 Family Theater presents Audrey Totter, Jeff Chandler, and Regis Toomey. On Hollywood, the Mutual Broadcasting System in cooperation with Family Theater presents Jeff Chandler and Audrey Totter in The Promise. To introduce the drama, here is your host, Regis Toomey. Thank you, Tony Lattrano. First a word about Family Theater's purpose. Family Theater is dedicated to the promotion of family prayer To the belief that if we pray, we will have peace in our times. Peace in our world. And now to our drama, starring Audrey Totter and Jeff Chandler in The Promise. It was the quiet after the storm. We'd said every hot word we knew, every hateful hot word. Then there was no more to say. I was driving, except for the singing of the tires, the silence had been oppressive. The thrill's gone, isn't it, Pat? I remember when, just to be with you like this, driving somewhere was enough. All right, let's not talk about it until we get home. You're tired and I'm sore. No matter what we say, we'll only keep hurting each other all the more. All right. But it's all over between us, and we both know it. Yeah. Please don't drive so fast. I'd like to get there in one piece. Okay, okay. You want to be in Frisco in the morning, don't you? But the road's sopping. You can barely see through the windshield. One mistake and we'll be in it. One mistake? The whole trip was a mistake. I thought I'd drive you to Salt Lake City for the special broadcast, and, well, on the way and back, I'd get some time with you alone. Time to patch up differences. Time to say the words I want to say like I used to say them. Nothing you've said thus far sound very reminiscent to me. Because the words get all tangled up. They come out poisoned. Do they? You know they do. We end up like a couple of polite enemies. Look, do you mind if I pull over and stop? The road's pretty broad here. Maybe we can talk. Isn't it rather dismal in the rain? Well, if you want to, okay. Well, the rain is monotonous, but the silence is worse. I thought you had something to say. Look, Alicia, for six months I've been trying to get up courage to ask you this question. Is there anyone else? No. There never could be. What is it you want then? Success. I'm sold on success, Pat. I want to be a somebody with a capital S. A radio personality as important as Joe Stafford or Dinah Shaw. Tops. You think you can climb faster alone, is that it? Yes. All right. You can divorce me if you like. I won't stand in your way. I might have waited another week before you told me this. This noose. At least till after Christmas. Let's leave the holly and mistletoe out of it, shall we? Sure. Let's be realistic. Let's be modern. Kick sentiment in the teeth. That way it's easier. And if you ask me a lot more civilized, it'll be easier on my nerves right now if you'd slow down. We're coming to Snow Creek Bridge. It's right after this tour. I know the road. Pat, there's a car coming. Relax. I see it. It's on the wrong side. Pat, look out! No, shut up! The road, Pat! Let's keep our wits tight to get out of this sardine, Kent. Pat, darling, that's a lucky thing I could open that door. Are you all right? Don't forget me. It's you. I'm... Stand back and it's sliding again! Pat, it's in the river down there. But I still got you. I'll take that back. I'd forgotten. Let's get off the muddy slope back up the road. Grab these bushes. They'll help us climb. At least I think I see a light way down the canyon. Are you sure? Look, you see it? There it is again. I'll go down and see you wait here. And freeze to death? No, I'll go with you. Give me a hand. It's a bad slope. Here. Okay, this way. There it is, all right. Is that a house? Certainly it is. Look, that light I saw, it's the same one there in the window, like a traveler's beacon. But the house is like an overgrown doll's house. I only built a stone and a funny little fence. I bet I'm frightened. Don't be. Come on, let's go in. Where's the gate? Oh, here it is, right in front of us. Uh-oh, dogs. Don't be afraid of the dogs. They mean no harm. Welcome. Oh, hello. My name's Adams. This is my wife, Alicia. Hello. A hit-and-run driver knocked us off the bridge. I know, I heard the crash. I've been expecting you. Come in. A white-haired old man held an oil lamp above his head, leading away. I noticed his face was seemed with age. Gentle, kindly, but strange. The room was pleasant enough, arranged as if company was expected. A cheery log fire burned on the white hearth. I'll get you coffee. Oh, you mustn't go to any trouble. If we can just sit here until morning. I always make coffee for them. It's very comforting. Take off your coats. Hang them here by the fire to dry. For the first time, I had a good look at our clothes. What I saw astonished me. The sleeves of my jacket were slashed from shoulder to wrist. Alicia's skirt was ripped of stockings and ribbons. A coat torn across the back between the shoulders. I looked again at my jacket. There was a big jagged tear over the heart. We're not scratched, either of us. They never understand at first. They go on thinking they're alive. What? I try to tell them, but they won't believe me. Well, they're alive. You can see for yourself. Wait here by the fire. I'll get some goat's milk for you. I keep it fresh and cold in the creep. He thinks we're dead. I know. He's a little touched, I guess. Just for a minute, I couldn't help thinking we might be. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. If we are, it would be sort of wonderful, wouldn't it? What? No pain or blood or anything. And being here. When I was a kid, I had a storybook. There was a picture in it I've never forgotten. A room like this. Pat. Yeah? Pinch my arm. See if I feel it. I know you don't. We're strangers, remember? Yeah. Bet the old man built this place himself, stone by stone. Yeah, solid it is. Rooted deep like a tree. Oh, I can't all houses feel like this. It is solid, isn't it? You know, this place stirs up my imagination. I could work here. That book of mine would write itself. Alicia. Yes, Pat? Suppose I could talk the old man into renting this place. Not for longer. A year, perhaps. I could toss our jobs over the moon and really live here. Would you do it? Would you be happy? I'd be bored to death. Why do you ask? To make me seem selfish. He's back. I brought the milk and a crock of cheese. We are very kind. We're complete strangers. No, you're guests. My name is Peter Fauner. I came from Switzerland when my young wife died. I couldn't bear to be near the scenes familiar to us. I roamed all over the world. When I discovered this canyon beneath Snow Creek Bridge, I knew I'd come home again. It's so peaceful, except when there's an accident. Like tonight. Oh, have there been many such? Twenty persons have lost their lives on that bridge. Twenty-two counting tonight. They all come here. I remember the first two. A middle-aged farmer and his wife from Kansas. What do you mean they come here? Just like you did. I'd watched the ambulance take away their bodies, so I was shocked when they walked up to my gate. I thought, what you're thinking, that I was out of my mind. Yes, go on. I took them in. They were frightened, like lost children. How long did they stay? A few hours. In the morning I asked them what they wanted to do. They said they hoped to go to heaven. What did you do? I asked myself, where is heaven? I'd never given much thought to things, but I supposed it was up in the sky. What then? I cut them some staves and carved their names on them. Beth and Joel Burnett. I remember them well. It was March the 10th, 1920. What did you go with them? I led them as far as I could to the summit of Old Whiteface. That's 6,000 feet. They thanked me and said goodbye and went on. I stood in the snow watching them for some time. They seemed to climb a trail of light up and up until I could see them no more. I hope they made it all right. They always do. There have been many, you say? Many. Men, women and children. The children were always afraid until they saw... Saw what? Someone always came down the trail to meet the children. I'm taking the milk and the cheese back to the creek, son. Would you like to come with me? Yes, I would. Let me take that crunk. Be careful, son. The trail is narrow. But there aren't any obstructions. I've worn it smooth with my comings and goings. I'll follow you. What's that? Can't be frightened. They're my creatures. Perhaps they think I've come to feed them again, but it's not time. They come so close. Look at those deer. So close right now I could touch them. I thought they could sense a stranger. It isn't that you're a stranger. What is it then? You're a spirit now. You weren't gone long, but the dishes are done. I've stacked them here near the cupboard. Is there any place we could sleep for a few hours, perhaps, till daybreak? There are no beds, but I'll bring some quilts. Here, I'll put them near the fire. I'm really tired. I'll just drift off, I know. What about you, Peter? Don't you ever sleep? When you're old, it's consciousness you treasure. Every minute of it, I like to watch the fire and listen to the sounds, but you two must rest. Tomorrow, you have a long way to go. What'll you do now? Are you sure we're not disturbing you? Oh, no. Put yourselves at ease here. I must carve your staves, as I did for all the others. I keep a supply of holes. One for Alicia first, then yours. How long will they take? They'll be ready when you awaken. Rest well. I'll sleep the sleep of the de- the just. I lay there with my eyes closed, but I didn't go to sleep right away. Scenes kept running through my mind like strips of motion picture film, but backwards, back to the time I first saw Alicia. I was in France. I was in the 47th Tank Battalion. She was a singer with the USO troop that came up to the front. She was so beautiful, my heart began playing hopscotch. When she sang, I won her. It wasn't easy. Now it seems so unreal. Now I was losing her. That was unreal, too. Miss Old Man, was he real or was I just dreaming it? The accident in army? Maybe we were dead. Suddenly, I heard myself screaming. Alicia! Alicia! What is it, Pa? I guess I dosed off. We were being buried in the same grave. Where's the old man? He's outside. I heard him go out. Perhaps he's gone again to the creek. Look, Alicia, he's finished the staves. They're lying there already for us. Come on, let's get out of here fast. It's too spooky. Don't stop to argue. Here's your coat. No, Pat, no. We can't go. What can we tell Peter? We'll tell him he's mistaken and thanks. We've got to get back to our jobs. It's time for you to start your journey. Are you ready? Yes. Yes, we're ready. Here are your staves. I've marked your names. Yes, I see. Thank you. You've gone to so much work. What delicate carving. I will come with you a part of the distance. It's a beautiful morning. Come. Holds out. Oh, that was some climb. How much farther? There is white face. If you climb the west flank, you'll have no trouble. You should reach the summit before nightfall. Well, you're coming with us, of course. No, I'm an old man. My heart is old and rusty and tired. Then it's goodbye. Only for a little while. I'll be coming along myself on Christmas Eve. Oh, no. Surely you're mistaken. No, my friends. I am not mistaken. I am like my creatures. I know when my time has come. But surely, Peter... I wonder if you would do something for me. Anything. Anything I can, of course. Would you be willing to speak to God? In my behalf? Explain to him that I am old and tired. That I did not sell many of my carvings in the town this year. Now, with the great storms coming, I do not have much feed in my sheds for my wild creatures. They will all come back. On Christmas Eve, I myself must climb the mountain. Tell him this. I will be gone and my sheds will be empty. He will understand. He will send someone to take my place. I have no doubt. No doubt at all. We'll deliver your message. Yes, Peter. We promise. Thank you. Thank you both. Now I must go down again. God speed you. We watched him go slowly down until a turn of the mountain carried him from sight. Finally, Alicia broke the silence. What a wonderful old man. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves. We lied to him through our teeth. Did we? Oh, Pat, you did not really fall for all that nonsense. You did? Well, maybe for a minute. He was so sure. But in this day and age, for a moment I forgot to think straight. I wonder what came over us. I don't know about you, but I'm going to the top of that mountain. Pat Adams, you... Now who thinks we're dead? I do. Oh, he couldn't be. I feel so alive. Don't you like being alive? I do. I can think of a thousand reasons why, especially now. Name them. Oh, music and coffee and hot baths and hats and spring and flying. And you. On the level? Uh-huh. Maybe this had happened to put us straight with ourselves. If I were alone, I'd keep my promise to Peter. I'd go on. I want life. It's wonderful. Okay, then. Let's go down and see whether people can see us. I think that path will take us to the bridge. Mr. State Highway Patrol, has your pleaded accordion down on the river? He can see us. So he can. Look, mate, is that your crumpled car down on the river? How did you guess? Look at your claws. What happened? Hit and run, driver. Why didn't you report it? Where have you been? We've been dead. I get it. You've been down at Peter Fauner's down there in the canyon. You know him? Of course. What about him? Is he? Claims he sees the ghosts of people killed on this bridge. Harmless, though. From the looks of that car down there, you barely escaped being ghosts at that. I guess you're right. Got a license? Damn, if I haven't lost it, oh, here it is. Patrick Adams, San Francisco. Who's the lady? My wife, Alicia. I'm Alicia Adams. Alicia Adams? You must be the gal that sings on the radio. I am. And I've got to sing from San Francisco this very afternoon. Can you get us there? For you, lady, anything is possible. I'm one of your fans. The cop was as good as his word. He flagged down a bus. In San Francisco, he changed to a taxi and headed for the studio. Alicia grew more and more anxious. Miss Adams, you're on the air in 40 seconds. Oh, wait, Alicia. I've got to know something. I'm on the air. Let me go. No, you tell me now. You fool. I've got to go in. Answer me. Do you want a divorce? Yes. Yes, I do. That was the splitter. Alicia didn't come home. Instead, she phoned. It was wonderful while it lasted, but I guess I'm not cut out to be a wife. And then she was gone. I read later in the trade papers she was going east. Television, I guess. She certainly had the looks for it. I've read... Let me have another one of the same, huh? Look, Pat, this is a filling station, but I think your tank's about 11. What's the matter? Is my money any good? Sure, sure, Pat. But you can't drown nothing big in one of them little glasses. All right, give me a big glass, then. Now, Pat, use the old bean. You don't want to be fogged up with Christmas coming. Christmas? Yeah, tomorrow night's Christmas Eve. Hey, hey, Fred, you believe in anything? Oh, sure, I believe in lots of things. All right, now, get this. There's the mountain. Yeah? You can't see it, can you? No. But if I can make you believe it, sir, it is. It is? You don't get it? Get what? I'm talking about faith. Faith is coming up for a test pretty soon. How's that? The scientists are working on it. Final tests of faith. Hey, you better watch out, Fred. You better have faith or else. Oh, you got it? Sure, I got it. A whole mountain full. Now, why's it making much sense? They got me in a cab later in the cab. He put me to bed. Next morning, my head was the mountain. But after breakfast, I felt better. I saw in the papers there was a blizzard in the Sierras that made me think of old Peter Fauna. He'd said the storms would be heavy. Maybe I could be of some use up there. I called Alicia again. Good afternoon, Vaughan Hotel. Oh, is Alicia Adams in? I'm sorry, Miss Adams has gone out. Any message? No. No message, thanks. I went to a neighborhood garage that advertised cars for rent. Oh, say, could I rent a car for a couple of days? Sure thing, mister. Take your pick over there. I want to carry some supplies to a friend. Have you got a good, sturdy one? How's about that station wagon back against the wall? Yeah, yeah, just a thing. Have you got any change to go with it? I think I'll need them. I'll scout you out a pair. It was a long, lonely drive, rough going in many spots. I crossed Snow Creek Bridge and found a place to park on the other side. The trail down to Peter's was choked with snow, but I started down. Old Peter's place was twice as pretty in a setting of snow, and it was ringed around with animal tracks. Then I noticed there was only a faint whisper of smoke from the chimney, barely a trace. Peter's beacon light was out, too. I shouted, Peter! Peter Fauner! I called again, but there was no reply, so I went in. The dogs didn't growl much. They were at his feet. Peter? Peter, are you asleep? Aren't you going to welcome me? Wake up. There's no time to be sleeping when you have a guest. Then I noticed the staff leaning against the fireplace who was beautifully finished. The name was carved in. Peter Fauner. I went back and touched his folded hands. I lit the beacon and went to the door. Just then I saw a flicker of light coming down the trail. I waited. Alicia! I thought you'd be here. I had to come. I couldn't stop thinking of him. Is he all right? Oh, Pat. He did know, didn't he? He knew that he'd go on Christmas Eve. And look, isn't his staff beautiful there by the fireplace? Yes. Pat, you'll think I'm silly, but this morning I went to church and prayed. I prayed what he asked us to say. Please send someone to care for Peter Fauner's creatures. Pat, we've been sent. Don't you see? I did get through. I was heard. We're here. I'm going to stay here all winter if I can. I am too. Oh, Pat, can I give myself back to you so Christmas present with all my love? You're the only Christmas present I would have. We got our second chance, didn't we? To be together. To make our marriage work. It will, darling. This time it will. Alicia, look. Dad, what? He did staff by the fireplace. It's gone. You know, I'm one of those persons who's forever interested in all the new and wonderful gadgets that come out every week. Whenever someone brings out a new potato peeler or a better mousetrap, you'll find me in the admiration lineup wondering what won't they invent next. Yes, this is the age of invention, all right. The gadgetry that surrounds us in our kitchens, offices, and workshops gives adequate testimony to what I mean. Running thoughts like these over in my mind the other day, I asked myself, what is man's greatest, his foremost invention? After I'd thought about it a good deal, I began putting the question to a number of my friends. Most of their answers centered on new things, but an occasional person said, the wheel or fire. So many said the atom bomb that I shuttered. I think I'm inclined to share the opinion of my philosophical friends that the greatest invention man ever made is certainly one of the first and oldest, language. And pursuing the subject even farther, what is the highest form of language? Of course, it's prayer. It is through prayer that we thank God, who gave man vocal cords for spoken language, hands to shape the first written language, eyes and lips for the language of love, and knees for the language of humility. Family theater again reminds you, the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Family theater has brought you Jeff Chandler and Audrey Todder in the promise. Regis Toomey was your host. Others in our cast were Norman Field, Tudor Owen, Paul Maxey, Landbeardsley, Chris Kraft, and Bill Irwin. This radio adaptation of Mildred Cram's Beloved Story was by James Roach. Music was composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman, and the production was directed for Family Theater by Joseph F. Mansfield. This is Tony Lofrano expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to be with us next week at the same time when Family Theater will present Irene Dunn, James Cagney, and Jean Cagney in Tommy Malone Comes Home. Join us, won't you? Family Theater's broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network, the Mutual Broadcasting System.