By Keith Bassham
When I visit my kids in the Washington, D. C. area, I generally go into amateur historian mode. In that mindset, I am liable to head down any road marked with some sort of indicator of historical significance. It makes for inefficient traveling, but I learned long ago not to exalt “making good time” to the top of the priority list. That leaning led me this past summer to the home of Woodrow Wilson in Staunton, Virginia, and then later to the birthplace and home of Alvin York.
Alvin Cullum York was born in Pall Mall, Tennessee, northeast of Nashville and not far from the Kentucky border. His family was dirt poor, and York grew up hard and fast. He was given to violence and alcohol in quantity, but that changed when he and lifelong friend Rosier Pile were converted to Christ. The two were in their late 20s. Pile went on to become the pastor of the church where they were converted, and York became a Sunday school teacher and song leader.
York was an excellent marksman, helping to feed his family with a muzzle-loader rifle, with more in common with a Daniel Boone or a Jed Clampett than a war hero. But he was humble, self-reliant, God-fearing, and somewhat typical of the thousands of others who were reluctant to fight unless sufficiently provoked.
When war broke out in 1917, York received a draft notice, and he sought conscientious objector (CO) status. His pacifist belief was sincere, but because his church, the Church of Christ of Christian Union, was not a recognized church or sect with pacifist beliefs, the status was denied. So at the age of 30, York, with great reservations, reported to Camp Gorgon, Georgia, to receive his basic training.
At camp, his superiors thought it strange that such an excellent marksman should not want to fight. According to York’s diary, he did receive documents regarding his CO status while at camp, but he did not sign them. Other accounts indicate that he was convinced of the moral rightness of the war by his commander, G. Edward Buxton. Whatever happened in camp, York shipped out to the Argonne in Europe with the 82nd Division (the All American division).
In October 1918, York proved himself a hero on the battlefield, and by wars end, he possessed the highest military honors not only from his native country, but European ones as well.
But if all you know of York is what you learned in the movie bearing his name, you miss a good deal. York refused to capitalize on his celebrity status. Instead, he returned to his rural home with a burden to educate the youth of his impoverished area. He began a Bible school and an agricultural school, and lobbied politicians on behalf of literacy and education.
While visiting the York home I learned of a present-day effort to restore and reopen the long abandoned Bible school. Speaking of which, the home and mill York operated are still standing and worth a stop. There is a small Bible study library owned by York, some WWI memorabilia, and mounds of information about his later life. You can visit the cemetery near the place where Alvin York found Christ and see the memorial built to honor him, the gravesites of his friend and pastor, Rosier Pile, and other members of the York family. Some parts of the area are little changed from York’s early years, and the roads I traveled that day in late June provided a memory I will think on this Veteran’s Day.
Alvin York’s blend of faith, patriotism, courage, humility, giving, and activism gives such a contrast with the characters held out as heroes and memorialized by the culture-makers today.