[Eerie music]
(Male narrator) There is a fifth dimension
beyond tha t which is known to man.
It is a dimension as vastas space
and as timeless as infinity.
It is the middle ground between lightand shadow,
between science and s upers ti tion.
And it lies between the pit of man's fears
and the summit of his knowledge.
This is the dimension of ima Gina tion.
It is an area which we call the twilightzone.
You're looking a tact one, scene one of a nightmare,
one not restricted to witching hours
and dark, ra in-swep t nights.
Professor wal ter Jameson, popular beyond words,
who talks of the past as if it were the present,
who conjures up the dead as if they were alive.
The union soldiers burned Atlanta,
but I assure you, they took no pleasure in their work.
They were forced to it
by a man they hated more than they could ever hate the rebels.
An ugly, sullen,
unbelievably brutal man
named William tecumseh sherman.
To give you a more comprehensive idea of this grea thero,
let me read you a few extracts from the diary of major skelton.
The date is Tuesday, September 11, 1864.
"The city was ours.
"There was no need to destroy aught,
"save that which could be of use in the fight against us.
"But sherman was drunk with victory.
"He himself started the awful fires.
"The fires that destroyed that great citadel of grace and beauty."
(Narrator) In the view of this ma n, professor Samuel kittridge,
wal ter Jameson has access to knowledge
tha t couldn't come out of a volume of his Tory,
but ra ther from a book on black magic.
Which is to sa y tha t this nightmare begins a t noon.
Very vivid, Walter. You had me on the edge of my seat.
Thank you, Sam.
I begin to see why these lectures of yours are so popular.
Is that why you sat in?
Well, partially. Tell me something. Who is this major skelton?
Oh, just a lawyer wrapped into a mist.
Uh, what regiment?
Hundred and twenty third infantry.
I must say, the story of his is a fascinating document.
May I see it?
I, uh, I don't suppose I could borrow it.
I never lend books to absent-minded professors.
Remember the last time?
Yes. You're right.
Anything wrong, Sam?
No. Could you come for dinner tonight?
Whose invitation? Yours or Susanna's?
Mine this time. Say, 7:00?
All right.
Good.
[Crickets chirping]
Really, darling, must you always be on time?
Always.
Please. Remember, you're a Ph.D.
Not yet, I'm not. There's a little matter ofan exam/na tion. Remember?
A technical/ty. Anywa y, you're gonna bea housewife.
The devil she is.
I'm giving you my daughter's hand, not her brain.
She's gonna get that Ph.D...
If I have to spank her. I know.
Don't tell me you're the cook again tonight.
Indeed, and why not?
Well, I think it's time that I tried Susanna's cooking.
Don't worry, you will.
I'm sure. Well, shall we sit down?
My lady.
I take it back, Sam. She'll never be the cook you are.
[Chuckles]
Wha t do you think you're doing, young lady?
I'll do the dishes later.
It's not the dishes I'm talking about.
It's books and study. Upstairs.
Besides, Walter and I have something to discuss.
You're not going to trea t me this way, are you?
Worse. Who knows? You may have to support us.
You oughta be ashamed of yourself, Sam.
Susanna's almost 30 years old.
And I'm almost 70.
Mm-hm.
My move, isn't it?
Yes.
What's that for?
Look at them. Extraordinary, isn't it?
They look very much alike.
Twelve years ago, those two hands.
Time marches on.
For some of us. Walter, tell me something, will you?
Of course.
How old are you?
Forty—four.
I seem to recall that when you applied for a post on the university staff,
you listed your age as 39.
That was, let me see, 1947,
which would make you 51.
Come on, Sam.
All right, I'm 51.
Too old for Susanna? Is that it?
In a sense.
Walter, in 1947, I was 58.
I had most of my hair, all my teeth and hardly a wrinkle.
Look at me now.
In 12 short years, I've turned into an old man,
while you haven't aged at all.
It happens that way sometime.
I knoi/I/, but why?
Don't ask me, Sam. You're the chemist. I teach history.
Yes, and you teach it very well.
You know what the students say?
They say it's almost as though you'd lived through the period you were discussing.
I try to make it interesting.
Fake it, you mean?
You could call it that.
Yes, that's what I thought.
But somehow, that didn't seem like you.
You're such a precise sort.
What have you got there?
A book of photographs taken by a fellow named Mathew Brady
during the time of the civil war.
Well, what? t is it?
You look as though you've seen a ghost.
Maybe I have.
Walter was-was your grandfather in the civil war, by any chance?
Then I'd say we have something of a mystery here.
How so?
You made me curious about this major skelton today.
I thought it would be interesting to see what he looked like,
so I went through my Brady pictures, not really expecting to find anything.
These are three of sherman's staff officers.
The one seated at the table is identified as major Hugh skelton.
Thatpicture was taken almost 100 years ago.
You shouldn't have kept that ring, you know. It's a dead giveaway.
What are you getting at, Sam?
Oh, come, Walter. You know exactly what I'm getting at.
Oh, you're joking. Just because I happen to look like somebody in a photograph.
And happen to be wearing the same ring
and happen to have the same mole on the left side of your face.
Walter, you and I have been very close for 12 years.
Tell me the truth. You...
You are that man in... in the photograph, aren't you?
Yes.
[Sighs]
I've suspected a long time.
But it seemed fantastic.
Mm, it is.
Yes.
How old are you, Walter?
You wouldn't believe me.
I can believe anything now.
All right. Let's say that I'm old enough to have known this gentleman personally.
Pla to?
But that was over 2,000 years ago!
I knew you wouldn't believe me.
No, no, it's... it isn't that, it's...
Two thousand years.
How, Walter? How?
In heaven's name, this is what mankind has been dreaming of.
Sam.
Tell me the secret.
I can't tell you the secret, Sam,
because I don't know it myself.
I was like you, Sam.
Afraid of death. And when I thought of all the things there were to know
in the miserable few years that a man had to know them,
it seemed senseless. At night, every night
I dreamed, as you dream, of immortality.
Only if a man lived forever, I thought,
could there be any point in living at all?
I talked to priests, philosophers.
Then one day I met an alchemist.
Told him these things. He said that he could Grant my wish.
Only, of course, it would cost a great deal of money.
I was desperate, I paid him his money and submitted to his experiments.
I remember very little about it.
I lay in a coma for many weeks,
and when I revived, I was alone.
The alchemist had disappeared.
Go on.
There's really very little more to tell.
I thought, of course, that the experiment had failed
because I didn't feel any differently.
But then
I saw my wife and my children aging.
My friends d ying.
This was something that I hadn't considered, you see?
But surely there... there's some answer to that problem.
Is there? Think about it.
I tell you that somehow I can stop you from aging.
Where do you want to stop, at 30?
Then you watch everyone around you grow old.
At 70?
Do you want to live forever the way you are now?
Old, sick?
It's better than dying.
No, you're wrong, Sam.
I was wrong.
It's... death
that gives this world its point.
We love a Rose because we know it'll soon be gone. Who ever loved a stone?
I'm not a Rose. I'm not a stone. I'm a man!
Very old and very frightened.
Of what, death?
Yes, of death.
You're a fool, Sam. I want to die.
Then why don't you?
Because I'm a coward.
You?
I haven't changed. I'm the same man I was.
I was a coward then, I'm a coward now.
I'm tired of living.
In my desk I have a revolver, Sam.
And every night I take it out and pray for the courage to pull the trigger. I can't.
You mean to say that you've survived over 2,000 years
without an accident, without being wounded?
Some people are lucky that way.
They go through life without ever breaking a bone
or seeing the inside of a hospital.
Oh, I've been close to death, many times,
but never close enough.
Thank you.
For what? t?
I thought if a man lived forever, he'd grow wiser.
But that isn't true, is it?
You just go on living. That's all.
It must be lonely.
I suppose you've been married several times.
Yes.
How long with each woman, Walter?
Ten years? Fifteen years?
I see.
Sam, I tried to resign six months ago. You talked me out of it. Do you remember that?
Yes.
I knew Susanna was falling in love with me,
and I knew what would happen. It's happened before.
A few years of happiness and then...
I tried to warn her. I did everything in my power to discourage her.
Except tell her the truth.
How could I do that? She'd have thought I was mad.
Then why didn't you leave?
Because by then it was too late.
I was in love with her.
I need her.
Everything is against it. All my reason and experience.
But tha t doesn't ma tter noi/I/. It doesn't ma tter.
It does to me, Walter. I can't let you marry my daughter.
(Susanna) A nd wh y no t?
Well, come on.
Your fa ther seems to think I'm too old for you, darling.
That's the silliest thing I ever heard of.
Good.
Then you'll marry me tonight.
I think you mean it.
I do. You go upstairs, pack your prettiest things.
I'll pick you up in 15 minutes.
But...
I'll tell her.
She won't believe you.
Nobody would.
You won't believe it yourself by tomorrow morning.
( Woman ) Hel I o, tomm y.
Who are you?
Don't you recognize me, Tommy?
Look hard. Look into my eyes.
You called them the most beautiful you'd ever seen once, a long time ago.
I'm afraid you're making a mistake.
No, Tommy.
My name is Jameson.
Professor Walter jam eson.
Don't pretend.
I know who you are.
And who am I?
You're Tom Bowen, my husband.
Your husband?
My dear woman, perhaps if you'll tell me who you're looking for.
Oh, stop it. I saw the picture in the newspaper
announcing your engagement.
I had to come to see if it was true.
It is.
I can't explain it. I only know it's happened.
I've grown old, and you haven't.
Now you're going to marry someone else
and leave her, the way you left me.
Oh, laurette. Laurette.
I can't let you marry her, Tommy. You're mine.
[Yells]
Laurette.
Tommy, it's wrong.
You can't go on hurting people.
[Gunshot]
What is it? What's happened?
Walter?
Hello, Sam.
I thought I heard...
Are you all right?
[Weakly] I don't know.
It doesn't matter.
Either way, you're... You'll be rid of me.
What do you mean?
[Grunts]
I mean...
I've come to my senses... at last.
Tell Susanna that...
Oh, no, stay away.
You're hurt.
I'll call a doctor.
Your hand.
It's happening.
At last.
Wal ter, what? t is it?
What's happening?
Oh, my god.
[Weak voice] Nothing lasts forever, thank god.
[Groans]
[Quick, shallow breathing]
[Pained wheezing]
Dad! Walter!
Go home, susa nna.
Tha t sound was a shot! Wal ter's hurt!
Please, Susanna, go home!
[Tussling]
Walter?
He's-he's gone.
Where?
I don't know, my dear, I...
His clothes?
Dad?
What is that on the floor?
Dust.
Only dust.
(Narrator) La s t s top on a long journey,
as yetanother human being returns to the vast no thingness
tha t is the beginning
and into the dust tha t is al wa ys the end.
(Male presenter) Rod serl ing, the orea Tor of twilight zone
will tell you about next week's storyafter this word from our al terna te sponsor.
And noi/I/, Mr. Serl/ng.
Next week, an excursion to Mars
with roddy mcdowall and Paul comi.
Two men trying to prove a point.
A simple proposition that men are alike all over.
And on Mars they discover that this is just whistling in the dark.
People are not alike. And next week on the twilight zoneyou'll see why.
I hope you'll be with us. Thank you and good night.
[Eerie music]
(Male presenter) Be sure to see the fun-filled famil y life
of one of america's grea test entertainers, the Danny Thomas show.
Monda y nights over most of these sta tions.
The twilight zone is brought to you tonight
by the newest coffee sensa tion on the modern scene.
New aroma -roast sanka coffee.