
This is not their daughter — just a creepy doll.
Ralph and Jane Birdwell seem like a nice suburban couple. He is a civil engineer and she is a civil mother. Their daughter Eileen has just been sent off to school. Ralph is getting ready for work when the doorbell rings. Jane opens the door and a woman slurs, “Remember me? Is the little girl home?” I guess she doesn’t get the concept of going to school in the morning. But to be fair, I think this is the first time this booze-monkey has been up before noon.
Ralph sees her and says, “You said you’d never bother us again. What’s the big idea?” Seven years ago, Mrs. Meade had given Eileen to the Birdwells for a few bucks and a pair of Beach Britches. They could never track her down to formalize the adoption. Although, if they didn’t post her picture on the back of a scotch bottle, how hard were they trying? Now she wants the girl back. But she’d be willing to accept $100/week payoff instead. When Mrs. Meade threatens to sue, Ralph says the judge will see she is “a cheap, broken down drunk.”
Mrs. Meade does go to a lawyer — hey, it’s Mayberry’s Floyd the Barber. [1] He tells her that her plan amounts to nothing more than blackmail. Mrs. Meade later gets a visit from Phil Ames. The solicitous unsolicited solicitor is a former lawyer who also had bar trouble, but not the the same kind as Mrs. Meade. He is now a private investigator who heard of her case down where the lawyers hang out.
He informs her that the Birdwells never legally adopted Eileen. However, he also states he knows that Mrs. Meade never showed any interest in the child until now and that she has a criminal record. He says they should go for the big payday and demand $25,000 from the Birdwells ($215,000 in 2020 bucks).
Ames proposes that Mrs. Meade kidnap Eileen. He says it will not be a crime since she is “only repossessing her own property.” This was before OJ tried to steal back his Heisman Trophy so case law was sketchy at the time. [2]
Ames and Mrs. Meade agree that his cut will be 20%. Now keep in mind that this low-life disbarred shyster who elbowed his way into this case, conspired with a drunken sociopath, is willing to break up a happy family, and will callously tear a little girl away from the only parents she has ever known — even this scumbag isn’t charging the 30% to 40% cut that attorneys routinely milk out of clients.
Mrs. Meade meets Ames drunk and early a week later. He has been watching the Birdwell home for 3 days and has cracked the algorithm that Eileen goes to school in the morning and returns in the afternoon. Since Mrs. Meade has not seen her daughter in 7 years, they drive by the school and Ames is able to point her out at recess.
That afternoon, Mrs. Meade intercepts Eileen leaving school. She says she is the new governess and that her mom wants them to go shopping for new dresses. Instead they go to Mrs. Meade’s apartment.
Ames comes by with his partner Charlie Banks. Banks asks Mrs. Meade if this is the little girl she snatched. She says, “Sure I did. Why not? I’m her mother.” Except the girl says her name is Margaret. Ames brought Banks, who has connections at the FBI, to be a witness. Mrs. Mead just confessed to kidnapping a girl she is not related to.
Ames forcefully tells Mrs. Meade that he is actually a friend of Ralph. She is to stay away from the Birdwells, and allow them to legally adopt Eileen! Mrs. Meade breaks down in tears with the same saline to alcohol ratio as a dirty martini.
Viewers in 1961 might have thought this was like Summer Shade last week — there is a happy ending, but an innocent young girl was hijacked in order to achieve it. Well, no — in the hallway, Margaret smiles as she climbs into Ames’ arms. We learn that Margaret is his daughter and she had a ball helping her dad with this ruse; way more fun than when they infiltrated Epstein Island. [3]
It was nice to see Mrs. Meade shut down by Phil Ames for multiple reasons. Foremost, of course, she deserved it — using a little girl to blackmail a family. Second, Biff Elliot was phenomenal in the role — he single-handedly redeemed the name Biff in the American arts. Third, Biff played a father in The Day of the Bullet who profoundly disappointed his adoring son. It was heart-warming to see him so loved by his daughter here. Even after he let a drunk psycho put her in a taxi and go back to her apartment.
This was kind of a “soft” episode like director Ida Lupino’s previous AHP gig, Sybilla. There are no murders and a woman was at the center. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. The story was thin, but the twist was sharp. If you can stand Claire Trevor as Mrs. Meade, I rate it 70 proof.
Other Stuff:
- [1] IMDb inexplicably states that Howard McNear is in the credits, but does not appear in the episode. In fact, he has a prominent scene with Mrs. Meade. How can you miss him? C’mon, he’s Floyd the M*****f***ing Barber (as Gomer called him after he finished his hitch in the Marines).
- [2] A fact-check indicates that OJ Simpson was convicted of stealing miscellaneous sports memorabilia, but not his Heisman Trophy. Wow, could I be wrong about his previous legal issue too?
- [3] I sincerely apologize for that disgusting reference.
- AHP Proximity Alert: Robert Sampson (Ralph) was just in The Changing Heart two weeks ago. Hey, give somebody else a chance!
- AHP Deathwatch: Robert Sampson is also the only adult cast member still alive and even has a 2020 credit on IMDb. Hey, give somebody else a chance!
- As always, Jack at bare*bones e-zine is all over the source and production of the episode.
- I don’t like categorizing people, but it is pretty cool that this was directed by a woman in 1961. Ida Lupino directed dozens of other shows, including 9 Thrillers, a Twilight Zone, and 3 memorable Gilligan’s Islands. Although, I guess if you saw them each 10 times as a kid, they’re all memorable. Mary Anne was cute even playing Laertes; I heard as Caliban, she brought the hut down.
Anyhoo, Marriott is scheduled to be hanged in London that afternoon. I’d like to think his trial was that morning. From his cell, he can see the gallows being prepared for the big event. No, wait, I hope his trial was yesterday so the hammering kept him up all night. Marriott is nervous and jumpy about the hanging which is in about half an hour. In a very obnoxious few minutes, he describes his life and crime. He ends up crying and screaming, “I don’t want to die!”
Marriott wakes up in the infirmary instead of Hell. The warden, my kind of guy, is ready to try again right away. Marriott says, “You’re wasting your time, guvnuh.” He confidently tells the men they can’t kill him no matter what they do. Inexplicably they let him eat breakfast before the next try. At least they don’t waste any more brandy.
As always, this is a fantastic-looking show. The shot of the gallows through Marriott’s window is magnificent. [3] My other frequent comment about the weakness of OSB stories doesn’t really apply here. This feels more like an urban legend. It is served up with the requisite three incidents to establish it, and even throws in little twist.

For the big finish, Lynch puts a satchel from Evans’ closet on the table. He opens it to reveal a misshapen head in a large glass jar. OK, hold the phone — this is a direct steal from Ray Bradbury’s The Jar which was adapted for
By coincidence I saw Eddie Izzard (Evans) in 
His further attempt at an alibi is foiled when “Lucy tries to get into Ricky’s act and hijinks ensue” is deemed to describe 400 episodes of I Love Lucy.
Another pedestrian outing. It boggles my mind that this primitive series aired only 3 years before The Twilight Zone and One Step Beyond. Just think how great TV will be 3 years from now! You know, if some assholes don’t burn down the studios.
Ben & Phyllis Kendall are starting to get discouraged in their quest to find an affordable one hundred year old house in Salem with three bedrooms, a modern kitchen, a study, central heating, and a tree for young Kate’s swing.
During a house-call, Kate’s doctor recognizes the name Bridget Bishop. Ben finds her name and picture in a book about Salem. She was hung in 1692 for witchcraft. A local preacher shows Phyllis the grave of Lauretta Bishop who died of the pox in 1694.
Well, I’m glad Kate has a little friend, but what happened to the real Judy? Did her soul disappear? Is she stuck silently in that body? Is she doomed to helplessly watch Lettie’s life the way the poor sap in