A picture of Rebecca with Earl Hamner and the congratulatory message she received from Mr. Hamner.
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Dear Rebecca,
Congratulations on having won the Internet Walton's Poetry Contest! Your poem moved me deeply and I am sure it will touch my brothers and sisters and the actors who portray them. It was quite a challenge to include everybody in the family, but you did it most artfully. You also captured the feeling of the everyday life of the family and the true fabric of their lives. You are a fine writer and I predict that your talent will produce more exciting works in the future. Sincerely, Earl Hamner Jr. |
The Song of John-Boy Walton
In the years of the Depression,
In the lofty Blue Ridge Mountains,
Stood the home of John-Boy Walton,
Eldest boy-child of the Waltons.
Proud behind it rose the mountain,
Rose the fragrant honeysuckle,
Rose the redbud and the dogwood;
Nearby flowed the Rockfish River,
Flowed the sparkling sunlit waters,
Flowed the slow, strong, slate blue waters.
There the lad named John-Boy Walton
Spent his boyhood, free and happy;
Fished for bass and carp and catfish,
Hunted deer upon the mountain.
Pen in hand, the young boy scribbled,
Penned each moment of his boyhood;
Wrote about his home and family,
Of his brothers and his sisters,
Of his Mama and his Daddy.
Who are they, the Walton family?
Living there, on Walton's Mountain?
John-Boy's memories are inscribed here.
Many things his Grandpa taught him,
Of the green plants in the forest;
Told him all the family's history,
Of their history on the mountain.
Grandma Walton taught young John-Boy
Of the truths learned in the Bible;
Taught his sisters cooking, sewing,
How to smoothly run the household.
Daddy Walton ran a sawmill.
Mama raised her many children:
John-Boy, the aspiring writer;
Red-haired Jason, the musician;
Family tomboy, Mary Ellen;
And young Ben, so down-to-earth-like;
Jim Bob, soaring with the eagles;
Pretty Erin, young Elizabeth.
All these children grew together,
Played together, worked together.
When those years had passed, this John-Boy,
Oft times filled with old nostalgia,
Thought about his friends and family
And his home on Walton's Mountain.
John-Boy, thrilling to the memories,
Memories harkening back to childhood,
Of the Waltons and their neighbors,
Wrote their tales for all to cherish.
And I think that as the sun sets
Every night upon that mountain
Even yet the echoes linger,
Loving words, so gently spoken,
Good night, John-Boy. Good night, Waltons.
Rebecca's poem is also featured on Ralph's Walton's site and on Karen's Walton's site.