The Preacher Takes a Wife

Reverend Fallden; or

You May Ask Yourself, Where is My Beautiful Wife?

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: The Preacher Takes a Wife

Airdate: October 22, 1979

Written by John T. Dugan

Directed by Maury Dexter

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: Mrs. Oleson schemes to destroy Reverend Alden’s new love relationship – until surprise! a dark secret from her past literally shows up on her doorstep.

RECAP:

[watching Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein:]

WILL: You know what Frankenstein choosing his monster project over his fiancée reminds me of?

DAGNY: You working on Walnut Groovy instead of spending time with your family?

Ouch! No, I was going to say a certain clergyman choosing his ministry over love in this episode, but I don’t want to get ahead of the story.

Another sad announcement today – condolences on the passing of Rick Hurst, who was great as Jacob “Scandinavian Guy” Jacobsen in “100 Mile Walk.” 

But no more tears. I also hope all had a pleasant Independence Day, Canada Day, or just an ordinary day, if you don’t observe those holidays (or just don’t care).

We open on a shot of Groveland Congregational Church.

Today we know it’s Groveland “Congo” and not Groveland Elementary-Middle because churchy bells are chiming on the soundtrack.

A bunch of vehicles are parked hither and, well, thither. I notice the Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard is there . . . but with unpainted wheels! 

I noticed this last week, too, but didn’t think it worth mentioning. (Probably still isn’t, but what the hey.)

Really, the wheels make sense, though. After the Grove was rocked by the death of Ned Watkins (caused, you’ll remember, by a coach being poorly maintained), I’m sure everybody rushed to get their vehicles serviced at once. 

Obviously, then, these are brand-new wheels, and, either because yellow ones were unavailable, or too expensive, or simply out of fashion in 1883-J, they’re plain rather than painted.

Today’s title, “The Preacher Takes a Wife,” I assumed was a reference to “The Farmer in the Dell” (“the farmer takes the wife, heigh-ho the derry-o,” etc.). But it may also refer to one of two films titled “The Farmer Takes a Wife.” (Whether those titles refer to “The Farmer in the Dell” is none of my business.)

Church is just letting out, and a family of four immediately heads camera-wards.

We don’t know these people: a man, a woman, and two long-haired boys.

But who cares. Anyways, this one also features a guest star named Iris Korn.

ROMAN: Oh, did she found the band?

Several town biggies are present today: the Ingallses, the Garveys, the Olesons, and Doc. 

Some non-biggies too: Carl the F, Mustache Man, the Non-Blind AEK, the Young Woman Dressed Sort of Like Heidi, J.C. Fusspot and a pretty woman (is he on a date?), and J.C’s Visiting Sister. (I think we may have seen the P Woman before, but I sometimes get her confused with the Visiting S.)

No Wilders today, though. Are they not churchgoers?

No Kendalls either, and no Hester-Sue and no blind kids. I wouldn’t think they’d ever miss a service. Wouldn’t they force the kids to go?

But maybe Reverend Alden swings by the Oleson Institute after church to do a service tailored for the visually impaired.

Joe Kagan isn’t there either. It’s funny we rarely see him in church, especially given the foofaraw when he joined. 

But probably Joe’s pig farm is just pretty far out of town. You’ll recall he bought it from Adam and Luke Simms, and we never saw them in church either.

It also might be that Joe realized it isn’t a Catholic church.

Anyways! The Reverend himself, of course, is also there . . . as is a sort of grandmotherly lady in a plaid dress and gloves.

As the throng departs, this lady lingers nonchalantly.

We hear Mrs. Foster call out “Goodbye, Reverend Alden!” even though we didn’t see her exiting church. 

Possibly she was in the privy when service ended.

The grandmotherly lady, apparently a “Mrs. Craig,” smalltalks with Aldi for a while.

DAGNY: They look how old I feel.

Mrs. Craig has something on her mind, but she hems and haws and finally just gives up when Charles offers her a ride home.

We then cut to Mrs. Craig’s yard as the Chonkywagon approaches.

The eagle-eyed amongst you will recognize this as the Old Whipple Place, last inhabited by Amanda Cooper. 

(This confirms our theory that Mrs. Cooper died in the anthrax epidemic of 1880.)

The OWP is indeed on the way home for the Ingallses, roughly, and Mrs. Craig has the place fixed up nicely, with roses climbing the trellis, ferns a-hangin’, and the like.

Mrs. C invites them in for chocolate cake, but Ma declines. (Albert, who we know likes chocolate cake, shoots an annoyed look at this.)

DAGNY: She’s got a tight little waist.

ALEXANDER: She probably does Pilates.

Mrs. C says she’ll throw in a free Grand Canyon slideshow on her “stereopticon,” but the Ingallses have plans with the Garveys. 

(The stereopticon was a slide projector also known as a “magic lantern.”)

DAGNY: Why don’t they invite her along?

WILL: Oh, they couldn’t do that to somebody else’s house. Alice would shit a brick.

“Next Sunday, maybe?” says Mrs. Craig, and Pa says, “Sure.” Who is this person? She seems on close terms with Ma and Pa for someone we’ve never seen before.

“Have a nice day!” Pa calls, and off they go.

Mrs. Craig goes inside, where she’s watched by the photo of John Wilkes Booth and the reproduction of Michelangelo’s Moses. (They could stand to get some new objets-d’art on this show.)

Mrs. Craig picks up a framed picture of a hugely mustachioed man.

ROMAN: Is that H.H. Holmes, the serial killer?

WILL: I thought it looked like Seth Bullock – the real one, not Timothy Olyphant.

But no, it is presumably the Widow Craig’s late husband. 

Next we find ourselves in an unfamiliar place: a log hovel in an overgrown, ill-tended yard. 

Inside, Rev. Alden visits what appears to be a very elderly man.

This oldster is complaining how nobody except Aldi ever comes to visit him.

The old man, who resembles Adolph Green and seems to be dying of advanced eyebags, says all his other friends are dead.

(He’s Jon Lormer, best known to me as the grumpy patriarch in Stephen King’s Creepshow (“Where’s my cake, Bedelia!”).)

(Lormer was in a zillion other things too, including The Twilight Zone, Perry Mason, Star Trek, Bonanza, Gunsmoke, Lassie, The Waltons, Father Murphy and Highway to Heaven.)

This complaining elder’s net effect is sad rather than cantankerous. 

He says that, like George Bailey, he’d be better off not existing. (I mean, he doesn’t mention George Bailey, I’m just making that comparison.)

Alden says Oldie shouldn’t be in a hurry to get to the afterlife. It’s sort of a mean trick of God’s, in the brand of Christianity I learned as a child at least, that Heaven gets touted up and we should be thrilled when others go there, but taking a shortcut there ourselves is an instant DQ.

The Old One says no one cares if he lives or dies, and Aldi says firmly, “I care.”

The Rev says also, I understand what being alone feels like.  (Dabbs is already great in this one.)

The OO says Aldi’s got parishioners instead of a family. Addressing him as “Jeremy,” Aldi acknowledges he is worshipped by all who know him, but shrugs off the suggestion he can’t be lonely.

Their chat simmers down a bit, and soon Alden is taking requests from the Good Book. 

Jeremy asks for Luke 10:27 – “Maggie’s favorite.” 

DAGNY: Aldi’s like, “I don’t have to look that shit up. I got it mesmerized.”

The two men recite the verse together, and it really is a lovely moment.

Later, Alden heads “home” – to a rented room at Nellie’s, that is.

It makes sense he’s staying there now. We know Amy Hearn used to host him, but the last we heard of her, she was in San Francisco working as a newsie.

Depressed, Alden sits in his chair and ponders his conversation with Old Jeremy.

He doesn’t look to the Good Book for comfort, but I suppose if he’s got all the highlights “mesmerized” he doesn’t need to.

The next day at the Oleson Institute, Hester-Sue leads the Sharp-Dressed Kid, Pigtail Annie, Not-Little Eli, Blind Princess Leia, Janis, and the Blind AEK outside for some exercise.

ALEXANDER: Do any of these kids use echolocation? [makes dolphin noises]

Inside, Mrs. Craig is having a meeting with Adam and Mary.

She’s looking for volunteer opportunities. She says she could help in the kitchen, since “Parker,” presumably the H.H. Holmes/Seth Bullock-lookin’ late husband, thought her a culinary wiz.

Then we see Rev. Alden, Charles, Mrs. Oleson, Nels, Jonathan Garvey, Carl, and the Misbehaving Little Girl hangin’ in front of the church.

It’s unclear how much time has passed; Aldi’s schedule is mysterious. At the beginning of the series, he was preaching in Walnut Grove once a month, but by Season Four Harriet Oleson said he’s coming twice. 

(We’ve only seen one service where he was absent, so church must be pretty uneventful when he’s gone.)

Even so, they’ve never dealt with how long he stays for each visit. He’s usually around when the shit hits the fan, so he must be in town a fair bit. 

“My Ellen” hints that his two weekends in Walnut Grove are consecutive, so presumably he could be sticking around for up to two weeks at a time. 

I don’t know, though. You’d think with multiple parishes, he’d be constantly traveling to perform funerals, at least if the average body count on this show is any indication.

Anyways, the camera pans over to show a bunch of other people departing – the church, that is, not mortal existence – so apparently this is at least a week later.

Mrs. Craig has been bringing Caroline up to speed on her job, and she declines an invitation to dine at the Little House. (They should be careful. In my experience, after three failed attempts, people stop trying.)

“Have a nice day!” Dumb Chuck says again.

Through this conversation, Mrs. C has been sneaking peeks at Rev. Alden. It’s not too hard to see where this is going. 

Indeed, she invites him to supper, and he accepts.

Then she starts pushing her Grand Canyon slides again. (Does she get a commission if somebody buys a stereopticon, or something?) 

Unlike Charles, Aldi thinks the slideshow sounds great, and he rushes to get his hat.

Later, we see Ol’ Jehoshaphat parked in front of the Ol’ Whipple Place. 

Inside, the Rev compliments Mrs. Craig on her cooking, which he says was “delicious from soup to nutcake!”

(The old expression “soup to nuts” used to mystify me. Supposedly it refers to the traditional “service à la Russe,” the formal multi-course meal you may have read about, or experienced yourself if you’re a character in a P.G. Wodehouse novel.)

(Miss Manners gives a list of fifteen possible courses:)

 1. Raw oysters

2. Soup, with both a cream soup and a thin soup offered

3. Hors d’oeuvres

4. Fish

5. Entree: This is not the main course, as today’s restaurants believe, but rather the “entry” to the main meal. An entree was typically asparagus, artichokes or corn.

6. Sorbet

7. Hot roast

8. Cold roast

9. Entremets, meaning “on the way to more” — sort of the hallway of the meal, which could be vegetables or such sweets as mousses or flans.

10. Game

11. Salad

12. Pudding

13. Ice cream

14. Fruit

15. Cheese

(She doesn’t mention nuts, but apparently these accompanied the fruit and cheese courses.) 

(As for “soup to nuts,” it didn’t come around until the 1920s, so it’s anachronistic here.)

“Perhaps we’d be more comfortable in the living room,” Mrs. Craig says.

OLIVE: Did they call it a living room? Wouldn’t it be a parlor?

(That’s probably right; looks like living room wasn’t popularized until the 1890s.)

Mrs. Craig then alarms the audience by offering Aldi a cigar – which he accepts!

OLIVE: Alden smokes cigars? That’s shocking.

AMELIA: Yeah. Next he’s going to be like, “Got any fentanyl?”

Mrs. Craig describes the cigars as her late husband’s favorite, “Perla de Cuba.” (A fictional brand, though Cuban cigars have been highly regarded in the U.S. since the mid-Eighteenth Century.)

When he accepted the cigar, Aldi said, “I’d love one,” and now Mrs. Craig – obviously quick on her feet – says, “Speaking of love, I was thinking about your sermon today.”

Aldi says he’s happy to learn at least one person pays attention when he speaks. (Indeed, from what other characters and he himself say, his sermons are long and boring.)

Aldi is getting ready to light his cigar when Mrs. C asks him whom he meant in his discussion of “neighbors.”

Aldi smiles and starts talking about Luke 10:29. He’s got Luke 10 on the brain, but that’s hardly surprising, given his recent recite-along with Old Jeremy.

The passage, as you may know, is the parable of the Good Samaritan, in which Jesus describes how a Jewish man was robbed, beaten and left for dead on the side of the highway. 

Upper-class Jews including a priest pass by and ignore the man, but a Samaritan – in this time and place a reviled minority group, apparently – stops and helps him, even paying for a bed and medical treatment. 

Jesus says his listeners should model themselves on this Samaritan rather than on the fine upstanding people who ignored the man’s need.

(I learned this story in Sunday school, but I’ll admit, I didn’t picture the guy being quite so badly injured as he appears to be in that last one.)

(I have a number of questions about this picture, which I’ll stress I did NOT create myself. What are those creatures in the background, for instance?)

(Why is the man’s arm not injured – so not injured, in fact, that it’s unaware what’s happened to the rest of its body?)

(I don’t know what’s protruding from the robe of the man controlling the donkey, but it can’t be his knee, judging from the position of his feet.)

(Finally, why is there a bagel on the ground? To indicate the victim is Jewish? Who owns Bible Art AI, Elon Musk?)

(Not to mention the bagel wasn’t invented until the Thirteenth or Fourteenth Century A.D./C.E. at the earliest.)

Anyways, Aldi doesn’t repeat the parable, but he says the “neighbor” – i.e., the injured man in the story – could be anyone at all.

ALEXANDER: Why’s his thumb so discolored?

ROMAN: That’s the cigar.

Well, Mrs. C clearly doesn’t understand the story either, because she tells Aldi she considers him her neighbor, and she does indeed love him – “the way a woman loves a man”!

OLIVE: Oh my God!

DAGNY: Does she have a pull-off skirt like the girl at the circus?

ROMAN: Yeah. That’s why it’s thirteen-plus this time.

Aldi quivers, homina-hominas, fiddles with his still-unlit cigar, and finally flees, leaving this Blanche Devereaux of the Prairie to look around in surprise.

Arriving back at the hotel, Rev. Alden encounters Charles, who’s been looking for him. 

Charles tells him “Old Jeremy Tyler” is dying and Doc has called for his presence at the deathbed. 

(There’s no suggestion Old Jer is related to the Tylers we met in “Founder’s Day” or to the incompetent Feed & Seed manager Mr. Tyler from “The Creeper of Walnut Grove.”)

Out at Old Jeremy’s, we hear a rumble that sounds like thunder, or perhaps approaching cavalry or a bison stampede, or maybe even Olive Kaiser blowing her nose.

But it’s just the Chonkywagon pulling into the driveway.

Alden rushes to the bedroom whilst Doc gives Charles a yup-get-the-shovel look.

Indeed, Old Jeremy doesn’t look the goodest, and he says he hopes he has a reservation in Heaven.

The Rev offers Old Jer some words of comfort.

OLIVE [as REVEREND ALDEN, gently]: “Jeremy, none of it’s real.”

WILL: I bet he feels superior to the old guy, since he has women throwing themselves at him now.

ROMAN: Yeah, he’s got a new spring in his step. He should go to Sleepy Eye and marry a saloon girl.

Old J says he’s glad he came, because there “must be nothin’ worse than dyin’ alone.”

AMELIA: He’s pretty good as a dying old man.

He is.

Beads of sweat appear on Aldi’s forehead. You can tell Jeremy’s comment has got him thinking about sex again.

Jer makes a long salt-of-the-earth speech about this old farm and these old bones and that type of thing.

WILL: A pillow should come down on his face, like in Dead Again.

(Sorry for all the Kenneth Branagh movie references. You know how my mind gets stuck in a holding pattern sometimes.)

Alden laughs in Jeremy’s face, and Old J croaks, slowly and painfully.

We cut immediately to the Reverend saying some words over Jeremy’s grave, with Doc and Charles the only mourners.

ALEXANDER: Nobody else in this whole town showed up?

Alden closes by saying “ah-men,” but Charles and Doc follow it up with “ay-men.” 

It’s awkward.

I’m never sure what to do in situations like this myself. Charles and Doc simply walk away rather than staying to hash out the pronunciation.

Rev. Alden remains behind to consider the ah-men/ay-men dilemma alone. 

An operatic French horn melody captures his pondering (ponderance?) in musical form and carries us out of the scene.

Meanwhile, at Nellie’s, Caroline and Nellie are working the full dining room.

Caroline brings Mrs. Craig a plate of corned beef and cabbage. (Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite in our house, though for reasons too complicated to explain here, Dagny refers to it as “spring ham.”)

You’d think this was a recipe of Amy Hearn’s, but Caroline describes it as “corned beef and cabbage a la Ingalls.”

Mrs. C says the portions are enormous.

WILL [as MRS. CRAIG]: “What do I look like to you, a circus fat lady?”

From her table by the window, where she’s going over the receipts, Harriet Oleson yells at Caroline to stop gossiping with the customers.

In a snarky aside to Mrs. C, Caroline compares Mrs. O to Simon Legree, the slavedriver of Uncle Tom’s Cabin.

Reverend Alden appears at the door, having apparently stalked Anna Craig to this location like Knox Overstreet.

(Knox Overstreet has a lot to answer for re men’s ideas how to woo women in the late Twentieth Century. A lot!)

Mrs. Oleson invites Rev. Alden to join her for the “famous Oleson corned beef and cabbage,” but he’s only got eyes for Anna.

Heading straight over to her, he sits down and apologizes for leaving so abruptly. He’s quivering only slightly, like a quaking aspen in the lightest breeze.

The Rev says no one has ever said they love him as a person, except his parents.

Mrs. C apologizes back for acting like a “brazen hussy.”

Aldi says he likes that she’s a brazen hussy. (Paraphrase.)

AMELIA [as REVEREND ALDEN]: “I also like your dress. It would look great on my hotel room floor.”

Ha! Well, this brazen hussy is played by Iris Korn (no relation to Julie Cobb), who had a recurring role on Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.

She also appeared on The Waltons, Barnaby Jones, Charlie’s Angels, and The Incredible Hulk.

She was in Tarantulas: The Deadly Cargo, in which Matthew Labyorteaux gets killed by spiders.

And she did a cheap horror film called Pigs! (also known as Daddy’s Deadly Darling and by a lot of other titles). I’ve never seen it, but the plot sounds fantastic.

In real life, she was about ten years older than Dabbs Greer. Here she is as a lovely 22-year-old in 1929.

Rev. Alden says he intends to court her, and she says, “Oh, that would be very agreeable, Robert.” (Emphasis mine.)

As we’ve noted in the past, Reverend Alden was a real person, though different in many ways (some of them not so “agreeable”) from the TV version. 

His given name was Edwin Hyde Alden, but he did actually go by Robert for some reason.

Anyways, addressing him by his first name without being invited is quite forward, but Aldi doesn’t mind. In fact, he laughs and clasps her hand.

WILL [as REVEREND ALDEN, whispering]: “I GOT US A ROOM UPSTAIRS. LET’S GO.”

Well, across the room, Mrs. Oleson is as shocked as if he really had said he got a room.

We see that Carl the Flunky is also on a date. In “The Gift,” we met Carl’s wife (the family name is Hillstrom), but that was a long time ago. (Forty-seven years in Little House Universal Time (LHUT), to be precise.)

It may be she’s been recast, but it’s also possible she too died of anthrax, or of mountain fever, or froze to death in the blizzard, or was killed by Fred the goat, or eaten by the mad dogs, or some combination.

Well, whoever his date is, she seems annoyed and unhappy to hear the Rev and Mrs. C billing and cooing. 

She doesn’t seem like much fun. Carl should give her the old Christie Norton treatment.

I suppose maybe he’s dumping her right now, in fact. You can always tell when that happens in restaurants.

Also annoyed and unhappy is Harriet Oleson, who abruptly slams her balance book shut and exits.

In the kitchen, she practically pants to Caroline “They are holding hands!” like a kid at a middle-school dance.

Caroline thinks that’s nice.

“Well, I think it’s disgraceful!” Harriet hisses.

We’ll get into Mrs. Oleson’s motivations down the road, but perhaps now is a good time to mention that by and large, Protestant ministers are allowed, even encouraged, to marry and have families, then and now.

Supposedly this is discouraged in some individual congregations, but that’s a rare thing at best.

Anyways, Ma doesn’t give a shit what Harriet thinks and just keeps on smilin’.

After a break, we see a bunch of ducks swimming.

You might guess we’re down near the Old Rustic Bridge, given we know there’s a duck colony down there, and you’d be right.

Anna Craig and Reverend Alden are feeding the birds. She almost slips, and he catches her around the waist, Unky Chris-style.

DAGNY: Oh, that old trick.

AMELIA [as MRS. CRAIG]: “Ooh, you’ve got a smokin’ bod under this, haven’t you?”

OLIVE: Oh my God, Amelia.

Both oldsters seem overwhelmed at the rush of emotion. (Other substances may be rushing as well, but they’re beyond the scope of a tasteful blog like this.)

Then we see them driving in Alden’s buggy through town, laughing gaily as they go. They put me in mind of Kenneth Koch‘s parody of William Carlos Williams:

We laughed at the hollyhocks together
and then I sprayed them with lye.
Forgive me. I simply do not know what I am doing.

And speaking of lye-spraying, from the Mercantile porch, Harriet Oleson stares, all the while sweeping furiously.

DAGNY: Say what you want about Harriet, she is a hard worker.

Then we get an odd sight indeed: Smoke-It-Up Chuck leading Rev. Alden out to his Thinking/Arguing/Crying Place at night.

Alden is now making up for lost time with the quivering. “Charles,” he says, “can I ask your advice about something?”

ROMAN [as REVEREND ALDEN]: “Mrs. Craig keeps offering me popcorn, what does that mean?”

Charles says Aldi is usually a source for good advice himself, and the Rev replies, “Well, in this case, I think you have more expertise than I.”

WILL: This is like when Dwight asked Toby what vaginas look like.

Aldi says minist’rin’ is a lonely life, and that people view him as a sort of helpful alien in a costume rather than a real person with emotional needs.

DAGNY: “I took the road less traveled by.” Robert Burns.

(Robert Frost, but close enough.)

WILL: Yeah. He did.

DAGNY: Huh?

WILL: Reverend Alden did. He “took the road less traveled by.”

DAGNY: Oh, I was talking about the cat walking on the back of the couch.

Aldi says he calls his uniform “preacher’s weeds” – a variation on “widow’s weeds,” a traditional nickname for a woman’s mourning clothes.

Aldi gives a nice little speech about how sad he’s gotten with his life, and says he’s going to propose to Mrs. Craig. Charles is delighted.

DAGNY: Oh my God, does she die before he can do it? She does, doesn’t she?

Now we find ourselves back at the Mercantile, where Mrs. Oleson finishes up a transaction with Mrs. Lavish . . . who is wearing Miss Beadle’s old red dress!

I don’t know why this seems improper to me; but it does. That’s one outfit they should have retired in honor of Charlotte Stewart.

Anyways, this is the best look we’ve gotten so far at Lavish, and while I have no official confirmation, I am prepared to endorse the theory a number of readers have floated; viz., that she’s played by Cindy Clerico, who worked as a stand-in and makeup artist on the show and who would eventually become Michael Landon’s third wife. (Either that or it’s somebody who looks a hell of a lot like her.)

It’s established fact (reported by both Gilbert and Grassle in their memoirs) that Landon’s second wife, Lynn Noe, discovered her husband was having an affair with Clerico in 1980, but I don’t know when the relationship began. (This episode aired in October of 1979.)

Landon and Clerico married in 1983 and would have two children together, adding to the five he had with Noe (including Leslie, Michael Junior, and Christopher) and the two he had with his first wife Dodie.

Well, Lavish pushes off, and Reverend Alden appears.

Mrs. Oleson invites him to dinner, but he says he can’t, and then asks to look at some rings. 

Mrs. O sees the writing on the wall and, appalled, lies and tells him they don’t have any.

WILL: Is he going to take a link from his watch chain and make a ring, like Doc?

DAGNY: God, that was horrible.

ROMAN: It was LAME!

But Nels comes in and says what are you talking about, Harriet, sure we’ve got some rings.

Foiled, Mrs. Oleson slaps down her pencil and heads straight out to the Old Whipple Place.

With surprising directness, Mrs. O orders Mrs. Craig to terminate her relationship with the Rev. (Mrs. Craig’s relationship, that is, not Harriet’s.)

Mrs. Oleson says if she doesn’t, she’ll tell everyone the two have been having unmarried relations – you know – and the Rev will be fired from his job.

Mrs. O says she herself has “the deciding vote” on the church Board of Elders, but that could be a bluff.

Stunned, Mrs. C nevertheless says she and Aldi could leave the Grove and look for another parish.

But Mrs. Oleson says she’ll see to it that’s impossible.

With distressing sincerity, Mrs. O says that Mrs. Craig will “ruin [Rev. Alden’s] entire life” if she persists in seeing him. Of course, it’s Harriet herself who’s doing that, but a lot of people transfer blame like this, don’t they?

(I won’t spoil the secret of why Mrs. O is so upset, but I feel MacGregor’s delivery is more enjoyable when you do know and can see how Harriet is plagued by her memories here. Even more enjoyable, I should say.)

Well, Harriet blows out after that, and Anna gasps in shock. Mrs. Craig is a strange role in the great pantheon of Little House characters, and is not loved by everybody (some fans being as protective of these characters as Mrs. Oleson herself), but Iris Korn is very likable in the part, I think.

And now we see Reverend Alden, all unawares, driving his buggy over the ORB to the spot where he and Anna had their date, and where she is standing by the creek. (Why they would meet down here is unknown, since Anna lives nearer to the shores of Lake Ellen.)

Then again, it really isn’t all that far away. Perhaps they’re just fond of ducks.

Aldi hops out of the buggy, calling Anna’s name and bearing flowers.

Apparently Aldi has been looking for her, since she asked him to pick her up at home, but wasn’t there.

Aldi immediately starts to pop the question, but Anna stops him and says, “I can’t see you anymore.”

OLIVE: He’s totally me.

Quite stiffly, she makes a speech about how she wasn’t serious when she confessed her love to him.

OLIVE: He should drown her in Plum Creek.

ROMAN: Kezia would.

AMELIA: Yeah, we haven’t had a good death on this show in a while.

WILL: Yeah. Two episodes.

WILL: What am I saying, we just had one in THIS episode!

Anna does hint at her real reason for dumping the Rev.

DAGNY: Mrs. Oleson. What a twat.

With dismay, Aldi walks like a zombie back to his buggy as dark music rises on the soundtrack.

ROMAN: Did Danny Elfman help David with this score?

It sounds like it. No Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture for this sad romance; more like The Nightmare Before Christmas.

As for Anna, she remains behind, staring at the water.

DAGNY: Does she throw herself in the river? Oh my God, she does, doesn’t she? Oh my God!

That night, a symbolic storm arises.

And poor Aldi sits on the church steps, letting himself be rained upon.

DAGNY: Oh, he’s just like Duckie in Pretty in Pink!

Rev. Alden stands and looks to Heaven, the beams holding up the bell making a nice cross.

AMELIA: Whoa, that’s cool, the cross.

DAGNY [smiling]: Landon.

WILL: Nope, it’s not Landon.

DAGNY: What? It’s Clax?

WILL: Nope.

Nope is right! For it’s a brand-new director, Maury Dexter! 

Now, reader, I can hear you exclaiming “What! Who the fuck is Maury Dexter?” 

(I disapprove of such profane ejaculations myself, but I understand your surprise and will let it pass.) 

This is the first time since “The Election,” all the way back in Season Three, that we’ve had an episode directed by somebody other than William F. Claxton or Michael Landon Himself. That was 48 stories ago!

So who was he? Well, Maury Dexter was initially an actor, getting his start in a Three Stooges short called “Uncivil War Birds.” (It’s got a blackface storyline, so feel free to skip it if you wish.)

Dexter didn’t act for very long, but somehow he wound up producing and directing cheap and cheapish schlock in the 1950s and 1960s, films with titles like Womanhunt, Police Nurse, The Young Swingers, Surf Party, Wild on the Beach and Hell’s Belles.

Perhaps his most notable film was Maryjane, a Rebel Without a Cause ripoff with an anti-marijuana message.

Somewhere along the line, he and Michael Landon became friends. In addition to directing for Little House, Dexter was a director or assistant director on a bunch of Landon classics, including Highway to Heaven, Father Murphy and all three films in the Loneliest Runner/Sam’s Son/Us trilogy.

We’ll judge for ourselves how good a job he does, but we will meet him again several times before our Project is through.

Anyways, I don’t blame Dags for guessing Landon. I would have too.

Aldi can’t really get out what he wants to say to God, so he leaves it at, “I am a man.”

Well, the next Sunday, it’s standing room only at Groveland Congo.

(This is the first time we’ve attended a church service since the organ was installed in “‘Dance With Me,'” and I should point out it’s nowhere to be seen or heard in this episode. I suppose it broke and with Toby Noe dead of anthrax, nobody knew how to fix it.)

Seeming ill, or possibly drunk, Reverend Alden is doing a reading from Job, of course.

You may remember Job from the Bible. He was a nice guy God and the Devil one day decided to play head-games with.

God accepts a sort of bet that if they destroy Job’s life, he’ll stop believing in Him. So they take all his money, kill his children, smite him with boils, etc.

But Job doesn’t crack, and eventually God swoops in and says from now on he’ll only have good luck. Then he has a bunch of new children (including a daughter named Keziah!) to replace the ones that died, so all’s well that ends well as far as that’s concerned.

Anyways, Job is often mentioned metaphorically when someone feels unfairly put upon, and now Alden takes it one step further by reading the story out loud to a captive audience.

“Now, we may ask,” the Rev says, “how the Lord could allow Satan to visit such terrible trials on a man such as Job.”

AMELIA [as DAVID BYRNE]: And you may ask yourself, “Where is my beautiful wife?”

Dabbs Greer really hams it up here, opening and closing his mouth, quivering, and looking around in bafflement. Does his Alden even know where he is? He looks bad.

In addition to those previously mentioned, the townspeople today include Not-Linda Hunt, Poppin’ Bonnet, Bald Will Ferrell, Mr. Penguin Man, and the Prototype Shannen Doherty, who’s sitting next to the Girl Who’s Dressed Sort of Like Heidi, and who is also dressed sort of like Heidi.

The Girl Dressed Sort of Like Heidi notices the Reverend’s distress.

So does Charles Ingalls.

Before you know it, everyone in the congregation is rustling and looking around at each other in dismay in the time-honored tradition of fictional townspeople.

Aldi continues, though, staggering to the side of the pulpit and collapsing.

ALL: OH MY GOD!!!

WILL: Well, he died doing what he loved.

(Thanks to Friend of Groovy Kris H for the gif.)

The congregants leap out of their pews, though Not-Richard Libertini seems oddly unconcerned.

Doc quickly diagnoses him as “burning up with fever.”

Mrs. Craig turns away in horror as they take the body out.

DAGNY: She killed him. She’s to blame. Stone her!

After a commercial, then, we see Mrs. Oleson, looking tired and wearing Rusty, coming down the stairs at Nellie’s and into the dining room.

Nellie is taking an order from J.C. Fusspot and his Visiting Sister, who appear to be the only customers.

Oh, no, there is another guy in the corner. At first I thought it was Hans Dorfler and got excited, but it isn’t.

Apparently Rev. Alden is convalescing at the hotel. Nellie (quite nicely) asks how he’s doing and Harriet gives her an update.

AMELIA:  Reverend Alden doesn’t really die, does he?

OLIVE: I wish.

WILL: Now, why do you dislike Reverend Alden so much?

OLIVE: Well, part of it is that you didn’t raise us in a religious tradition, so ministers always seem mysterious to me. 

WILL: You’re wary of them – fair enough.

OLIVE: But more than that, he’s just so pompous and fussy. He’s constantly meddling, like Pa, but unlike Pa his ideas usually only make things worse.

WILL: Also fair enough.

Anna Craig appears in the doorway with a tray of soup.

Mrs. Oleson demands an explanation, and, hearing that Mrs. C plans to see the Reverend, exclaims, “Well, there are no visitors allowed!”

“What’s his room number?” Mrs. Craig asks calmly.

“Seven,” Nellie says at once. 

ROMAN: Wow!

AMELIA: Yes, thank you, Nellie.

(Reader Vinícius recently observed that Nellie undergoes a personality change this season that begins with things like this and cheering for her Auntie Annabelle, and culminates in her falling in love. (Spoilers.))

Stunned by Nellie’s betrayal, Mrs. Oleson steps into Mrs. Craig’s path.

Again calmly, Mrs. C says, “Mrs.Oleson, if you don’t move out of the way, I will hit you with this tray.” (Cheers from the viewer gallery at this.)

Up in the sickroom, Doc Baker is giving Aldi some medicine. “It’s not supposed to taste good,” he says, “but it might help your cough.”

DAGNY: Buckley’s again.

(Buckley’s actually tastes much worse than I imagine a hockey puck would.)

At the door, Mrs. Craig politely asks if she may enter.

WILL [as REV. ALDEN]: “Begone, temptress! Get behind me, Satan!”

Doc welcomes her and says Aldi needs some TLC. (Mind you, not the nineties girl group of “No Scrubs” fame.)

As she starts putting a bib on the patient, Doc says he needs to go check on “the Gordon baby” – a preemie.

He tells Mrs. C to keep Aldi on the Buckley’s and give him “two of these pills every two hours.” (Not sure what they could be. Aspirin? Not every two hours. My doctor would have a heart attack if he heard that!)

He leaves, and Harriet Oleson appears at the door – but Mrs. Craig simply closes it in her face.

Weak, but astonished, Rev. Alden says, “You do care, don’t you, Anna?”

“Just be quiet and open your mouth,” she smiles at him.

ROMAN: She should feed him like a baby bird. Take a mouthful and pass it to him.

ALEXANDER: Their first kiss.

Then we get that same sunrise/sunset shot again, which today signifies the passing of time.

It’s morning, and Mrs. Oleson rushes from the Mercantile to Nellie’s, ignoring Mrs. Foster’s greeting.

In his room, Rev. Alden wakes up and sees that Anna stayed the night to watch over him.

She takes his hand and says she’ll stay “as long as you need me, Robert.”

Then she quotes Robert Browning to him, saying, “Grow old along with me!”

“The best is yet to be,” Aldi responds.

These are the opening lines of an 1864 poem called “Rabbi ben Ezra,” which was apparently inspired by the writings of a Jewish-Spaniard philosopher who lived in the Middle Ages.

This couplet is frequently used in toasts and the like, though once when I put it in a speech I wrote for a fundraiser, it got taken out because the higher-ups were afraid the big donors, the average age of whom was probably about 78, would be insulted at the suggestion they were “old.” (Idiocy.)

While I did try to use the quote, I’ve actually never loved it, rhymed couplets having a Hallmark-card insipidity about them in my view. But the full poem is really thoughtful, framing old age as something not to be feared, but rather to be embraced as a rich and rewarding step in the journey of the human body and soul. (I like Browning; and his wife was no slouch either.)

Then Anna leans down and kisses Aldi on the mouth.

OLIVE: Ugh. When was the last chance he had to brush his teeth? 

And of course, at exactly that moment, Mrs. Oleson opens the door.

She starts to flee, turns around, pop-eyed, to stare again, squawks, “Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” and slams the door.

(I have collected over 900 images of Katherine MacGregor making faces, and yet I keep adding new ones. Every one is unique.)

Anyways, at this, Aldi laughs.

Mrs. Oleson rushes down and says to Nellie, “I caught them making love!”

AMELIA: Making love! This is the kinkiest Little House so far.

This always gets a big laugh from the audience, but it’s worth remembering that “making love” originally referred to flirting, hand-holding, snuzzling, etc., rather than You-Know-What-ing. That other meaning began to appear in the 1920s. (Funny commentary on the terminology here.)

(By the way, like I said, every face unique.)

Harriet declares she’s going to telegraph “the general synod of the church” to rat Aldi out as a sex fiend.

Synods are councils that exist for various purposes within Christian churches. (The one governing the sect in which I was raised is famous for its mercilessness.)

As a Congregationalist church, Groveland would have been self-governing and have no central authority to report to, though some individual churches did have synods that played an advisory role. 

Back at Plum Creek again, we see that Anna and Aldi are having a little picnic, so he must be doing better. (We can tell it isn’t a hallucination because there’s no blurry camerawork or David Rose nightmare music.)

Aldi is pouring his heart out into a lil notebook, just like that other great Little House Romeo, John Junior. 

The Rev’s trying to write a new sermon.

He says he always struggles to compose them, and Anna says, “You’d never know it! Your sermons are always wonderful.” (Such are the effects of lust goggles, as you may have experienced yourself.)

Then the lovers change the subject to their a) mutual happiness and b) impending nuptials, in that order. You know, just this week we went and saw Cabaret at the Guthrie Theater. (All the theaters are dusting off their anti-fascism warhorses these days.) 

The plot of “The Preacher Takes a Wife” is quite similar to the storyline with the old people in that one, with Harriet Oleson standing in for the Third Reich.

Anyways, Aldi leers at Anna a bit. (Michael Landon, there’s no need to see this character leering at anyone, so please tell us it’s not ever going to happen again.)

Then they wander along the Creek.

OLIVE: Oh, those ducks are cute.

Indeed, the actors are upstaged at this point by a little squadron of ducks that marches into the frame in a single file behind them.

Strangely, Aldi implies Charles will be marrying them. We know he serves as a (pontificating) lay preacher when Alden’s away, but I doubt he’d have legal authority to marry anybody.

But Aldi doesn’t worry about this, and the two start sucking face again.

WILL: [makes obscene tongue-wriggling noises]

OLIVE: Oh my God, Dad.

Well, reader, so far this has been an agreeable and well-executed story, but hardly one rising to the highest tier in our overall Saga.

But now, with a bare twelve minutes or so to go, we will find things jolted in a completely new direction.

Watch, please.

In the church, Reverend Alden is setting out hymnals and such whilst singing the 1873 hymn “Blessed Assurance.”

WILL: He can’t even sing secular songs when he’s in love?

(Sounds a bit like “Anges pures, anges radieux” from Faust.)

(Which in turn sounds a bit like the theme to Star Trek: The Next Generation.)

A mild-looking middle-aged man appears in the sanctuary. He’s also dressed in “preacher’s weeds.”

You may recognize him as William Schallert, whom we previously met as tax official Mr. Snell – that’s right, the one whose name sounds like something eatin’ yer cabbage plants – in “Centennial.”

You may also recognize him as Dean Butler’s father-in-law from The New Gidget.

But in this case, he’s a minister with the title of “Dean Harmon.”

Soon the two men switch to Christian names.

Alden expresses surprise to see Harmon, and Harmon says “I know” apologetically.

Harmon, a representative of the General Synod, produces the accusatory telegram from Mrs. Oleson.

With genuine anger, Aldi says, “You can’t believe that scandalous garbage.”

Harmon says he doesn’t believe it, but he’s duty-bound to investigate.

Alden quickly explains, pointing out the woman involved in this “scandalous” relationship is also his fianceé.

DAGNY: So, do they really think he’s molesting this elderly woman? It’s not like he’s chasing young girls.

Well, the whole business is a little strange, since as we noted Protestant ministers can marry. But on the other hand, an unmarried couple spending the night together would violate the mores of the time, and, in other circumstances, could be evidence of a bad lapse of judgment from the pastor of a church, I suppose.

Dean Harmon, however, makes his assessment clear by offering Aldi sincere congratulations.

That said, he notes that a scandal doesn’t need to be true to be damaging. (More editorializing from Landon?)

Harmon says he’ll speak to Mrs. Oleson, but that if she keeps raising a stink about it, Aldi might find it easier simply to retire after marrying Anna.

Gravely, Aldi says, “I love this church. . . . I love these people . . .”

He’s not quivering – he’s actually quite still. (Dabbs is fantastic here.)

Then he adds, “But if it comes to it I’ll choose Anna.”

ALL: OH MY GOD!!! What! He just met her! etc.

DAGNY: Choose love over his flock? This is like The Thorn Birds.

Anyone else surprised by this decision? We were. Aldi’s got the fever, I guess.

But Dean Harmon says he understands.

WILL: It’s odd they’re having this conversation sideways.

Harmon then begins to share some unsavory anecdote from his past, but quickly thinks better of it.

He says he’ll talk to Mrs. Oleson, saying it may be possible for Alden to enjoy “the best of both worlds” (origin disputed).

But then, he doesn’t know Harriet Oleson, does he?

At the Mercantile, then, we see Willie pulling fistfuls of jawbreakers from a jar.

Nels appears and yells at him, and he runs out just as Dean Harmon arrives.

AMELIA: He looks like Nels. Does he turn out to be his long-lost sibling too?

These two nice mild-mannered men who look strangely alike shake hands.

Nels says the Dean’s visit is not unanticipated – it’s clear he doesn’t know the exact reason for the visit, though, or he’d be making pro-Aldi protestations.

Then Harriet appears.

As she and Dean Harmon stare at each other in poorly-concealed astonishment, Nels is called to assist a customer.

In a strange voice, Harmon says he and Mrs. Oleson will discuss their business outside.

DAGNY: Is that a puka necklace? Bros like Justin Bieber wear them.

Without a word, Harriet walks outside, as Nels goes to attend to Poppin’ Bonnet and a woman wearing a fedora.

She and Dean Harmon sit in his buggy, staring forward.

“It’s been a long time, Harriet,” Dean Harmon says.

“Yes it has, Russell,” Harriet says.

You probably know how this goes. Twenty-three years earlier, Harmon and Harriet were engaged to be married. (He doesn’t mention her maiden name, dammit!)

DAGNY: That explains why he looks like Nels. She’s got a type.

But Dean H left her at the altar. Or, at the very least, near it.

They also drive down to the Old Rustic Bridge Zone. I suppose it’s a more popular destination since the Larrabees were forced out.

Now, Dean Harmon’s buggy does have yellow wheels.

Mrs. Oleson, who’s completely shifted out of comic-villainess mode, won’t look Harmon in the face.

Dean Harmon awkwardly says he understands it’s a conflict of interest for them to be dealing with this matter.

But Harriet immediately changes the subject to the past, and it comes out that, forced to choose between “marriage and the ministry,” he chose the latter.

Harriet tells us Harmon explained this decision by saying he was “already wed to the church.”

DAGNY: Just like Captain Stubing is wed to the sea!

They talk for a while. 

DAGNY: My God, this is like one of those Spanish-language soap operas.

OLIVE: A telenovela.

In all seriousness, their conversation is a genuinely painful one, with a strange ring of truth about it. The actors are both great.

Dean Harmon acknowledges treating her wrongly, and says, “The question was, did I love you or God more?”

DAGNY: You see, there it is! The Thorn Birds! [as RICHARD CHAMBERLAIN:] “I shall never love God . . . MORE THAN I LOVE YOU!!” 

(The Thorn Birds miniseries hadn’t been made yet in 1979 . . . but the novel was published in 1977 and was hugely popular. I say we count it as an influence.)

[UPDATE: My sister Peggy, a serious student of The Thorn Birds, notes the actual quote is “My punishment is never to be sure again that I love God more than you!” – WK]

(Dags said, “I like that one because it looks like he’s about to motorboat her.”)

Dean Harmon says he hopes his choice ultimately allowed Harriet to have a better life than she would have with him.

DAGNY: You know, being married to a minister IS a difficult life. It causes a lot of stress for a couple. I know this because I watched The Rev.

And I know it because I saw a monologue called “Bed Among the Lentils” in London in 1997 where Maggie Smith played a vicar’s sad, alcoholic wife. It’s a brilliant piece.

Harmon says just talking to Nels for five minutes, he can tell he’s a good egg.

“I’m very proud of my family,” Harriet says with genuine feeling. (My God, how many Walnut Groovy Awards does Katherine MacGregor want?)

Harmon is pleased to hear that, and he sadly adds he never married anyone else.

WILL: He should sing “Have You Heard About the Lonesome Loser?”

Harmon then says Rev. Alden is his old mentor, and that Harriet knows what a good man he is.

“He’s been your minister and your friend for years,” he says.

Indeed, this is one of the things I really do hate about Harriet Oleson as a character – her propensity for taking sides against her friends for no good reason. It’s like a reflex for her, and it doesn’t make much sense.

Harriet shows off her Bible knowledge by citing Proverbs 24:16, but she knows he’s right.

(Of course he can fall if you tie a string round his legs.)

Harmon pleads, “Don’t punish him for my mistakes!”, saying she’s about to curse Aldi with the same unhappy life he’s had.

Harriet literally wrings her hands . . . and then suddenly we’re back in the church, where Alden’s a-waitin’.

Mrs. Oleson approaches Rev. Alden and says, “Reverend Alden . . . I want to ask you to forgive me.”

Aldi whips his head around in astonishment, almost.

Mrs. O bursts into tears then and rushes out.

Dean Harmon approaches his friend, smiling.

AMELIA [laughing]: Alden’s, like, “What the fuck did you say?”

And he basically does express that sentiment, not in those exact words of course.

Harmon smiles, but does not explain the mystery.

And suddenly we’re outside the church, and yes, the wedding is really happening.

Dean Harmon himself conducts the ceremony. (Which makes more sense than Charles doing it.)

DAGNY: Even as a kid that pissed me off. “Man and wife.”

And then Aldi and Anna come rushing out to a waiting buggy, which is decorated with ribbons and bows and shoes. (A very old custom. I don’t know where it came from.)

DAGNY: Look, she has a third outfit. That’s a lot for a one-time character. 

A lot of people come streaming out of the church after them – far more than it could accommodate, I think!

ROMAN: Does this whole episode turn out to be a dream?

The kids throw rice (Philomena!) and the oldsters drive off. Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum!

STYLE WATCH:

Nellie wears Puffy Pinky.

Charles appears to go commando again.

THE VERDICT: Somewhat absurd, and certainly bizarre in the context of our larger Saga, this one is nevertheless quite likable. Greer and MacGregor are perfect, and the plot twist with Dean Harmon is surprisingly gripping. It may be no “‘I’ll Be Waving,'” but in giving us this unexpected Harriet/Alden feud, the series shows it still has some very good surprises in store.

Now, of course the final question is, “Whatever became of this new Mrs. Reverend Alden?” Indeed, this is a mystery the show never explains.

But keep your eyes open for clues, folks. I don’t have any specific theories yet . . . but remember, in Walnut Grove, Minnesota, death lurks around every corner! See you next time.

UP NEXT: The Halloween Dream (uh-oh)