In 1954, 19,000,000 households tuned in each week to watch "Father Knows Best," and by 1960, it was finishing in the top ten every week. The program featured Robert Young as the wise father, Jim Anderson, an insurance salesman who loved his wife and children, Jane Wyatt (Margaret) was his loving and supportive wife, Elinor Donahue (Betty) their oldest child, Billy Gray (Bud) as his teenage son, and Lauren Chapin (Kathy) as his very young daughter.
The program was a mixture of wisdom and humor with a message as the Anderson family went on, week by week, facing and solving with grace, dignity, and humor, the situations families faced back then.
More often than not, the humor revolved around Billy Gray ("Bud") because of the dilemmas he would get into and the lines he would say in such a way as not to advertise, "Hey-this-is -a-joke-see?"
In one episode, Jim is reading the newspaper when his wife comes into the room, worried because their oldest daughter (Betty) is going steady. Jim reads aloud a story from a newspaper about a girl who eloped, taking $200 with which her aunt was going to buy a TV set.
Bud looks up seriously and asks, "What size screen, Dad?"
The shows' humor would be almost unrecognizable today--it was without sarcasm, double entendres, snide remarks, and put-downs. The children were decently behaved, not one step away from juvenile delinquency. Each of the three children loved each other and their parents.
The plots would be unrecognizable today as well. One episode featured Kathy's placing a crippled, rain-soaked sparrow in a nest and then going upstairs to her room and praying to God that the little bird would live. (William D. Russell directed the first 62 episodes and the cast would
often see him weeping as the shows progressed, so impressed was he with
the wholesome message they were conveying to the millions of us.)
Jim Anderson wasn't a bumbling fool; he was neither helpless nor clueless when it came to raising a family and dealing with the bumps and bruises of life with wisdom, love, and grace.
And now, here's the problem: Billy Gray, all grown up (he just turned 77 last month) decided that he wanted to apologize for the program that made him famous. Here's what he said about the show: "I think we were all well motivated, but what we did was run a hoax. Father Knows Best
purported to be a reasonable facsimile of life. And the bad thing is
that the model is so deceitful. ... If I could say anything to make up
for all the years I lent myself to that kind of [program]it would be: You know best."
His remarks bothered me to no end, so I decided to send a letter to "Bud Anderson."
The content of the letter is as follows:
Dear Mr. Gray.
As a teenager, I and my family, along with millions and millions of others, never, and I mean, never, missed "Father Knows Best," and you were our favorite character, week after week. Hands down, no doubt it, you were just like my friends and me.
So it was with interest mingled with sadness that I read your apology for the show, noting that you said it was "deceitful" and "a hoax."
I want you to know that what you ran wasn't a hoax; the family portrayed on "Father Knows Best" was our family and the families of my friends. Your program re-enforced our values; your series showed us not what we could be, but what we were. "Father Knows Best" was our weekly vitamin pill, a weekly announcement that said, "Hey, you're on the right track. Keep it up."
My father was "Jim Anderson:: wise, full of love, grace, and humor. He and my mother were married for almost 65 years. He was a Scoutmaster who influenced about a thousand boys over the years; he encouraged each one of us to make Proverbs 3:5-6 our motto for life. Those boys went into all kinds of professions becoming doctors, educators, policemen, realtors, lawyers, scientists, and bankers. Some went into insurance, others the military; one became a radio astronomer.
In all my years of growing up, I had only one friend whose parents got divorced. The families of my friends were rock solid, just like yours on "Father Knows Best."You five people were a reflection of who we were, not what we wanted to be.
Nobody ever yelled in our homes, no one ever slammed a door or a cabinet. Nobody was on drugs; that was unthinkable. As far as I knew, there were no rules against bringing a gun to school because nobody would think of such a thing anyway, so why put the prohibition in the student handbook?
Dad prayed at every meal; got up early Monday-Friday, went to the office early so he could read his Bible before giving his employer a full day's work. I never heard him complain about his job or any of his coworkers. Not once. I never saw him react in anger or hurl an unkind word at anyone.
My friends and I grew up in a city of 100,000, so we're not talking about our living in a rural village in a bubble. My friends and I were in church every Sunday and gladly so. We went to the movies, went swimming at the public pools, played football, basketball, and baseball in each others' backyards and in the park. We hunted birds with our B-B guns, and ran behind DDT trucks in our alleys to experience the phenomenon of not being able to see each other in the white smoke. We enjoyed each other and laughed a lot.
And, oh yes, we watched "Father Knows Best," thinking, "That's our family."
My mother turned 94 this month, and you know what I sent her for her birthday? "Father Knows Best Season 1." When the gift arrived, she called me, thrilled to death. It brought back such great memories of our family and yours, and the way it was.
You didn't run a hoax, Mr. Gray. Have no regrets. That's the way we were, like Jim, Margaret, Betty, Bud, and Kathy Anderson.
10,000 blessings,
Dr. Mike Halsey
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