There’s No Place Like Home, Part Two

A Winner Don’t Quit on Themselves, Mr. Hanson; or

Little House: The Final Yourney

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: There’s No Place Like Home, Part Two

Airdate: October 16, 1978

Written by Michael Landon

Directed by William F. Claxton

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: The three families return to Walnut Grove to find Mr. Hanson dying.

RECAP: Last time, I noted this story’s “halves” are so independent of each other, it’s barely a true two-parter.

Nevertheless, we begin with a long previously-on. I won’t go through it for you, though I do encourage you to read last week’s recap (an even longer previously-on).

I will mention, in the clip where Mr. Standish fires Jonathan Garvey, I spotted the Alamo Tourist from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure behind them. I missed him last time. 

(I mean I missed him as in I didn’t notice him, not as in “Whatever shall I do? The Alamo Tourist from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure wasn’t in this one!”)

Well, we open in the Winoka streets with somber music on the soundtrack.

Given what happened last time, we find the Saloon not burnt to the ground as we’d expect, but in remarkably good shape.

The production team has set a few smoldering boards in the street to suggest the aftermath of a fire, as well as the (notably unburned) wheel of fortune.

I think the damage would be far more apparent from the outside of the building. But of course, they couldn’t really burn down Old Tucson or wherever they filmed this, so I guess implied damage was the best we could hope for.

Karl Swenson gets “Guest Star” status in this one. (I don’t much like the sound of that.)

The music blossoms into an epic arrangement of the main theme, and we see the Winokans going about their daily business. 

I have to take my hat off to all the extras (and horses!) in this story cycle. There have been a lot of them, and they really did create the feel of a bustling city. I’m sure it was hard to wrangle them all, and I’m also sure they had to endure a lot of tedious standing around and the like. I love extras, especially on this show. (I’m sure you’re all shocked by this.)

Charles comes walking up the boardwalk. 

Ope, here’s Herbert Diamond as well.

And here’s the Alamo Tourist again! (Okay, maybe I did miss him a little.)

And the French Maitre D’!

While Part One was both written and directed by Michael Landon, he’s handed off directing duties to Clax this time. It’s unusual to switch directors in a two-parter, but it has happened once before (with “Bunny” and “The Race,” another pairing that works fine as standalone stories).

Inside the Dakota, the Garveys, Laura and Baby Grace, and Nels are having breakfast in the (empty) restaurant.

Last time, Jonathan Garvey said he was planning to leave by 6 a.m. I’m not sure the streets would be jam-packed if it’s really that early.

Ma brings out some coffee, naturally, and tuts Laura for asking Nels how much he won gambling the night before.

Nursing his hangover, Nels says he has no idea. Given how drunk he was, I doubt he even remembers much of what happened.

Nels says Harriet has taken charge of his winnings, and in fact went to a dressmaker’s store at 5 a.m. to demand to shop before they depart.

OLIVE: Andy Garvey’s hair is long.

(So, we watched this one a few weeks ago, before our little Olive went back to college.)

Nels says he can’t wait to go fishing when they get back to Hero Township. (We’ve seen his enthusiasm for the sport a couple times before.)

Pa comes in, saying he’s done his exit interview with Miles Standish and is ready to go. So the restaurant just won’t open today, I assume? 

Ma confirms it is actually “almost six o’clock.” I suppose it’s possible the Winokans all got up early just to gawp at the saloon carnage.

Ma says she’ll do up the dishes and then they can go. Why would she bother? Standish was such a mean greedy unethical asshole, I wouldn’t do squat for him, myself. She’s a better person than I am, and then some.

She and Pa adjourn to the kitchen, Ma humming tunelessly to herself. (My mom does this when she’s happy too.)

Ma laughs, “Carrie was so excited about going home, she wet the bed last night!”

DAGNY: Poor Carrie. There’s no humiliation they won’t put her through, is there?

It is surprising, given Michael Landon experienced this issue as a teen himself, and was publicly shamed for it by his own mother. (See The Loneliest Runner.)

Caroline chatters away about the trip, saying, “Do you think Dr. Baker will have left?”

But Charles isn’t listening, and answers noncommittally when Ma gets his attention.

WILL [as CHARLES]: “Oh, who cares?”

Ma assumes Pa’s worrying about leaving Mary, but Pa says that’s in the past. “Talking to her last night,” he says, “I felt like I was the child and she was the parent.” (Ha! Didn’t I say the same thing?)

Still, he’s clearly troubled by something.

DAGNY: Who’s he worried about saying goodbye to?

WILL: Albert.

DAGNY: Oh. I thought maybe it was the fat handyman.

Pa confirms it’s Albert he’s worried about, not the fat handyman.

“Does he know we’re leaving?” Ma asks, and Pa says, “Yeah, Andy told him.” Apparently this was after the fireworks “show” last night. 

Pa says he tried to talk to Albert himself, but the kid took off, supposedly to take care of Toby Noe.

Unhappy Ma says they can’t leave without saying goodbye. She says stop pretending to care about the dishes and go get him already, Charles.

As Charles leaves, Mrs. Oleson and the kids come back from shopping. She’s wearing a new plaid dress and an absurd hat, and Nellie and Willie are holding stacks of boxes from the store.

(Nellie’s presence in Winoka has largely been wasted, but some better stories for her are coming up.)

Meanwhile, outside Albert’s coffin factory, there’s a face I never thought we’d see again if there were a million episodes of this show. (And there are.)

It’s Wiggins, the crazy old harmonica player from “The High Cost of Being Right”!

He’s also playing the harmonica here, so presumably he must have played it in real life. 

I say Wiggins, but we never were able to definitively ID this character. He looks like a Wiggins, though.

Whoever he is, what he’s playing onscreen is not the tune on the soundtrack.

It’s not even close, in fact. 

It’s a really strange effect; or perhaps I mean a strange affect; or a combination.

So then we see Charles crawling into Albert’s man cave.

Toby Noe has gone, and Albert’s on his “bed” facing away from the “front door.”

DAGNY: It’s like that movie with the old people under the house again.

WILL: That one really stuck with you, huh?

Albert is not asleep, but pouting. 

Pa says they thought he might have come over to say goodbye. 

But Albert just sniffs “Have a good trip” without looking around. He’s clearly down in the dumps, like Kieran Culkin in The Cider House Rules when Homer says he’s leaving the orphanage.

Pa sadly leaves; and then we get another shot of Old Man Wiggins (?) that’s synched even worse than the first one. 

Seriously, you’d think it’s a medical emergency from his bobbing and thrashing out of time to the music. 

For the first time, I’m noticing a sign over the factory door. The name seems to be Underground! Kind of whimsical branding for a casket manufacturer; but people in the funeral biz can be a little odd, in my experience.

Well, back at the hotel everyone loads up the wagons. 

WILL: Who’s going to check out the departing guests now?

DAGNY: It’s just like Schitt’s Creek. They never have guests there either.

I suppose Mr. Thoms could do it, but we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since the Ingallses were hired.

Jonathan Garvey is carrying two carpetbags. One is the standard-issue “blotchy” design owned by everyone in Walnut Grove, and the other is identical to John Bevins’s, which I suppose means it’s the only model sold in Winoka.

Pa arrives back and reports he couldn’t persuade Albert to come say goodbye.

Ma follows him inside. (She gets a great moment here, so pay attention.)

Pa says he knows Albert will be okay, but he can tell how deeply hurt he is by them leaving.

Ma says, Oh, don’t be such an idiot, Chuck, just go and get him and we’ll take him home with us. (Paraphrase.)

Pa goes through the motions of saying why that doesn’t make sense, noting the Ing-Gals wouldn’t get the attention (Pa-ttention?) they’re used to.

Ma says, quite correctly, “I think sometimes men tell their womenfolk that things wouldn’t be fair to them because they don’t want to shoulder the responsibility themselves.” 

But she adds that he can choose to leave the kid behind, “if you don’t think you can handle it.”

I love how she plays him like a fake fiddle in this scene. As she knew he would, Pa suddenly breaks and gushes how Albert would be no trouble at all, could even help out on the farm, etc., etc.! 

(Actually, as you all know, if they hadn’t brought Albert back to Walnut Grove there are a number of very bad things that presumably never would have happened.) 

(But we can’t think like that, friends.)

Pa plants one on Ma then, and rushes out.

OLIVE: Big smooch for that. Popcorn night.

WILL: Walnut Grove’s economy tanked so hard they left town, and now they’re adopting another child?

OLIVE: Well, they’re in better financial shape now. They just lost Mary. Her glasses alone probably took half their income for the year.

DAGNY: Yeah. Plus her blind school tuition.

WILL: And her kicked-by-a-horse medical bills.

Under the porch, Pa tells Albert to get his ass out of “bed.”

A schmaltzy oboe plays Albert’s theme on the soundtrack. David knows how to bring home a point.

Pa notices the kid is bleary-eyed, but Albert insists it’s a cold, not tears. (Faking Illness!)

Pa then asks Albert to come along with them. He couches this as a “deal,” saying he needs a farmhand and would provide room and board as payment.

DAGNY: That’s a good tactic.

WILL: Yeah. Landon is really good in this one, isn’t he?

Albert accepts, but says he won’t sacrifice his independence just because he’s employed by the family.

Pa agrees with Albert’s terms and says, “See you in front of the hotel in five minutes!”

When he’s gone, Albert gives a little whoop of joy and starts packing.

OLIVE: Can you just tip an oil lamp over and stick it in a bag?

DAGNY: No.

WILL: Albert could use some basic training in fire safety.

Back at the hotel, Mary and Adam have shown up with an assortment of blind kids, who line up very properly in a nicely composed shot.

Pa returns, and Adam says the children have prepared a little musical number for the occasion.

OLIVE [singing]: “So long! Farewell! Auf Wiedersehen, goodbye!”

The students have a gift for the Ingallses as well: a lucky horseshoe. I didn’t realize they got all that close to Mary’s family.

Adam, who we know has had musical training (since he said he could give Mary piano lessons), blows a pitch pipe, and the kids begin.

They sing “Keep the Horseshoe Over the Door,” a real song that’s actually mentioned in By the Shores of Silver Lake. 

The song was written by a Joseph P. Skelly, whose most famous composition might be “A Boy’s Best Friend is His Mother.” (A song memorably quoted in Psycho.)

“Keep the Horseshoe” was published in 1880, so it works just fine with our timeline.

WILL: They just decided to leave last night. We’re supposed to believe Adam had time to teach them this song and rehearse it with them?

DAGNY: Sure. It’s already 6:30 a.m., love.

(By the way, behind the kids is The Palace, which in an early recap we said might be a hotel. But now we can see it’s a theater, as it advertises a “caravan show” – i.e., circus performers – presented by a Thomas Somebody-Or-Other, and featuring someone else named Alice Healy, though I can’t make out her specific talent because the print it too small. Acrobat? Contortionist? Bearded lady?)

(Also, I think the kid closest to the poster is Not-Quincy Fusspot from good old Walnut Grove. Sad that he went blind too.)

Anyways, the teachers join the chorus themselves. Adam is a fine singer.

And Mary is, well, not. (If only Granville Whipple had lived!)

Adam and Pa shake hands.

OLIVE: Bae.

Pa embraces Mary then, and they both sob. This family has cry-offs the way some families play badminton in the yard for fun. 

DAGNY: What if she and Adam break up? Will she just be stranded in Winoka forever?

OLIVE: They’ve already done it, they’re not breaking up. She’s his woman now.

Then Ma, who’s gotten Boo Berry out for the journey, says goodbye as well.

In the wagon, Laura is also blubbering. She and Mary do a brief encore of their I-love-you-more-no-I-love-YOU-more routine from Mary’s birthday party.

And off goes the wagon train. Strangely, whilst the Olesons arrived in Winoka via Mustache Man Express, they’re now leaving under their own steam in what appears to be their old Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard from Walnut Grove.

They probably got it at Enterprise Rent-A-Yellow-Wheeled-Buckboard, though.

Others have noted that as the wagons depart, some of the blind kids seem to be watching it go or otherwise looking around. It’s barely noticeable, though. Only a real nitpicker would fixate on something so tiny; why can’t some people just relax and enjoy this show?

After a commercial, for at least the fourth time, we get that same old shot of the Chonkywagon at dusk, or possibly dawn. (It’s reversed this time, though, likely to throw us off the scent.)

They roll over familiar-looking yellow hills, as the orchestra plays the theme with a lazy grandeur not usually encountered outside commencement ceremonies at the very best colleges.

WILL: What are these flies? Is there an animal carcass there?

OLIVE: Yeah, it’s their cow. They just left it at home to die.

The vehicles then go their separate ways, suggesting they’ve made it as far as Fred the Goat’s sex field. (If they’re coming into town from the north, the Olesons would continue south, the Garveys turn east, and the Ingallses take the scenic route by the shores of Lake Ellen.)

Then we modulate from a pompous, masculine arrangement of the theme to a rugged, masculine arrangement of the theme.

DAGNY: David’s pulling out all the stops.

And suddenly, there it is: the Little House.

And with cheers, and some tears, they descend the hill to their old home.

In the Common Room, everything is cobwebby, but it doesn’t look too bad.

OLIVE: How long have they been gone this time?

I’d say about a year. We dated Mary’s graduation from the Burton School for the Blind to the spring of 1881. 

The Ingallses departed Iowa for home in May (probably), telling Adam they’d see him in Winoka in “about a month.”

The characters all traveled in time soon after arriving there. Voiceover Laura informed us in “The Winoka Warriors” that the historic game took place in November of 1880-H, not 1881-G as we’d worked out in the timeline. (See Dating Controversies.)

But whatever the year, that means the family arrived in Dakota Territory in midsummer. Independence Day was drawing near in Part One, thus the Winoka saga took up about a full year. 

If the family made it home from Iowa AND out to Winoka in about a month, the latter must be pretty close to the Minnesota border, so I think we can date the beginning of this episode to July (of 1881-H).

Pa asks for a moment of silence – not to commemorate anything, just to enjoy the peace of the countryside.

I grew up in the country myself, and certainly the quiet of a meadow, thicket, hillock or what have you can be glorious. (At least, it would be if I could ever stop talking for five minutes.)

Another thing people raised in the country get nostalgic for is the smell of animal dung. It’s true. Not from dogs and cats, obviously, but farm animals. A friend of ours went to the State Fair last week and said she got chills in the cattle barn, for that reason. (I can relate, though I think I prefer horseshit smell myself.) 

But I suppose Winoka smelled even more like horse than Hero Township does. Actually, the Ingallses are probably thinking, “This country air is so fresh! I only smell shit 90 percent of the time instead of a hundred!” 

Then Ma says, “Let’s get it cleaned up,” and David and Clax give us a musical montage to show the family’s efforts.

Unfortunately, it’s set to Aaron Copland-style Western music, not “Right Back Where We Started From” by Maxine Nightingale. (If wishes were horses we’d all ride in style.)

(That is quite the video, isn’t it?)

We see Pa scything away at the overgrown brush.

DAGNY: He’s back in Pinky, too. We didn’t see Pinky much in Winoka.

Then we see Albert doing the same.

WILL: He’s harvesting a year’s worth of marijuana bud.

The music lightens, and we see Carrie sweeping cobwebs.

DAGNY: Look, Carrie’s doing work for the first time in her life. 

OLIVE: Yeah. Not well, but . . .

Meanwhile, Laura empties a bucket out the door.

OLIVE: She should have hit Ma.

WILL: With the piss-pail? Fire in the hole, Ma!

Meanwhile, Ma cleans windows.

DAGNY: Where on earth did they get a sponge like that? That’s a sea sponge.

WILL: Maybe you could order one through the Sears Catalogue.

In fact, you could. Looks like they retailed at around 10-30 cents ($3-$9) apiece.

It’s curious the sponges were advertised on the same page as enema bags, vaginal sprays, and the like.

Pa nails up the new horseshoe. We have one above our kitchen door too, in fact.

This is a long montage, so David has to work some extra musical witchcraft. At this point he switches to his “Viennese waltz” arrangement of the theme.

Then we get a cute little shot of Carrie running out to the privy.

Then we get a horrifying little shot of the privy tipping over with Carrie inside.

Pa and Albert, who were reaping nearby, run to help.

OLIVE: It’s good for Albert to learn right away that they have to rescue Carrie every week.

David Rose, whose other choices in this episode are surefooted, misjudges here. When Pa and Albert run, he gives us urgent “alarm” music, much like in the firefighting scene in Dumbo. 

(I wonder if that scene was also an influence on Part One’s firefightin’ finale? Oh well, too late if so.)

In spite of the stupid music, Carrie is fine, and everybody laughs.

Matthew Labyorteaux’s eyeteeth are coming in. Puts one in mind of “The Werewolf of Walnut Grove,” actually.

Finally, back on the mantle goes the cracked-up Little Bo Peep. I didn’t catch where they displayed her in Winoka, did you?

We’ve never had an explanation where this thing came from or why it’s the only piece of art they’ve ever had or will ever have. 

But it apparently has some sentimental importance to Caroline, because she says, “Now it’s home.” I guess Bo Peep is the proverbial linchpin in the wheel of their lives, or hers at least.

Seems like a funny thing to make the proverbial linchpin in the wheel of your life; but Caroline and I are on different journeys.

Now we come to an interesting development, as we see Pa nailing up a privacy curtain in the upstairs loft apartment – because Albert, Laura and presumably Carrie will be rooming together!

OLIVE: I was wondering how they would handle this.

DAGNY: I don’t buy it for the period. If they were brother and sister, yes, but they aren’t.

WILL: Why don’t they put Albert in the soddy? Everybody who stays there LOVES it. It’s a fun space, has more privacy than ANYWHERE in the Little House, and it’s full of food!

OLIVE: Yeah. Plus Albert was living in a hole in the ground already. He’d feel right at home.

Pa climbs back down. Caroline comes out from the bedroom and laughs, “Carrie fell asleep somewhere between ‘God Bless Laura’ and ‘God Bless Albert.’”

I don’t know if she means this literally or if it’s her first-ever attempt at a joke, but the takeaway is Carrie’s been moved back into their bedroom. With the baby in there too? They’re never gonna have popcorn again.

I think I mentioned this somewhere, but my mom was the youngest of 10 children who grew up in a very small house in Wisconsin with only one proper bedroom. (And one bathroom.)

Her eldest brother and sister had already moved out by the time she was born. (That’s how long my poor grandma was having babies for.) 

But all the other children slept up in the attic room! That’s right, eight kids, from toddlers to teenagers, sharing a loft apartment in their own little house. It must have been something.

My point is, if they hadn’t all slept upstairs, maybe there wouldn’t have been so many kids in the first place.

Well, as they often do, Ma and Pa debrief the day over coffee. They give a nice nod to the Bead, saying whoever replaces her will likely not be as good. (They’re right about that.)

But then there’s a hullabaloo: Laura accuses Albert of peeping at her.

Pa yells at them to shut up. I’m relieved, actually: Albert’s presence surely guarantees the show will keep its tradition of dumb bedtime conversations ending in “go the fuck to sleep!” 

Laura warns Albert about peeking, and he says, “What’s there to peek at?”

DAGNY: She should throw one of her apples at him.

That night, Laura keeps Albert up by snoring. We’ve never known her to snore in the past. (She does hallucinate quite a bit. . . .)

The next morning, we see Charles driving across a field of goldenrod (or something). He’s headed for the Old Sanderson Place and the Barn of Garve.

Any geese are looooooooong gone by now.

Jonathan Garvey accepts Charles’s invitation to join him on a trip to town.

Alice comes out wearing her sexy bandana outfit, which also didn’t make it to Winoka for some reason, and which is my favorite.

She too is carrying a sea(rs) sponge.

Alice tuts Jonathan for not cleaning, saying in fact he’s already been fishing since they got back. But then invites the Ingallses over for that lovely Midwest tradition, a fish fry.

As they drive away, Charles asks Garvey if he went fishing. Jonathan and Alice already discussed this, but Charles must have spaced out. Or maybe he was just working up a hysterical laugh in case their argument turned serious.

But when they arrive in town, they’re surprised to find it abandoned and overgrown with weeds.

Even the Pagan Stone Circle is unkempt.

WILL: Are all these weeds real, or fake?

DAGNY: I think they’re real. This was probably the first one they filmed when they came back to the ranch for the season.

They head into the church, which is all cobwebbed and obviously not in use.

DAGNY: Do they find Alden’s body all dried up at the pulpit?

Nels soon joins them, saying the school never reopened after the Bead left. It’s funny, you can still see evidence of some child’s punishment, as something is written a hundred times on the blackboard. (Not Willie, unless he stood on a chair.)

Nels says the church folded soon after they left too. How does he know this? I suppose Harriet instantly accessed the remains of her gossip network when she got home.

“What happened to the Town Council?” Garvey asks – a governing body never before seen or mentioned. 

As we discussed last week, this season seems to have decided that the Grove once had an organized government we never saw.

“Well,” Nels says, “Dr. Baker’s still here. He’s not making a living, really – he’s just looking after Lars.”

Of course he is.

Nels tells them Mr. Hanson had a bad stroke while they were away. 

“Doc says he’s just given up on living,” he says, adding, “When the town died . . . it broke him.”

Charles looks at Garvey and says, “I didn’t think things would be this bad,” although what he actually said last week was he did think they would be this bad.

Nels says Mrs. Foster is still skulking around town somewhere.

Nels says he’s going to make a trip to Sleepy Eye to buy some goods for the Mercantile. (Presumably with his gambling winnings?)

You know, a friend of mine told me this week that her sister lives in Sleepy Eye. Fun!

Nels says since the Feed ’n’ Seed and Mill are shut down, he’ll be stocking seed for planting, at least temporarily.

After a break, David ushers us into Doc’s office, actually quoting the song “There’s No Place Like Home” in the score. (I guess the proper title is actually “Home! Sweet Home!”)

We listen to Glenn Campbell’s version every Christmas. It’s not really a favorite of mine, but Dagny goes nuts for Glenn Campbell. (When asked for a statement, Dags simply said, “He’s an American treasure.”)

We join the Grovester lads mid-conversation, with Doc saying leaving was never an option for him – because of Lars. 

DAGNY: Doc’s sportin’ a new hairstyle.

OLIVE: Yeah. It’s called “Brushed.”

Doc notes he helped care for “a few of the older folks [who] needed tending” as well.

Nels did mention that Mrs. Foster had taken over the Post Office. I’m afraid that means Mrs. Whipple is no more, folks. Especially if Doc was “tending” her.

As for Kezia, her wellbeing and whereabouts are unknown. Probably burrowed deeper into the earth until it’s safe to come out.

And I’m starting to think Joe Kagan will never return to us.

Doc says Hanson’s stroke actually wasn’t that severe, “but he just won’t come back.” I have known this to happen with people in my real life too, sadly, though my own grandma was great after she had hers. She would sometimes have trouble saying what she wanted to, but she’d just wave it off cheerfully and say, “Tomorrow.”

Doc says since Hanson founded the town, his spirit and health became intertwined with it. Hanson’s founding of Walnut Grove is part of the lore of this show, but this is actually the first time it’s been mentioned.

Doc says, “Lars never had a family of his own. It was always the town. . . .”

DAGNY: This is actually a great opportunity for a deep, tragic episode. His partner’s dying, and he can’t even really acknowledge it or process it, because they’re not really out, even if everybody knows by now.

WILL: Yeah, this episode probably inspired Tony Kushner to write Angels in America.

“It was his life,” Doc says. “Now it’s over.”

DAGNY: God, his lips look terrible.

Charles and Garvey are horrified to hear these things.

Doc says Mr. Hanson is upstairs. (Previously we surmised Doc’s flat above the Post Office was their principal rendezvous site.)

Doc takes them up, but warns them to prepare themselves.

And indeed, the sight is ghastly. 

Mr. Hanson sits in a dark room. He looks gaunt, as if shrunken into himself; his hair is flat and badly cut; and his face is jaundiced, with deep circles around his eyes.

He barely reacts when Doc speaks to him.

Hanson looks at Charles and Garvey without saying anything. It’s unclear if he can even see them.

Doc opens the curtains, but Hanson cringes away from the light and says, “Pull down the shade.” The left side of his face is immobile.

Looking at his friends with his one good eye, Hanson says, “There is nobody here. There is no town. It is gone.”

Charles says things certainly look bad, but they can fix them up again.

Hanson says, “People make the town . . . not buildings.” Cryptically, he adds, “Pull down the shades . . . and mourn your loved ones in peace. Walnut Grove is dead.”

DAGNY [as MR. HANSON]: “You fuckers killed it. Sharles, how could you?”

DAGNY: Did he really have a stroke? His stroke acting is really good.

WILL: You think if Karl Swenson had a debilitating stroke they would make him keep working?

OLIVE: I think he really had one. He’s that good.

Doc touches Hanson’s shoulder gently, and they leave him to his thoughts.

OLIVE: Just turn the Mill back on. When he hears it, he’ll perk up.

DAGNY: Yeah. Hydro-therapy.

The three men step out onto the porch. We can see the sign advertising Hans Dorfler’s blacksmith shop behind them. I hope ol’ Rubberface is okay.

Very upset, Jonathan Garvey steps aside to control his emotions as David gives us his sad Star Wars-type music again.

Charles comes over to comfort him, and they reminisce about how cantankerous but lovable Hanson was in better days. 

When I was young, I didn’t really love Hanson as a character, but boy did he grow on me as we’ve gone through these stories carefully and deliberately.

His voice breaking, Garvey walks away, with Charles following.

DAGNY: So does Charles become Mr. Hanson’s hospice social worker?

That evening (the sun’s still up, but that’s okay, it’s high summer), the two families enjoy their fish dinner on the Garveys’ lanai.

Jonathan says grace.

OLIVE: Albert should start eating while they’re praying. With his hands, like a beast!

WILL: He is an atheist.

Garvey asks God to help Mr. Hanson, then says he doesn’t have much appetite.

Caroline says without keeping his strength up, he won’t be able to help Mr. Hanson or anybody else.

Charles says even if Mr. Hanson doesn’t want to, they can get the Mill running again. He says, “Towns like Sleepy Eye and Mooney have grown a lot. They’re going to need flour.” (If the railroads have been starving the local communities, how have they grown? And where the fuck is Mooney?)

Alice announces she’s decided to reopen the school herself.

WILL: Who’s going to pay her? They’ll have to re-form the school board now.

“It only takes students and a teacher,” she says, “and we have both.”

WILL [as JONATHAN GARVEY]: “Is that some kinda remark?”

Actually, Jonathan is surprised, but his bias against women working is ancient history and he doesn’t object.

Charles says they need a PR campaign to stimulate interest in the town, and Alice mentions she saw “the Caulder family” drive by the house earlier that day. Then she says Jonathan needs to cut down “that mustard” that’s overgrown their property.

Meanwhile, Albert is eating about a cup of butter with a small piece of bread stuck to the bottom of it.

WILL: Albert likes butter, huh? I’ll have to make that a new tag.

And in her highchair, Baby Grace is nodding off.

DAGNY: Aw. I bet Landon was thrilled they caught this.

Next, we see Carl the Flunky chopping wood in his yard. He must also have had it with Winoka. 

Or actually, maybe it was his Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard driving with the others, and he was giving the Olesons a lift.

Albert and Laura come running up.

WILL [as CARL]: “Get the hell off my property!”

No, Carl actually greets them quite friendlily.

You know, we’ve seen his house once before – Laura came by selling her holistic medicines a while back. 

Carl lives with his grumpy wife (who’s never been seen except at their house), and their family name is Hillstrom. 

In fact, since Mrs. Hillstrom exposed the “medicines” scam, I think we can assume she’s dead or flown the coop, otherwise Laura probably would have skipped the visit to this house.

Then we see Charles, whose outreach strategy is to harass passersby on the side of the road.

Ben Slick, who’s out hunting, shakes his head to indicate “no way” or similar sentiment. He’s also back from Winoka. Maybe they had a few extra passengers in the Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard as they escaped the city.

OLIVE: Shouldn’t they be coming to the end of the episode soon?

WILL: It’s a double this time.

OLIVE: Oh. Not sure it needs to be.

Next, Laura and Albert find an Ambiguously Ethnic Kid (AEK), the Gelfling Boy, the Midsommar Kid (who attended the big game in “The Winoka Warriors”), and if I’m not mistaken the boy from Winoka who resembled Julie McCoy from Love Boat, all swimming in Plum Creek. (Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard explains the presence of those last two as well.)

Laura yells that “everybody” is coming into town on Thursday to restore it to life. 

DAGNY: How does she know these kids haven’t gone feral, like Lord of the Flies? 

OLIVE: Yeah. They’re not even dressed.

WILL: I know. She’s gonna end up toasting on a spit.

Cut to Charles having a conversation with a farmer who has an Oklahoma accent and looks like Kevin Bacon might if he starred in another Tremors movie today. (He nearly did.)

We’ll meet this guy a few times over the course of the series. He’s Miles Caulder, and is played by an actor named Ancel Cook.

Cook got his start in the Caesar Ramirez vehicle Starbird and Sweet William, then moved on to TV shows like The Waltons, Sanford and Son, The Dukes of Hazzard, Alice, and Everybody Loves Raymond, as well as in the movie Road House, with Patrick Swayze. (One of my friend John Pima’s favorites.)

Cook apparently also volunteered with an advocacy nonprofit that educated about alcoholism.

Well, Meddlin’ Chuck is reminding Farmer Caulder, who has a weather-beaten face, how involved he always was with the town – despite his not appearing in any episode before now.

Farmer Caulder grouses how he sold everything he owned to pay his taxes during the recession – including their first-ever store-bought furniture, the pride of his wife, Sarah. 

Caulder says their desperate situation has made Sarah “an old woman.” (Ancel Cook doesn’t look like a spring chicken himself, but I guess he was only 43 in 1978.)

Caulder then shocks his social worker by doubting aloud the existence of God, and saying even if He does exist, He’s a knob. 

OLIVE: Is Charles gonna punch his lights out?

WILL: Yeah, and then say, “Well, hope to see ya Thursday.”

Caulder then leads Charles into his house, which is filthy and full of broken windows.

Inside, a wizened elderly woman sits in a chair. She turns to give them an eerie stare, then looks out the window again.

WILL [as CHARLES]: “My condolences on your death, ma’am.”

As David lays on the horror music, Caulder tells him the old woman is his wife, who just turned 45.

OLIVE: Oh my God! It aged her fifty years?

Then, with almost voyeuristic slowness, the camera zooms closer and closer to Mrs. Caulder until we can every line on her face.

WILL: She should turn again and give us Large Marge face.

(Despite having a very memorable role, Mrs. Caulder doesn’t get a credit.)

When we come back from a commercial, Ma is tucking Laura into bed. 

Laura reports she didn’t find much enthusiasm for restoring the Grove’s glory.

As an example, she cites the also-never-before-mentioned Grovester “Mr. Morgan.” It’s possible he’s connected somehow to the Morgan’s Feed & Fuel empire, which we’ve seen spans Minnesota and the Dakota Territory. 

But I suppose if he was a Feed & Fuel baron, he wouldn’t be living in a shithole like Walnut Grove in the first place.

Laura says the kids she spoke to were more encouraging. She says that “even Bobby Joe Bean” was excited about the school reopening, “and he hated school.”

Now which one do you suppose is Bobby Joe Bean? The Gelfling Boy?

Laura goes on to say school is like watermelon: It gives you diarrhea, but you can’t quit it. (Paraphrase.)

Ma goes downstairs, and then we get another Go The Fuck To Sleep scene! (Yes, yes, yes!)

Albert says Laura should let him go to sleep first so her snoring won’t keep him up. But by the time he’s finished saying it, she’s snoring already.

Caroline goes out to the barn, and Charles says he didn’t have any more luck than Laura did.

He says the Grovesters just want to blame someone rather than think how to fix their problems – an attitude common today as well.

Meanwhile, in the sickroom, Doc comes in to find Mr. Hanson hasn’t eaten, calling him an “old goat.” 

Doc sits down, saying Mr. H always was critical of his cooking.

OLIVE: I believe that Doc’s a bad cook.

DAGNY: Yeah, I’m sure Hanson did most of their cooking.

WILL: Yeah. Gravlax and other Scandinavian delicacies.

Doc says he should eat.

Mr. Hanson says, “Fifty years ago, I came here . . . and there was nothing.”

DAGNY: Fifty years? So he’s gotta be really old now.

WILL: Yeah. He was already old, and everyone left behind got aged an additional fifty years.

OLIVE: He looks pretty old. You can tell by how long his eyebrows are.

Actually, Karl Swenson was only 69 when this was filmed, which doesn’t seem so very old these days.

Doc tells Hanson Charles is organizing people to restore the town.

“Sharles is a dreamer,” Mr. Hanson says, not unkindly. (Also not inaccurately.) 

Doc smiles and says so was Hanson himself, once upon a time.

Hanson says he was young and stupid then.

WILL: He’s given up, just like John Bevins.

DAGNY: Who?

WILL: The fat guy.

DAGNY: Oh yeah. They should have Beyoncé talk to him. “A winner don’t quit on themselves, Mr. Hanson!”

Finally Doc snaps and yells how it’s Hanson’s own attitude keeping him sick. 

DAGNY: Aren’t people ever allowed to die peacefully on Little House? This show can’t handle it. 

His voice shaking with emotion, Doc says he hates to see what’s happening to his old companion. It’s quite touching, actually. 

DAGNY: Look, somebody moisturized his lips before this scene.

“I never asked you to listen,” Mr. Hanson says sadly.

Rather than argue further, Doc holds Hanson’s arm for a moment, then says quietly, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

A beautiful scene. All fantasies about shipping them aside, in some ways it’s a pity they pulled back from the very close friendship Doc and Hanson were implied to have in the first season. 

And it’s nice they’ve returned to it now – albeit in this muted and tragic way.

Thursday morning comes, and only the Ingallses, Garveys, Albert and Doc show up for the municipal improvement project.

Then suddenly, a wagon comes driving up. “It’s Mr. Caulder and the Morgan kids!” cries Gopher Fangs.

Mr. Caulder it is indeed. 

“The Morgan kids” are more problematic.  They appear to be . . . 

A. The Gelfling Boy. (So much for our Bobby Joe Bean theory.)

B. The Kid with Very Red Hair (Mean One). It’s hard to believe he and the Gelfling Boy are brothers, as they look nothing alike. Furthermore, Very Red was an institution in Walnut Grove long before GB ever showed up; in fact, with this week’s appearance, he becomes tied (with Pigtail Helen) for the title of Seventh-Most-Frequently Appearing Little House Schoolkid at 22 appearances, compared with the Gelfing Boy’s mere nine.

Very Red has never had a surname attached to him, but he has been addressed by three different first names: Teddy (in “Little Women”), Carl (in “The Wisdom of Solomon”), and Jason (in “My Ellen”). I think Teddy suits him best, but what do I know. 

Anyways, you’ll all recall that in “My Ellen,” this kid indirectly caused Ellen Taylor’s death by peeping at her whilst she swam nude. 

At that time, he was accompanied by a smaller red-haired kid – his brother Tommy, who also appeared (albeit played by a different actor) in “The Stranger,” where he led the bullying campaign against Peter Lundstrom, that little fancy pants. 

But if Teddy is one of “the Morgan kids,” shouldn’t Tommy also be in the wagon with him today? Unless he’s dead, which, this being Little House on the Prairie, he probably is.

C. A small girl, whose face we can’t see. (The Smallest Nondescript Helen of Them All?)

Charles greets Caulder, who tells him his wife actually was reinvigorated by his visit.

OLIVE: At the end, will she be young and beautiful again?

Then another wagon comes rumbling into town.

DAGNY: Who’s this? Is it Mustache Man?

We can’t actually see who it is, but Charles screams “Come on, let’s get to work!” and we get another musical montage.

This one’s score is extremely ambitious. I’ve never much liked music criticism – I think more than other arts, music is experienced uniquely by individuals – but the soundtrack in this one has a symphonic sweep I associate more with blockbuster movies than 1970s TV, which often sounded either like this:

Or like this:

The work mostly consists of machete-ing weeds.

DAGNY: The Mill! The heart of the town!

OLIVE: The actors aren’t all that good at this. 

WILL: Yeah, it’s like watching Karen Grassle peel fruit.

DAGNY: Doc’s doing it too, huh? He must have learned SOMETHING when he was a farmer.

Charles and Garvey throw the switch and the Mill fires up again. Doc stops a moment and says emotionally, “Praise be.” (Kevin Hagen is also terrific in this.)

After a break, we see the workers taking a break on the Mercantile steps. 

Nellie and Willie haven’t joined in the landscaping efforts, but, quite nicely actually, they’re supplying the workers with refreshments.

WILL: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.

Albert drinks directly out of the water pitcher, the monster.

OLIVE: See? He’s like a little caveman.

We also see Not-Ellen Taylor, who’s also back from Winoka, has joined the work party.

Now Nels returns from Sleepy Eye, accompanied by Carl the Flunky, and by Not-Richard Libertini, who’s also also back from Winoka.

Nels reports he bumped into the Reverend Alden, who will be back to preach again this Sunday.

Screaming “Let’s go fix up the church!” all the kids take off running. 

OLIVE: I don’t know that I believe that.

We see Not-Linda Hunt has joined the group as well.

Now we come to a controversial Little House moment, one which, like all the most controversial Little House moments, involves Nels.

Nels yells at Nellie and Willie to join the team and actually help with the hard work.

Harriet appears on the porch and screams at him, but he tells her to shut up.

DAGNY: They are a pretty cruel caricature of a married couple.

OLIVE: I know, I hate it.

WILL: Their types are not unknown in real life, however.

And then, when Harriet comes running down to yell at him, Nels threatens her with a threshing blade.

Most of the time I like their volatile dynamics, but this one might go a little too far for me.

Mrs. Oleson screams and screams , then runs off. This is a little dumb, in my view, because it’s clear he isn’t seriously threatening her.

Then again, he really did cut off her head once.

Anyways, MacG is over-the-top here, but Richard Bull is funny.

Then we see Jonathan Garvey and Doc going to tell Hanson what’s being accomplished.

But they find him lying on the floor.

Garvey gets him back into bed, saying the town is coming back to life, so he better stick around to see it.

Then we see Charles and Caroline, also in bed.

Charles can’t sleep, because a flute solo in the orchestra is keeping him awake.

Caroline can’t sleep either . . . because she’s so excited Rev. Alden is coming back to town.

You read that right.

And neither can Albert, due to Laura’s snoring. He says he’s gonna go sleep in the barn, which he seems to find an unappealing option.

I’m pleased that for once somebody hints at how the hayloft is not an ideal place to bed down. I grew up in the country, but I only had to sleep in hay once, at a French and Indian War reenactment on a cold wet October night. And I have breathing issues to this day.

But rather than tell Albert THE SODDY IS A MUCH GROOVIER SLEEPING SPACE THAN THE BARN, Ma and Pa just laugh in his face.

Back in Hanson’s room, the patient is unconscious.

Doc says, “I wish to Heaven there was something I could do!” (Someday somebody’s going to realize the factor connecting every death in this town is Doc himself.)

Jonathan Garvey says he’ll stay the night with Mr. Hanson so Doc can rest, but Doc says if they both stay, that way they can “spell each other.”

DAGNY: “That way we can smell each other”?

I think Doc means sleep in shifts. 

Doc finally agrees to take the night off . . . and then Garvey is, like, oh, by the way, can you drive out to my house and tell Alice I won’t be home tonight?

Garvey acts like this is some great favor to Doc; but he’ll have to drive probably 40 minutes out of his way to get to the OSP first. I’m sure Doc would have been happier sleeping in a chair by Hanson’s side!

Anyways, once Doc’s gone, Garvey then kneels down and asks God to save Hanson so he can see Walnut Grove one more time.

It’s a pretty Charles-y speech (albeit uniquely tailored for Garvey), so it’s nice Landon gave it to Merlin Olsen instead of himself.

Sunday comes, and we see jolly old Aldi ringing the bell and smiling and no doubt quivering a great deal.

The town is all cleaned up. Where did they put all the yard waste, I wonder?

In his bedroom, Mr. Hanson hears the bell, wakes and staggers to the window.

He sees the Mill running, the bushes (improbably) pruned, and a bunch of people headed to church.

Jonathan Garvey wakes up and tells Hanson to get back into bed, but Hanson says Get me dressed, Yonathan, I’m going to church!

He bosses Garvey around then, quite charmingly.

In front the church, the Olesons, Ingallses and the other Garveys are there.

So is the ZZ-Top Guy.

Everyone’s feeling pretty giddy, then they all stop and stare at the bridge, where Mr. Hanson and Jonathan are slowly walking.

One note: There’s a man with dark hair and a mustache who I think is Latino. This is a first in Walnut Grove, unless you count Indigenous people played by Latinos.

Doc rushes to Hanson and tries to get him to turn around, but he says, “Let me be! I am going to shursh!”

Doc says they should at least let them carry him the rest of the way, but Hanson turns and says, “Nej du! Lars Hanson does not get carried into shursh! . . . The day I die, you carry me into shursh. Not before.”

And so, Mr. Hanson walks the rest of the way.

OLIVE: Andrew Garvey needs braces.

Then we get a close-up of the Caulders. Sarah may not look 45, but she’s clearly made some effort today.

WILL: See? Aldi is quivering.

Speaking of quivering, David whips his strings into a frenzy as Mr. Hanson arrives, grinning at his old friends.

And H. Quincy Fusspot is there!

And an AEK is there! And Mustache Man is there!

And a number of people we’ve never seen before are there!

I can imagine this being played more joyously/humorously, a little more “Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas morning.”

But Karl Swenson plays it seriously, as a physical feat by a disabled man, not someone whose ailments are magically cured. His final performance as this character has a gravity it deserves, I think.

Not everybody agrees, though.

DAGNY: Too much.

WILL: Too much?

DAGNY: Too much. I’m not moved by this. The women’s hats are amazing, though.

OLIVE: I’m moved by it.

WILL: Me too.

Well, it did take a long time to get here, I’ll admit that.

But not only does Hanson make it, he immediately makes a speech to the congregation, asking their pardon for his lack of faith in God, the community, and himself.

Hanson’s speech goes over well – even Mrs. O smiles.

Then, bizarrely, Aldi suggests they sing “Joy to the World.” (This Christmas carol, in its current form, was first published in 1848. Some say its melody was written by George Frederick Handel, because the first four notes of “Lift Up Your Heads, O Ye Gates” are identical, but that’s rubbish.)

Everyone files into church. I notice Albert is singing along, which seems strange. As a non-churchgoing orphan who lived in a town that banned Christmas, would he really know this song?

(And the Non-Binary Kid is there!)

I think the actors may have been asked to sing longer than they expected, because the lyrics of the second verse are seriously garbled. Then again, I suppose that often happens in real life, too.

Voiceover Laura tells us Mr. Hanson lived another four months, then had a peaceful death.

And of course, in real life, just before the episode aired, Karl Swenson died of a heart attack at age 70. 

A radio and stage actor (and one-time fashion model!) who broke into television in the 1950s, Swenson (who was American-born, but to Swedish parents) appeared on many classic series, including Leave It To Beaver, The Rifleman, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Have Gun – Will Travel, The Untouchables, Wagon Train, The Fugitive, Rawhide, Perry Mason, Dr. Kildare, Bonanza, Mission: Impossible, Hawaii Five-O, Gunsmoke, The Mod Squad, and Lassie.

He was also in two movies I like, one well-known one not.

In the famous diner scene in The Birds, he’s the drunk who tells the other customers the bird plague is “the end of the world.”

And he was in a very weird 1966 film called Seconds, about plastic surgery, identity theft, and conspiracy. Ahead of its time. 

Well, in the episode’s final shot, we see new carved plaque (made by Sharles, surely?).

(Lars Hanson was a character invented for the TV show, and the real Walnut Grove wasn’t founded until 1874 – the same year the Ingallses arrived. But who cares about that!)

So, as we say here in Minnesota, or as some people say here in Minnesota, skål, Karl Swenson, and skål, Mr. Hanson! And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go watch “Doctor’s Lady” again and raise my Swedish egg coffee in a toast to him. Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum!

STYLE WATCH:

Alice’s work outfit.

Charles appears to go commando again.

THE VERDICT: “There’s No Place Like Home” is overstuffed, and perhaps not equal to the sum of its parts. But what parts! Stunning moments: Ma shaming Laura, and telling Pa they must consider leaving Mary; Mary convincing Pa it’s truly wrong for him to stay (and Ma’s relief as she listens from the other room); Albert comforting Toby Noe; the Ingallses deciding to bring Albert home; Doc’s devotion to his dying friend; and of course Karl Swenson’s final performance. It could be a half hour shorter, but for the most part I loved it.

And in case anybody’s wondering, the top ten most frequently appearing schoolkids by frequency are now:

1. The Ambiguously Ethnic Kids (46 appearances)

2. Cloud City Princess Leia (35 appearances)

3. The Midsommar Kid (34 appearances)

4. Not-Linda Hunt (28 appearances)

5. The Non-Binary Kid (25 appearances)

6. Not-Joni Mitchell (23 appearances)

7. Pigtail Helen/The Kid With Very Red Hair (Mean One) (tie – 22 appearances each)

9. The Smallest Nondescript Helen of Them All/Mona Lisa Helen (tie – 20 appearances each)

Longest recap ever, but thanks for reading. See you again soon.

UP NEXT: Fagin