Farewell “All My Children”—for now.

In a variety of ways, I knew it was coming. I was prepared for it. Stuart Chandler, the “heart and soul” of Pine Valley, a town I’ve known for 37 of its 41 year existence, was thought to have been killed two years ago. When he died, the moral compass of Pine Valley was lost. But, he didn’t die. He’d been kept in captivity by a “mad” doctor with good intentions and a bad track record. I knew Stuart was coming back. I knew he was going to be reunited with his twin brother, Adam. I knew his son, Scott, would rush to his side and that his “widow,” Marion, would be freed from captivity in a mental ward upon learning that her beloved husband was alive.

I knew, similarly, that Erica Kane would get her movie deal. This was the woman who—forty-one years ago—complained that her hometown of Pine Valley was boring, certainly not as exciting as the “corner of Hollywood and Vine.” And, yet, there she stood on that very street corner, seeing her dream fulfilled. I like Erica—petulant Erica, selfish Erica, loving Erica, frightened and insecure Erica. I like her daughters, too. I knew what would happen with all of them.

The fact that longtime Pine Valley resident Tad Martin—a flawed, but loving cad-turned-family-man—would be reunited with the love of his life was not unknown to me. Nor were the ghostly appearances of deceased townspeople. I took delight in knowing that my favorite Pine Valley-ite, Janet Green, would break out of Oakhaven Mental Institution to share some tender moments with her daughter. I watched these things come to pass, knowing that they were coming, yet delighting in them nonetheless.

Some of the AMC Cast Circa 1988

I knew All My Children had been cancelled. I'd been keeping close watch of the progress of the final few months of broadcasts. I knew that this was its last week on network television. I was prepared. And, frankly, as irritated as I was by the fact that ABC Daytime and its parent company, Disney, had lied to its fans, its cast and crew, and cancelled a program that has been an historic mainstay of the world of television, I thought that my knowledge of the passing events was enough to prepare me or its ultimate, untimely end.

But, it wasn’t.

Here in the Dallas market, we view(ed) episodes of All My Children “a day behind,” meaning that we saw the shows on tape as opposed to the official ABC feed on the day of the broadcast. This inconvenience was instituted to accommodate the clumsy noon news broadcast of our local affiliate. So, we won’t actually get to see our last glimpse of Pine Valley as we knew it until Monday. But, I’ve been watching the episodes on the proper day on my iPad.

You’d think that advanced knowledge would have armed me for this sad reality. And, yet, last night, as I watched Stuart reunite with Adam (splendidly played by David Canary), I began to sob for the first time. Yes, it was sweet and tender. But, for the first time, it occurred to me that it was true. All My Children was coming to an end. The door to Pine Valley was closing.

Anyone who regularly reads Stalking the Belle Époque knows that I am a believer in serialized drama. Life, after all, is serialized drama. Our existence is not summed up as neatly as books, movies and television shows would have us think. Life goes on, people change, circumstances alter—day after day. That’s why the medium works. It’s true to life. And while the events of Pine Valley were often surreal and spectacular, they continued and grew and developed day after day, just like life. Look at Punch’s Cousin—it’s certainly not the most realistic depiction of life, yet it continues and the people change and develop. Readers and viewers are drawn to serials because they mimic life, but also because the characters become a part of the fabric of our own existences.

Daytime drama and soap opera has been going strong for many, many decades. These shows have transitioned from radio to television and have their roots in the very beginnings of storytelling. And because of their nature, the characters become friends and family.

I was born in 1973. Since then, All My Children has been part of my life. My mother has watched the show since the very first episode in January of 1970. We watched the show together. I remember watching it with her as a child and telling my father about Cliff and Nina and Palmer Cortlandt when he came home from work. I watched it in college. I watched it as an adult in my own home.

Natalie and Janet
as played by Kate Collins, 1991

When life was bad, Pine Valley was there. When life was good, it was there, too. I could escape to it, relate to it, learn from it. Erica Kane was as much a part of my life as the people that I saw every day. In some ways, Erica was more reliable. I knew what to expect from Erica. Real people are variable and confusing. No matter what, I knew that I could escape to Pine Valley—rant with Kendall, relate to Bianca, laugh with Janet, struggle with Erica, admire Joe Martin, hiss at David Hayward, be annoyed by Greenlee and become engrossed in the creation of the genius that is Agnes Nixon.

And, now, it’s gone. And, in many ways, it is, truly, like losing a friend, like the death of a family member. It’s strange. And even though I was prepared for it, I wasn’t really prepared for it. So, today, it hit me. It’s over.

Or is it? In January, the executives at Prospect Park hope to relaunch All My Children online or possibly on cable. Two cast members (Cameron Mathison and Linsday Hartley) have already been signed to continue and others have been approached and are in negotiations. Will it work? I don’t know. Even if it does, it will be different. Different always isn’t bad, of course. But, the reality is, Pine Valley as we know it is gone.

Looking back, the town of Pine Valley has been in trouble for awhile. As a writer, I probably shouldn’t say this since I don’t really wish to make an enemy of Disney, but for the past few years, ABC Daytime has been terribly mismanaged and All My Children has been the dumping ground for dozens of bad ideas and even worse, half a dozen truly, shockingly awful writers. All concerned with the show have been treated shabbily. That’s really not the way these veteran actors, writers and producers deserved to be treated nor is it, certainly, the way to treat a piece of American cultural history. But, that just gets us back to all of my issues with our current cultural climate. So, I won’t get into all of that at present.

I understand that the decision to cancel was “economic.” But, it could have been avoided. And, so, any respect I had for Disney or ABC is gone along with my friends in Pine Valley. I have hope that All My Children will be resurrected one way or another, but my loyalty to the people who nailed shut the coffin will never rise again. After all, ABC has shown their compassion to the grieving fans by offering them an official, limited edition cast photo from the last episode—for twenty-five dollars. Go to Hell, Mickey.

So, farewell to All My Children—for now. And, thank you for a lifetime of adventure, fun and education. It’s a legacy that I will do my part to uphold.



Here are some more posts about All My Children.