An ordinary family, an ordinary evening

Great things often grow from surprisingly humble beginnings. Ordinary people in ordinary places are suddenly moved to do something they don’t realize is significant – at least, they don’t know it at the time. It feels a little too much like everyday life.

That’s the story of the Reverend Donald Wildmon and the beginning of American Family Association (AFA) – as told in AFA’s newest documentary, Culture Warrior: Don Wildmon and the Battle for Decency.

One frigid weeknight in December 1976, the pastor of the 500-member First United Methodist Church of Southaven, Mississippi, sat in his den unwinding from a hectic holiday season and enjoying his family.

Don and Lynda’s children – Tim (13), Angela (12), Donna (10), and Mark (5) – were out of school for the holidays, and a cold snap had everyone gathered around the fire after dinner. As Don relaxed in his recliner, his eighth-grader, Tim, asked if they could watch television. With Christmas just around the corner, Don assumed there would be a seasonal special or classic movie to spark the holiday spirit. However, the Wildmons quickly found themselves getting far more than they expected.

Tim switched on the large, wooden, console TV in the corner of the den. Instead of a Christmas program, the network was airing an adult melodrama. A man and woman were engaged in poignant dialogue that grew more seductive as the scene progressed. As their lips met, the sexual undertones became unmistakable. It was clear where the storyline was headed. Don asked Tim to change the channel.

However, switching channels did not bring relief. The second show depicted a character spouting intense profanity against another. Once again, Don had Tim change the channel. Surely, the only remaining network would have something worth watching.

As the family settled into enjoying what seemed to be a well-written and intriguing “whodunit,” suddenly, the scene changed. Without warning – and to Don’s horror – one character began using a hammer to beat the life out of his bound-and-gagged victim.

Don had enough.

“Just turn it off, Tim. Just turn it off,” Don instructed his oldest.

Don sat in silence as the kids dispersed. Donna, 10 years old at the time, sensed that her daddy was upset.

“He wasn’t mad at us or anything, but I could tell by his voice that something was bothering him,” she said. “And I knew by him just sitting in that chair afterward for a little while that something was wrong.” 

In the following days, Don reflected on shifts in TV, movies, and music. He thought about how TV had been a positive influence in his family. Educational programs like Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood had helped Mark, his youngest child, learn the alphabet and numbers. Important world events covered on the evening news had begun to capture Tim’s interest. He also remembered the culturally enriching coverage of the Montreal Olympics earlier that summer, where the gymnastics rounds had especially excited his girls, Angela and Donna. 

It wasn’t that Don was unaware before that evening of the erosion happening. He had noticed how movies had become more violent, profane, and sexually explicit in the late 1960s and early 1970s. He also recognized that pornography had become commonplace on newsstands and at convenience store counters. Although he was disgusted by those immoral trends, he chose to ignore them. After all, it didn’t seem to be his problem.

But something deep inside changed for Don that winter evening in 1976. Now, he was reconsidering his look-the-other-way approach. While such an attitude had spared his conscience from getting upset when he saw something objectionable, he was beginning to understand the far-reaching implications of the immorality being pumped into millions of homes through network entertainment.

“Look what happened while we looked the other way,” he later wrote in his book titled The Man the Networks Love to Hate. “Of course, all those years while I conveniently ‘looked the other way,’ I never dreamed my family would one day be affected by the very things I was ignoring.” 

What started as an ordinary evening for an ordinary family in an ordinary town eventually led to the creation of American Family Association.

In the spring of 1977, Don organized an awareness campaign in his local church. He called it “Turn the Television Off Week.” His efforts were reported on by news outlets, discussed in newspaper columns, and sparked debate and action around the country. Don soon stepped down from the pulpit and started a new grassroots organization – the National Federation for Decency (now AFA) – to advance the fight.

The rest, as they say, is history.