, was eighteen. He only appeared in one other thing, a biopic of Chuck Colson, a former Richard Nixon toady who went to prison and became a Christian talk show host.

I think the Colson film looks like a piece of glurge, but who knows? It costars Raymond St. Jacques – “The Fighter’s” L. Moody – so it can’t be all bad.

Today he is a successful Hollywood agent. (Robert Kenneally, that is, not Raymond St. Jacques or Chuck Colson.)

Anyways, Laura introduces herself, and we see Seth is putting a worm on the hook for her. “Now you see,” he says, “I always knew I’d have good luck at this fishing hole.”

“I don’t see any fish that you caught,” Laura says.

AMELIA: Do they EVER catch any fish on this show? I only see them put sticks in the water.

“No – but I found a friend, didn’t I?” Seth says, and smiles a dreamy smile.

DAGNY: God, he’s smooth.

On the way home, Laura tells Seth her nickname is Half-Pint, and they laugh gaily.

But when they reach the Little House, Mary appears from the chicken coop, and Seth’s tongue lolls out. (Well, not really, but he does start chewing his lips with lust.)

Laura introduces them. Seth mentions he’s working at the livery, and Laura name-drops our old pal Hans “Rubberface” Dorfler.

Then Seth immediately asks Mary if she’d like to go on a date. “I’d love to!” Mary coos, to Laura’s horror.

Laura stares bitterly after him when he leaves.

AMELIA: What happened to that kid Laura was dating? The one who fell in love with the lesbian?

That night at dinner, Mary mentions she’s studying to become a proper teacher. You’d think her experiences at Willow Prairie would have set her on another career path, but apparently not.

WILL: Don’t we have that pitcher?
DAGNY: Sort of. Ours has a dog on it.

Then Mary brings up Seth, and Laura accuses her of stealing him.

But that doesn’t really matter, because Mary has a strange headache she believes is from “studying too hard.” (With her, that’s actually possible.)

Cut to Mary and Seth frolicking in the hills. They topple to the ground, but don’t get any crazy ideas, they get right back up again.

Later, Laura stops by the livery to talk to Seth, but all he does is ask her to play messenger for him and Mary.

Then he calls her Brown-Eyes again – but patronizingly.

Then he adds insult to injury by addressing a horse as “Handsome” – proving nicknames have no special significance for him in the first place.

Then we cut to a cityscape featuring a First National Bank, Mrs. Leary’s, and the Grand Hotel. So this must be Sleepy Eye.

We soon see Mary is there being examined by an optometrist.

In a surprising piece of continuity, it’s Dr. Burke, the eye doctor from “Four Eyes” in Season Two! So he must have moved his practice? He was in Mankato before.

Dr. Burke, you’ll recall, is played by Ford Rainey, whom I’m sure you all remember as the drunken Dr. Frederick Mixter in Halloween II.

Dr. Mixter calls Pa in and tells them it’s just eye strain – nothing to worry about.

He says, “The eyesight will usually deteriorate slightly in the first year and then level off.” First of all, I’m not sure this is true, and second of all, she’s been wearing her glasses at least two and half years (and possibly more like thirty).

Dr. Mixter says a new pair of glasses will fix Mary up. He has her look into the “one, two” thing, which impresses Pa.

Back at home, Mary and Seth’s relationship escalates, as we see him leaving after dinner with the family.

The two sneak off to the barn in the dark.

WILL [singing]: Grab your lady by the arm!/Take her out behind the barn!

Seth says he’s not sure “Lara” likes him anymore.

AMELIA/OLIVE: “Lara”?

Then they both talk breathily and make out – which “Lara” sees from her bedroom window.

Laura hisses “I hate you, Mary Ingalls! I hate you!” Poor kid.

PEGGY: This is just like The Man in the Moon.
WILL: I don’t know that one.
PEGGY: Yes you do. With Reese Witherspoon.
WILL: . . . Oh my God, yes! Is there a swimming hole in it?
PEGGY: Yes.
WILL: And the two sisters?
PEGGY: Yes. And the tractor.

OLIVE: Actually, this is The Olive and Amelia Story.

The next day, presumably, Charles arrives at work, where he greets Carl the Flunky by name.

Mr. Hanson and Yonathan Garvey come out to greet Sharles.

Mr. Hanson is holding a newspaper, and he tells Sharles that the railroad barons are trying to destroy the Grange, which you’ll recall is like a farmers’ union. (See our “Times of Change” recap if you need a refresher on this conflict.)

Garvey says the trains are no longer stopping at Springfield or Sleepy Eye, a tactic to prevent the Grange farmers from trading.

That night, Pa broods over the newspaper, reading it again and again and gnashing his teeth.

WILL: That’s me when we get hate mail at Walnut Groovy.

Pa says the Grange is suing the railroads for illegal practices, but he doesn’t have much hope for the case.

Meanwhile, Ol’ Four Eyes – excuse me, I mean Mary – is bent over with her nose in a book. Literally.

The paper, we see, is the Springfield Clarion.

When Pa questions Mary’s posture, Mary says her new glasses are just as bad as the old ones. I hate when that happens.

Pa says he’ll take her back to Dr. Mixter again, and then Baby Grace cries. If you’re like me, you had forgotten her existence already.

ALEXANDER: Is Mary going blind because she made out with somebody?

WILL: Actually, they used to tell kids that masturbating would make them go blind.

Back in Sleepy Eye – obviously Dr. M did move his practice, since they seem to be traveling back and forth pretty quickly – Mary is examined again.

Dr. Mixter says, “Good thing you didn’t come in last week – I was down with a sore throat.”

WILL: What does that have to do with anything?
AMELIA: He probably coughs in her face and they had to add a line to explain it.

Actually, Dr. M uses this charming anecdote as a segue to ask if Mary’s ever had any serious illnesses. She tells him about getting kicked by the horse.

She says the operation she had was “even worse than when I had scarlet fever.” Dr. Mixter looks up in alarm.

Okay, scarlet fever. This is a disease that’s essentially been cured by modern medicine. People still get it – Roman did when he was about three, as we’ve mentioned before – but today it’s easily treated with antibiotics.

Named for the red rash sufferers develop, and most often contracted by children, the disease had about a 25 percent mortality rate before adequate treatment was developed.

It also could cause terrible complications in those who survived. You name it, really: skin, ears, sinuses, heart, kidneys, brain . . . practically every part of the body could be susceptible to further infections.

Mary says her bout of scarlet F happened “a long time ago,” but Dr. Mixter suddenly says he’d like to have a private conversation with Charles.

Mary goes out into the hall, where Pa sits under a famous lithograph from 1865 called The Champions of Liberty that depicts George Washington and Abe Lincoln.

Pa goes in. He quickly realizes something is wrong when Dr. M asks him to sit.

The doctor asks a couple questions, then says Mary’s optic nerves were irretrievably damaged by her scarlet fever.

“Mr. Ingalls,” he says, “Mary is going blind.”

AMELIA: This doctor is pretty good.
WILL: Yeah. Like I said, he’s in Halloween II.
DAGNY: Only the best.

Now, before we continue with this scene, I want to get the science and history out of the way so we can just enjoy the story. While as I said, scarlet fever could cause very serious complications, one thing it probably did not do is make people go blind.

People believed that it did, though; in fact, it was considered a primary cause of blindness at the time these stories are set. I don’t know why.

Mary Ingalls was a real person, of course, who really did go blind after contracting scarlet fever. The real Laura Ingalls Wilder writes in By the Shores of Silver Lake:

Mary and Carrie and baby Grace and Ma had all had scarlet fever. Far worst of all, the fever had settled in Mary’s eyes and Mary was blind.

For more than seven decades, this was the official explanation for Mary’s condition, even after research established that the connection between scarlet fever and blindness was dubious. (“‘I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away’” did much to cement this version of events in the public imagination.)

However, in 2013, researchers Sarah S. Allexan, Dr. Beth A. Tarini, and others published a fascinating study that examined Wilder’s notes and letters and found she had condensed events to simplify the story.

Mary did get scarlet fever, all right, in 1872, but when she went blind seven years later, it was after a serious “brain fever” – today thought to be viral meningoencephalitis, a horrible illness that can cause cognitive and behavior issues, pain, seizures, hearing loss, and, yes, blindness. (Interestingly, this condition can occur as a complication of the measles, which seems like a crazy coincidence, doesn’t it?)

Well, the reason Wilder rolled Mary’s scarlet F and viral M-E into one was that at the time Silver Lake was published in 1939, scarlet fever was still well-known and feared as a cause of blindness by the public. Wilder felt this explanation would be believable and would resonate with her audience.

Anyways, it’s a great study, so check it out, Bonnetheads.

That out of the way, back to our story.

Pa looks at the doctor in disbelief. His eyes water slightly, and he bites his lip, which starts to tremble. Finally he stammers, “There must be some mistake” as an English horn honks mournfully in the orchestra.

But Dr. Mixter is firm.

WILL: This is like in “The Brain of Morbius” when Solon tells the Doctor Sarah is permanently blinded, but he’s lying.

“No,” Charles says suddenly, and stands up. He says Mary is training to be a teacher, and that he simply doesn’t accept this diagnosis.

“She hasn’t got much time left,” the doctor says. “She’ll desperately need your help and support.”

Pa covers his mouth in horror.

PEGGY: This is just the optometrist? Shouldn’t she get an opinion from a real doctor?

Then Mixter pulls a magnifying glass out of a drawer and says, “This . . . might help for a while.”

Charles turns around suddenly and says, “You’re wrong” – but he takes the magnifier anyway.

Then he throws open the door and says cheerfully to Mary, “Well, that didn’t take long, did it!”

Mary asks what the doctor said, and Pa answers, “Well, he said it’s just eye strain, and gave me a little glass that will help you. Rest your eyes, you’ll be feeling fine soon.”

I believe positive thinking is genuinely beneficial for health outcomes, but there are limits to its powers, unfortunately.

“Thank you again, Doctor!” Pa calls and leads Mary out before Mixter can answer.

Back in Walnut Grove, then, we see Pa out at the Serious Conversation Place, alone.

Ma comes out, all unawares and smiling. This is apparently the same day they returned from Sleepy Eye.

She snuzzles up to Pa, and he says, “Honey . . . I want to talk to you.”

“What about?” Ma says.

“Just about . . . Mary’s eyes,” Pa says nervously. We rarely see him this nervous.

I’ll give you the next bit verbatim:

MA: You and Mary said it was just eye strain.
PA: I know. . . . I didn’t say anything to Mary about it. . . . but . . . Dr. Burke thinks that . . . that they’re going to get a little bit worse.

In the gallery, we all held our breath at this – the understatement of Season Four.

MA: Oh. . . . How much worse?
PA: . . . He, uh, thinks . . . [He begins panting and looking around desperately.]
MA [alarmed]: What?
PA: . . . he thinks that she’s, uh, gonna be blind.

Ma starts to scream, and Pa suddenly grabs her and crushes her tight to him.

Caroline begins sobbing, and Charles insists, unconvincingly, that the diagnosis is wrong.

Whew. Quite a scene. Next we find ourselves watching a wagon coming down the driveway in daytime, as the Chonkies stare.

WILL: Wow . . . the Chonkies look pretty swaybacked, don’t they? I never noticed that before.

It’s Jonathan Garvey, who catches Charles in the yard and asks why he didn’t come to the Grange meeting the previous night. After the crazy stunt he pulled in Chicago, I’m surprised Chuck is still a member, truthfully.

Charles said he’s been feeling ill, and Garvey comments he’s been that way for “a couple weeks.”

Garvey says the news from the meeting was pretty dire. “Some folks is goin’ belly-up already,” he says, and then he adds: “Sprague’s putting the bank up for sale.”

A moment, please.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

A year ago, we were told that Ebenezer Sprague, Laura’s banker “best friend,” had left town without warning on account of monsoons that destroyed the local economy. I’ve spent the past year complaining about it, in fact!

However, we recently had signs that something weird was going on in Walnut Grove’s financial sector. In “The Inheritance,” there were no fewer than four references to “the banker,” though Sprague was not specifically named.

And now we’re told he’s been here all along, and is only just leaving now?

Well, this is clearly the fault of the writers, but it seems evident now that, while he was never seen or mentioned, Mr. Sprague in fact did return to reopen Walnut Grove’s bank at some point after “Gold Country.” Could it have been as early as “Castoffs,” set a year after the rains, when financial stability seemed to have returned to Groveland? (Except for Kezia.)

I don’t think so, since in “The Fighter,” Charles had to take Joe Kagan to Springfield to get a bank loan to set up his own farm. (Where the hell has Kagan been, by the way? That was eleven stories ago.)

I suppose it’s possible Sprague was a racist and that’s why Charles had to take Kagan elsewhere for the loan. (This is the historical likelihood, unfortunately; and I don’t think they would have fared much better in Springfield, either.)

But I prefer to think Sprague returned sometime in between that story and “The Inheritance,” presumably making amends with his old friends for his unannounced departure.

If that’s so, I owe the man a sincere apology – which is fine by me, since I always liked him. And while he’s leaving town again now, at least he’s giving the Grovesters adequate warning of the fact.

But never mind all that now. Charles nominally participates in this conversation, but he’s obviously disengaged and abruptly terminates it.

Garvey looks after him with consternation.

DAGNY: I like that his hat is different from everybody else’s.
WILL: Yeah, they do a good job with that.

He drives off.

WILL: LOOK at that Chonky’s back! And what happened to the roof of the barn?

Also of note: Cow the cow has had a calf, which we shall call “Calf.”

That night, or some night, Charles is working on something in the barn when Caroline comes in.

CHARLES: Women’s work done?
PEGGY: [gasps theatrically]

But Caroline says she just thought she’d “come out here and be lazy with you.”

“What do you mean, lazy?” Charles says mildly. “I’m refinishing this shutter.”

WILL: Did he just say “I’m refinishing this shitter”?
PEGGY: It does have a hole.
ROMAN: I think that’s a shadow.

Charles notes it’s been three weeks since they got back from Sleepy Eye. He stops pretending to work and says, “She’s getting worse, isn’t she.”

“Yes,” Caroline says matter-of-factly.

Right on cue, we hear glass breaking from inside the Little House.

ROMAN: Oh, did Doc Baker come for a visit and break a jar?

“Pa, fire!” Laura screams from inside.

And sure enough, they rush in to find one of the common room chairs engulfed in flame. Laura’s about to douse it with water, but Pa stops her.

Mary just stares at the fire stupidly, but Pa pulls the burning chair out of the house and Ma extinguishes the fire with a blanket.

“I’m sorry,” Mary says when Pa returns, but he just sort of chuckles and says, “That’s all right, no harm done!”

DAGNY: Oh boy, she’s gonna know something is really wrong. Can you imagine if you set the house on fire and your dad WASN’T MAD?

I can’t. In fact, I did once set the house on fire, or rather my friend Greg did. When we were in high school, his parents went to Vegas for the weekend, leaving him alone for the first time.

He had a few friends over one night – we were all big nerds, hardly a wild crowd – and Greg decided he would do a little deep-frying.

I know in retrospect this sounds like a bad idea, though if I remember right the mozzie sticks were delicious.

The cooking itself came off without incident, but the burner was left on. Greg believes he turned the knob too far when he turned it off.

And when we heard the smoke detector, we rushed in to find the whole fucking kitchen wall in flames.

We did manage to put the fire out before it burned through the ceiling, but the entire house was smoke-damaged and everything needed to be replaced. Even then, it smelled like a campfire for, like, a year.

We called the fire department first, and then his parents. I couldn’t hear exactly what Greg’s dad said to him, but I am 100-percent certain it wasn’t “That’s all right, no harm done!” I doubt he chuckled, either.

Eventually Greg’s mom took the phone and told us to go to the movies and let the firemen make sure everything was safe. We went to see L.A. Story, if I recall. It was hard to concentrate on it after the excitement; but I’ve seen it again since, and we didn’t miss much.

Anyways, Mary tells Ma and Pa that she knocked a lamp over because “it seemed so dark in here.”

Ma takes her aside and calmly says, “I think you’ve been working too much.” Charles just goes away to some terrifying place in his own head.

Realizing something is very wrong with their reaction, Mary says uncertainly, “I am sorry.”

WILL: To be fair, she did this when she could see, too.

Pa repeats that it’s no problem whatsoever, and says Mary should go get some rest.

Meanwhile, Ma asks Laura to get a mop, and she says, “Me again? Mary gets to do anything she wants, and I have to do all the work?”

Pa turns savagely on Laura and snarls, “Your mother told you to get a mop!” We all gasped.

Shocked into silence, Laura runs out, and Ma sends Carrie back to bed.

DAGNY: Why isn’t the baby crying? And why didn’t Ma grab the baby when she saw the fire? That’s the first thing she would have done.
WILL: They don’t do that on this show. We’re lucky THIS baby didn’t burn to death.

Then Ma and Pa stand in the doorway and essentially pick up where they left the conversation. Pa says he’s got to tell Mary the truth tomorrow.

PEGGY: And apologize to that doctor.
WILL: Eh, I’m sure he gets that all the time. Plus, he probably thinks of Charles as a stupid farmer and was only half-listening to what he said anyway.

Then he walks out into the night.

DAGNY: They’re really acting like it’s the end of the world. I wonder if this story makes disability advocates throw stuff at their TV.

Soon we see where he’s gone: the church.

He sits in the front row, bright light shining down on him from above. Did Reverend Alden install a sun roof?

Speaking of Aldi, the man himself suddenly materializes. What’s he doing there? He can’t have been sleeping, because there are no other rooms. (If there’s a church basement, I’m sure we would have seen it many times by now.)

In fact, it was established some time ago that he actually stays with generous Grovesters whenever he’s in town.

In “Plague,” he’s said to be staying at Amy Hearn’s place. (Unmentioned since “Remember Me,” she’s surely dead by now. By my reckoning, she’d be at least 115 if not.)

And in “The Collection” the Edwards-Snider-Sandersons were preparing to host him, but plans had to be revised when he was kidnapped by Johnny Cash. (This show.)

Anyways, the Rev is fully dressed, so obviously he didn’t just wake up on the floor.

Alden says Doc Baker told him the news about Mary.

PEGGY: So much for doctor/patient confidentiality.
AMELIA: HIPAA! HIPAA!
WILL: Oh, Doc’s the biggest gossip in town.

Like the good shepherd he (sometimes) is, Aldi tries to offer Charles words of comfort.

DAGNY: Aldi’s nose again. The lighting is amazing. Landon?
WILL: No, Clax!
DAGNY: Oh, wow.

Rev. Alden says, “God must have chosen Mary for some very special purpose.”

Charles replies not with anger, but deep bitterness instead, and walks out.

WILL: Reverend Alden should lose his faith and go open a saloon.

By the way, Charles mentions in this scene that Mary is fifteen. Just making note of that for future reference.

The next day, Pa finds Mary sitting in the sun and using her magnifying glass to read.

ALEXANDER: Is she gonna set the book on fire?

Mary sees well enough to know Pa looks like someone told him there’s no Santa.

She says the railroad wars are taking their toll on the community.

“We can always make do,” Pa replies noncommittally. “Don’t have to worry about that.”

Troubled by this neutral response, Mary asks what’s wrong.

Pa suddenly touches her face, says, “I wanted to . . .” and then cuts off, grimacing in anguish.

PEGGY: What happened to Seth?
WILL: You think he would be there for this conversation?

Pa starts and stops a few times, then blurts out “It was the scarlet fever, and it weakened the nerves in your eyes.”

Mary asks what happens next. Pa shudders for about twenty minutes, then says Dr. Mixter “thinks you’re gradually going to lose your sight.”

David Rose seizes the opportunity for a harp glissando followed by alarm blasts from the horn section.

Mary screws up her face and says, “Blind? I’m going to be blind?”

The two of them weep together, then Mary runs off.

PEGGY: He’s very good.

WILL: Oh, he’s great.

OLIVE: Yeah, but look at his nose.

DAGNY: That’s how you can tell he’s really crying. No glue tears necessary for him.

ROMAN: Yeah. Acting with his snot!

DAGNY: He should run after her screaming “Mary! Mary!” like George Bailey.
AMELIA: Yeah. Was Jimmy Stewart ever on this show? He would have been great.
WILL: He would have made a good Lansford.

Then we see Laura has been eavesdropping behind a tree. She runs off as the music swells.

WILL [singing cheerfully]: Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum . . . Bum-Ba-Dum . . .

But no, we ain’t done yet.

After a break, we see Seth has returned to town. He finds Jonathan Garvey at the Mill, and asks what happened to Hans Dorfler.

OLIVE: I can’t wait for my man Adam to come on. I like how it’s back-to-back smokin’ hot Mary love interests.

ROMAN: Do you think she pictures Adam as Seth, since he was the last handsome man she saw?

Garvey tells him the whole town’s shutting down, including the Mill.

But when Seth cheerfully says he’s going to pay the Ingallses a visit, Garvey realizes he doesn’t know about Mary. He gently breaks the news.

DAGNY: For a non-actor, Merlin Olsen does a terrific job.
AMELIA: Yeah. And Mr. Edwards left big shoes to fill.

It’s true. He even makes the line “She’s a-losin’ her sight” sound natural.

Seth runs off crazily.

Then we see Garvey driving up the hill where Freddie’s buried. (Jack too, I think.)

(Notice the trees are bare in this image. I won’t bore you with the details, but I believe this episode covers something like six months – say, May through November – in 1881-G. We’re probably into October by this scene. Early for trees to have lost their leaves, but maybe it was super-windy one day.)

Garvey finds Charles sitting on a stump or stone, staring at nothing.

Garvey says the Mill’s closed down, but Charles doesn’t really care. He says, “Couple of weeks ago, if you’d have told me the Mill was shut down, Grange was collapsin’, I’d be the most upset man you ever saw. Now I don’t even care. It doesn’t mean a thing. I just wonder – how much of our lives are spent worrying about things that just don’t mean anything?”

DAGNY: Well, you could just as easily argue that Mary going blind doesn’t mean anything either. You know, like Camus.
WILL: I’m really glad Garvey does NOT make that argument here.

AMELIA: Plus, he should still care about work. Without it, he won’t be able to pay the eye doctor.
PEGGY: Taking her to that doctor didn’t help at all. They would have figured out she was blind anyway, plus they had to pay for a pair of glasses they don’t need.
WILL: Two pairs.

Charles rises and departs, saying, “I’ll see ya.”

PEGGY: Time to stop using THAT expression.

AMELIA: Seriously, I feel like they should give Charles one eff bomb per episode.
WILL: If they made it today, they would. Look what they did to The Handmaid’s Tale.

Back at the Little House, it’s the next morning, and Laura and Carrie are removing a jar of urine from the table.

Suddenly from the loft, Mary screams, “No, Pa! Help me! Come help me, Pa! Help me!”

Pa rushes up and embraces her; and she screams, “Help me! Pa, I can’t see! I can’t see! Hold me. . . . Hold me. . . . It’s dark! I’m scared, Pa! Hold me! It’s so dark. . . .”

Downstairs, Ma’s eyes well with tears.

But Mary can’t stop screaming. “IT’S TOO DARK!” she goes on. “I – I CAN’T BREATHE!”

WILL: The camera should back away and she’s inside a crystal ball and Miss Peel is watching and cackling.

Back to town, Carl drives over the bridge, and we see the Chonkywagon parked in front of Doc’s office.

OLIVE: Oh, what’s Doc gonna do?

Ma tells Doc Mary has fallen into a deep depression.

PEGGY: My living room is that exact same color.

Doc says Mary needs to learn to be as functional as possible. “You do too much [for her],” he says, “and she’ll retreat to bed. And she’ll stay there.”

Doc tells them about a school for the blind in Burton, Iowa. (This is a fictional place. The actual school Mary Ingalls attended was in a Vinton, Iowa – about 285 miles from Walnut Grove.)

(Originally called the Iowa College for the Blind, it later became known as the Iowa Braille and Sight Saving School. It operated from 1852 to 2011, when it began to be phased out. It closed for good in 2020.)

Ma and Pa struggle with the decision, but ultimately choose to send Mary there. How will they pay for it, I wonder?

WILL: They should have a new character come to town who’s a baker, and they call him Baker Doctor. Both played by Kevin Hagen.

Back at home, Mary sits in Ma’s chair in her nightgown, and we see they moved a bed (Carrie’s) into the common room, presumably so Mary doesn’t have to monkey around on the ladder.

David gives us “quietly psychopathic” music on the piano.

Laura offers to get Mary anything she wants, and says changing out of her pajamas might make her feel better. “No!” Mary shouts.

Then Laura offers to brush Mary’s hair.

PEGGY: That’s a nice touch, that they made her hair stringy.

Mary refuses, but Laura says they might have company. “Who’s gonna come by? Seth?” Mary asks sharply.

Ma comes in, and Laura makes a Mary’s-being-a-turd face.

DAGNY: Oh, this is great, now they can make faces behind Mary’s back.
WILL: Yeah! Think how many times they must have wished they could!

Ma sits down and tells Mary about the plan. She doesn’t receive the news very well.

She accuses them of wanting to get rid of her, then begs them not to send her away.

Summoning all her strength, Ma says, “Mary, you can’t spend the rest of your life sitting in that chair.”

“Why not?” Mary snaps back. “Why not? Why can’t I just sit here?”

But Ma tells her the decision is made, and gets up.

WILL: The principals are all good in this. Although, where’s Carrie?

After the final commercial break, we see Seth Barton working at Dorfler’s livery. I thought it was closed?

We see Laura there, confronting Seth about how he hasn’t been out to see Mary since she went, well, you know.

AMELIA: Is he gonna be a man about this, or a worm?
DAGNY: Oh, a worm, totally.

She’s right, he is.

Laura begs him to visit Mary, then runs off angrily.

OLIVE: Was suddenly running away a common response to problems in the 1800s? It’s like the sixth time it’s happened in this episode.

Well, then Seth does go out there.

Mary sits up on her bed, smiling.

Seth makes weak excuses about having been busy lately.

Mary chirps, “I’ve been busy too! I’m going to Iowa! I’m going to school there a while, until this nuisance with my eyes clears up.”

Mary rises then, thanks him for coming, and falls over a chair.

Seth catches her, but she screams, “Leave me alone! Get out, just get out!”

And he does.

AMELIA: That was intense.
WILL: Yeah. It didn’t go very well.
PEGGY: Mary gets dumped hard. She probably should have stayed sitting down.
DAGNY: Yeah. Or moved the other chair before he arrived.
ROMAN: At least she didn’t set the house on fire again.

Then we see Jonathan Garvey getting the poor swaybacked Chonkies ready for the trip to Iowa. The cover on the wagon is up.

Pa brings Mary out and lifts her into the back of the wagon. Ma hands her the carpetbag.

Ma and Laura say goodbye then. Mary’s attitude remains crummy.

Pa embraces Ma and says, “We’re doing the right thing.”

He climbs onto the driver’s seat with Garvey (is he going along?).

They head on up the driveway, and that, my friends, is that. BUM-BUM-BA-DUM!

STYLE WATCH: Charles appears to go commando again.

THE VERDICT:

PEGGY: Moral of the story: Don’t go to the doctor.

We’ll reserve our judgment until the conclusion of Part Two, but I will just say Melissa Sue Anderson is amazing in this one. See you soon.

UP NEXT: “I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away,” Part Two