 Family Theatre presents Ruth Hussie and Stephen McNally. From Hollywood, the Mutual Network in Cooperation with Family Theatre presents Big Day starring Stephen McNally. And now, here is your hostess, Ruth Hussie. Thank you, Tony LaFranco. Family Theatre's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives if we're to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world. Family Theatre urges you to pray. Pray together as a family. Now to our transcribed drama, Big Day starring Stephen McNally as Jim. It started with what I thought was a toothache. That was last Sunday, just a week ago. I'd taken Jimmy to the doubleheader against Cleveland and when we got home there was a plate of cold chicken in the icebox and a note on the kitchen table from Eleanor. It opened from Sturges this afternoon and mom's got another of her headaches so I'm going over to help with dinner. I'll be home by 10. George will drive me. P.S. Don't eat all the chicken. It was still light when Jim and I finished the dishes and I told him he could ride his bike to late 30. After he left I went out back and turned on the sprinklers. The rose climber that Eleanor had put in last fall had almost doubled in size. The blooms were yellow, almost a dozen of them, some as big as your fist. I let the sprinklers run for about 10 minutes then I went back into the house and looked through the Sunday paper. Jimmy didn't get home till almost 9 so I bawled him out and sent him to bed. By 9.30 I realized I wasn't going to make it myself so I left a note for Eleanor and went upstairs. I was asleep before I hit the pillow. When the pain woke me it was half to 3 a.m. Oh brother. What's the matter honey? There's a toothache. Man oh man, I gotta get an aspirin. Has it been bothering you? No, it's just me now. Why way in the back. Jim is it really bad? Yeah it'll do. Where are the slippers? Don't mind I'll get the aspirin. No I want to take a look at it anyway. It feels like a wisdom tooth. Why don't you put a few drops of that liquid camphor on it? Oh you got any? Could be some in the medicine cabinet. Ooh. All right wait a minute. Hey where is the wisdom in a wisdom tooth? Here just rub a little on the gum. Wait a minute wait a minute. I want to take a look at it. You feel swollen? It just hurts. Yeah I don't see any inflammation. Isn't tomorrow that luncheon with McGovern? I'll chew on the other side. Well by the way I told Lillian and George about your promotion. I was nice and catty about it. Your country cousin still think I'm a maniac? No sort of. But when I let it drop that you are now a $15,000 a year maniac Lillian dried up pretty fast. Ooh. Oh it still hurts doesn't it? Yeah a little. I'll call Williams and Mara. You were there for a checkup just last Christmas. Funny you didn't see anything. Probably came up since then. I suppose. I'd better take a couple of vassals and try to get some more sleep. How many do you want two? Yeah I've got a big day coming up. Big day. One of the biggest. Lunch with Mr. Henry McGovern of McGovern Tool and Die. And it went well. He renewed the agency contract for another year and doubled the budget for magazine space. Back at the office I showed him the art and copy for the fall campaign and he aided up. I dropped Mr. McGovern back at his hotel and took a cab over to the dentist's office. Dr. Williams had said any time after three. How long have you had this pain Mr. Davis? Oh just since last night it woke me up. I see. Do you have a family doctor? For Jimmy. Most of what Eleanor and I seem to catch we can knock out with cough syrup boy. Well I'd like to make an appointment for you with a Dr. Weldon. Do you know of him? Another dentist? He's an MD, Dr. George Weldon. I'd like to have him give you an examination just to cover all the bases. Why, you don't think it's the truth? Well it's possible of course but there's no sign of abscess or inflammation. Let's see what Weldon thinks, huh? I don't know why but I didn't mention the appointment with Dr. Weldon when I got home that night. Maybe I had a premonition. Oh I don't really think so but it must have been something. Anyway I told Eleanor that Williams had given me stuff to kill the pain, everything was fine. But it wasn't fine at all. Something inside my head was stirring and throbbing. It seemed to me spreading. But I didn't know what it was. Not last Monday night or even the next afternoon when Dr. Weldon examined me. I waited through Wednesday for the results of the test. Then Thursday afternoon sitting in his office the sun's sliding down through the blinds over his heavy mahogany desk. Dr. Weldon gave it to me. Mr. Davis, you know, suffering from a disease called leukemia. In your case it's moving fast. This... there's no mistake. I'm afraid not. Good Lord. I explained the action of the disease to you first without naming it because... I know. I... I guessed you. Coming up to something. Do you have a family? Wife and son they... I just got a promotion. Is it certain that I... In cases like this it's pretty certain, Mr. Davis, yes. I have to tell you the truth when it's someone with responsibilities in the home. You have to be frank. I know. How old are you? Are you older than I am? Forty-three. I'm only thirty-nine. You've still got your hair. I don't know what to do. Do you want me to tell your wife? Hold on. I... I don't know. No, no, I... I'll tell her. I... What do I tell her? What do I got? Six months? No. I'm afraid you haven't got anything like that. A closer to one month. Maybe even less. I told you it was moving fast. I can't do everything in a month. I... I thought it was just a toothache. There's something I hadn't noticed about myself. It's something about leukemia. You lose weight, you lose it in a hurry. And the pain starts to spread. You can get used to that, even fool people about the pain, but not the weight. All they have to do is look at you from one day to the next. And the next day was Friday. Jim, would you look over these sketches? Yeah, you bet. This is just rough, but I want to see how it hits you. Well, it's awful darn good. I understand old man McGovern liked the new campaign. He sure did. See, have you ever met him? Yeah, last year at the big climb bank in Chicago. But I don't think he'd know me. I think it's a good idea if you get to know him a little better. He's in town till next Wednesday. I'm going to set up a luncheon date. Me and the old man? Yeah, the three of us. He's always patting me on the back for your ideas. I think you ought to meet you, Will. But Jim, look, I'm strictly a backstage character in this campaign. Yeah, and maybe that's what's wrong with it. The day may come. Well, you may have to deal directly with McGovern and a lot of other clients. He's not the nightmare a lot of people make it out to be. Well, it looks like he's warned you down pretty good this week. Does it? Well, no offense, Jim, but I... No, I'm just asking. Can you really see a difference? Well, I think so. Well, so he's a little hard on the nerves, but you can deal with him. Yeah. Well, I hope the day when I have to is a long time off. Yeah, you and me will, but you never know. You can't describe it. It's in a class by itself. The knowledge that there's an exact point in time after which you won't be alive anymore. Even if you can't be sure of the day or the hour of little commonplace things, keep reminding you that it's getting nearer. Riding home on the train that afternoon, it suddenly occurred to me that I wouldn't be around to find out who won the World Series this year. And I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. As if I had a headache. No one on the train seemed to notice. I guess they had troubles of their own. When I got to the house, Eleanor was standing on the front porch waiting for me. She had on a pink starchy dress with a little white collar, and she was smiling. It was like seeing her for the first time. Boy, did you look like something. Oh, thank you, sir. How things go today? Oh, the usual. Friday's always a hassle, you know. Here, honey, let me take your phone. Yeah, thanks. Say, where's the crown prince? Oh, he's spending the night over at Stewie's. Oh, that's right. That's right. The big fishing expedition. Up and on the road by 5.30 tomorrow morning. I'd like a full-colored snapshot of that one. Yeah. Say, if Junie isn't going to be here tonight, how about us going out to dinner tonight? Wonderful, but I thought you wanted to watch the fights. Oh, I can watch the fights anytime. Come on, let's go out, huh? You sure you're not too tired, Jim? Why do I? Do I look tired? No, not especially, but I mean, the way your tooth's been acting up and the heavy schedule you had this morning. Oh, my tooth's fine. I'll sleep till noon tomorrow. Wear that little white hat with a veil, will ya? You like that number hat? Yeah. Boy, you look good. Jim? What? I love you. We had dinner in a place called the Grove. Back when Eleanor and I first started going out together, we used to eat there. It would be rare occasions when I could afford it. It's got a lot of memories for me. I first met Eleanor at the Grove on a double date, and it's where I proposed to her three years later. Before the war, everybody used to go over there, but tonight it was almost empty. It seemed like a place filled with ghosts. Want some more coffee? No, thanks. This is still hot. Well, did you get enough to eat? Oh, I'm stuffed. Oh, you and me. You know, I was just thinking. Remember the night we gave that going away party here for Bill Peterson when he joined the Air Force? Yeah, right over there. Well, what was he so mad about? I never heard so much shouting and table pounding in my life. He thought we should join up with him. Remember how we all had to show him our draft cards? Oh, yeah. I didn't understand how he felt until my number came up. Once you're hooked, you want everybody else to get in. Well, you unlisted. Yeah, to cheat the local board. Let's face it. You never did meet his wife, did you? No, I think I was overseas when he came through town again. See, she was real cute. And you wouldn't have known Bill. They dropped by the house and he bounced Jimmy on his knees. Well, he was just a different man. Sadie, do you know if she ever remarried? Well, I'm not sure, but I wouldn't think she'd have much trouble. Let's see, Bill was shot down in 43, wasn't it? 40? Yeah, yeah, 43, yeah. Well, Helen stayed with his family until just a few months before you got home, but she went back to Virginia. Oh, she must be married again by now. Well, I was thinking today, what made me think about it was a story of the paper of a man around my age. You had a heart attack. You know, no warning. But you can pick up the pieces, you know. How do you mean? Well, I mean his wife. She's still young, 35, got a whole lifetime ahead of her. She's got sense enough to do something about it. Yeah, I suppose so. I mean, he left her protected. I suppose it's a shock, but she ought to be able to pick up the pieces, like Bill's wife. Well, they don't even marry to you. How long had this other couple been married? Well, like us, about 15. That's a lot different. Well, maybe, but you just can't stop living. She's got her children to think about. Sooner or later, everybody's got to die. Let's face it, I tried to tell her that night at the Grove and then later in the long ride home. But I couldn't do it. At the time, I thought it was because I wanted to spare her the shock. But later that night, lying awake, I realized it wasn't Eleanor or Jimmy I was trying to protect. It was me. I didn't want to face it. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it wasn't there. It wasn't going to happen. Because you don't really believe you're ever going to die. Not even when someone proves it to you. So I got through Saturday. Oh, I mowed the lawn. I watched the ball game on television. That night when Jimmy came home happy and dead tired from the fishing trip, we measured the bass and the perch that he'd caught and put them in the freezer. The next thing I knew, I was lying awake again. Watching the moonlight sprinkle in through the window. Listening to Eleanor breathe evenly in her sleep. Wondering. Wondering what I should do. The next morning was Sunday. We went to church and after Mass was over, I walked Eleanor and Jimmy back to the car. Then something hit me. Listen, I want to stop into the directory and see Father Hughes for a minute. Now? Yeah, it's about the building fund. I told him I can buy. I was looking for a contractor. Why can't you call? It'll only take a few minutes, honey. Well, Jim, I've got a roast in the oven. I'll be right back. I just want to clear this up. I had gone to high school with Joe Hughes and I never cared for him. I thought he was fussy and self-righteous and most of his sermons bored me to death. But I had to talk to someone. Who knows about this? Outside of your doctor? Nobody. You haven't told Eleanor? I told you nobody. I'm going to die and I... I want to know what to do. You don't have much respect for me, do you, James? Oh, now look, Father James, I... Don't misunderstand. Well, it isn't anything I hold against you. I know I'm not a popular pastor in the accepted sense, but I want to help you. I want very much to help. I've seen other men die. I wanted to inspire them. I was a chaplain for a while during the war. I didn't know that. With the Navy, only a year. I was recalled. I didn't seem able to talk to the men when they needed it. Oh, I... I talked, but... they weren't interested. Where did you serve? In the Pacific. I was at Okinawa. A boy died while I was talking to him, a Marine. Did he hurt me? Sure he did. You just tell them the same things. That dying is the only door to eternal salvation. That life is just one phase. That God is waiting for us, and death is the road we must travel to reach him. Yeah, I know. You know, the hardest thing about this, even harder than leaving Eleanor and Jimmy for knowing I'll never see it snow again or so many things I'll never see again. Even harder is the fact that I can't get used to the idea that it's going to happen. That I... I'm really going to die. I just don't think it's possible. You know what I think it is, that feeling? No. Well, I have it. I think everyone I've ever met has it. It's always seemed to me to be an intimation of immortality. Or wishful thinking. No, no. I don't think so. Because it always seems most pronounced in the very young, or the very old. And they certainly don't have much in common as far as outlook goes, or in any wishful thinking they might do. They're poles apart. As you may have noticed, as groups, the very young and the very old are completely intolerant of one another. Well, how do you explain they're both having this... this feeling of immortality so much more strongly than the rest of us? Well, it's... it's just a theory. But I think it has something to do with their closeness to God. How do you mean? The very young, I so to speak, fresh from his hands. He's just created them. And the old ones are almost throughliving and on their way back to him. I think it may be that nearness to the Almighty they both have at opposite ends of the life cycle that gives them the common feeling. Yeah, then... Oh, why have I got it? I'm no kid, but I'm not an old man, either. No, but you're almost throughliving. Yeah, yeah. I am at that. I think you should tell Eleanor, James. Yeah, I suppose so. I could be wrong, but... as I see it, she is a right to know. No, you're not wrong, Father. You know, that Marine you said you talked to at Okinawa? Yes. I don't know whether he heard you or not, but... if he didn't, he really missed something. I didn't think I'd be able to do it. Tell Eleanor. We went home and had dinner, and that afternoon Jimmy went swimming, and I tried to do it then. I knew I couldn't stall much longer. Dr. Weldon had told me that in a week, two at the most, pain would get so bad I'd have to sweat the last of it out in the hospital. But about 15 minutes after Jimmy left the house, Stu Johnson and his wife dropped in. They were still there when he came home. We had nice supper, cold cuts and cheese, and Stu went out for some beer. They didn't leave until almost 10 o'clock. Then suddenly, Eleanor and I were alone for the first time that day. I'm unconscious. Want me to help you clean up? No, I'll do it in the morning. You just put on blinders when you walk through here for breakfast tomorrow. Okay. See, let's, uh... let's sit down for a minute, huh? I, uh... I want to tell you something. Is anything wrong, Jim? Yeah. Yes, something's wrong. It started a week ago. You know that night when I thought I had the toothache? We sat there on the couch as we had before, a thousand times. After the company had left her, Jim was fast asleep upstairs. On nights when we'd made plans for the future, where we'd spend our vacation that year, or what color of a new rug should be in the dining room, we sat there and I told her what was going to happen. I think she'd half guessed it two nights before, but that didn't make things any easier for either of us. I tried to be business-like about someone, telling her about the insurance and the tax forms and the whatnot, but then I tried to be philosophical. After all, it happened to everybody. It had to happen sometime. And then, almost in desperation, I told her what Father Hughes had said to me that afternoon and how much better it had made me feel. Eleanor hardly said anything. Once in a while, she'd nod or look at me, and I'd see her eyes were moist. She barely said a word. It was almost 1.30 when we went to bed. I lay there in the dark, waiting for her to hit her, waiting for the reaction to set in. I could tell she was awake because every so often she'd exhale heavily as if she'd been holding a breath for a long time, then finally, or it must have been two hours later, as I could see the edge of the sky over the heaves slowly getting gray. She twisted around in bed and took my hand, not as much as I was. Father Hughes is right, Janune. Nobody really dies. Does Dr. Weldon really think they can fix it up about the pain? Yeah, I won't feel a thing. I'll be good, Jim. I won't disappoint you. You never have. Jim, there isn't any time in eternity is there? No, that's what they tell me. Well, then we really won't have to wait much at all to see each other again. I guess that's right. Will it make you feel worse if I cry? I don't know. I don't think so. It's just like when you used to go fishing with Stu and the others and the wives weren't invited. Yeah, there wasn't any room in the boat. It just made me feel bad that I couldn't go along, so once in a while I cried about it. I didn't know that. Why wait till you were gone? Sometimes the night before, till you were asleep. Time is it? Almost four. You can still get a few hours rest if you try. I'll try. I've got a big day tomorrow. Close your eyes, Jim. They're closed. Sleep tight, darling. This is Ruth Hussie again. We all know from bitter experience that there's no such thing as a real bargain. There are no giveaway shows in life. We get only what we pay for. Now, this is especially true of family life. Life in some families is a rich, rewarding, happy experience. And life in other families is a cold, lonely, almost dismal existence. And what makes the difference is how much we're willing to pay for our family happiness. If we're stingy and do only just what we have to do and help out only when we must, love only as much as we should, well, maybe we have a quiet house, but we don't have a really happy home. Real happiness is like anything else that's really good. It's expensive. Real family happiness is much more expensive than we would normally imagine. It costs a great deal. Sometimes it costs us an extra nod of approval or an extra helping hand or even only an extra smile. These are the things that make a house really a home. A group of people, really a family. But these are the things that are really hard, really expensive. These are the things that can only come with family prayer. But when we pray together as a family, we invest in the real means of family happiness. We suddenly find that we have more room in our lives for one another because as a family, we've made room in our lives together for him. So when you pray, pray together as a family for the family that prays together, stays together. More things are brought by prayer than this world dreams of. But Family Theatre has brought you transcribed big days starring Stephen McNally. Ruth Hussey was your hostess. Others in our cast were Lillian Bayeth, Tudor Owen, Jack Krushen, John Stevenson, and Jack Carroll. The script was written and directed by John T. Kelly with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman. This series of Family Theatre broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who feel the need for this type of program. By the Mutual Network, which has responded to this need. And by the hundreds of stars of stage, screen, and radio who give so unselfishly their time and talent to appear on our Family Theatre stage. To them and to you, our humble thanks. This is Tony Lofrano expressing the wish of Family Theatre God may be upon you and your home. And inviting you to join us next week when Family Theatre will present the outing starring Jack Haley. Loretta Young will be your hostess. Join us, won't you? Family Theatre has broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network. This is Mutual, the radio network for all America.