michaelhugg2591
I was 12 years old when my father said to me "Sergeant York died today." We were from Tennessee but living in New Jersey at the time, and I didn't know who Sergeant York was. My father explained that in World War I, Alvin York, a Tennessee farm boy, had outflanked a German machine gun nest, killed several Germans, and accepted the surrender of 132 others. Six years later, when I was a senior in high school, I caught the movie "Sergeant York" on TV, with Gary Cooper, Walter Brennan, and Joan Leslie.I make a point of spending the night in Historic Rugby, about 27 miles away, once a year, and had meant for years to drive to Pall Mall and see this attraction, but never made a point of doing so until this weekend. I'm certainly glad I did. It's well worth a visit and is within easy driving distance of Nashville, Cookeville, Knoxville, and points in Kentucky. It's a part of American history that should not be missed.Drive up highway 127, a nicely maintained 2-lane road, into Pall Mall, ironically named after the fashionable Pall Mall district of London by John Marshall Clemens (father of Mark Twain), who once lived nearby. On your left, you'll see a store/visitors' center with a large sign proclaiming that the tour starts at that point. On the south side of the store are the entrance to restrooms, a map of the historic site, and a sign proclaiming "Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved." In the front of the store, there is a display of the Ten Commandments. I doubt that Richard Dawkins is planning a visit any time soon.In the store, which was built on the site of York's own general store, a cheerful teenage girl in a tie-dyed T-shirt will look up from her cell phone, welcome you, and escort you into a side room, where you can watch a video narrated by, of all people, that grand old man of American newscasting, "America's uncle," the late Walter Cronkite. Briefly but eloquently, Cronkite narrates the story of York's life, his World War I adventure, and the life of service and dedication he pursued after returning to the United States. Refusing numerous endorsement deals, even though he was newly married and in debt, York devoted himself for the next 45 years to the causes he believed in, including vocational education for area teens, entering World War II to oppose Hitler, and promoting his deeply felt Christian faith. The room where the video is shown is also decorated with York memorabilia, including the front page of a newspaper relating how he tried to reenlist during World War II, though already in his 50s and suffering from diabetes; instead, the government asked him to stay here and help the war effort by speaking at bond drives and other means. The store itself is a convenient place to buy gifts and souvenirs as well as getting a cold soft drink or even a bite to eat. Leaving the store, you can cross the highway to the York farm. This site was eventually purchased and presented to the Yorks as a gift by a grateful nation, and a spacious, two-storey house was built on the site in 1922; it was here that York raised his ten children, fed dozens of hungry neighbors--his dining room table apparently had 16 seatings a day for meals--presided over a family establishment that included his wife's unmarried sister, and corresponded with influential figures far and wide, in pursuit of his ideals of enlightened government, peace with security, and the spread of the Christian faith.What looks like a rather modern tank sits on the grounds as you enter; it is a portable anti-aircraft battery that was introduced and failed in 1983, but the house displays a letter to York from President Reagan, noting the planned introduction of the new weapon and thanking York for his heroic service. Also on the grounds is a replica of the Statue of Liberty, perhaps 6 feet high.The side yard of the house is tree-shaded and has a bench for visitors. Entering the house, you are greeted by Caitlyn, a park ranger, who speaks with the sort of singsong lilt of the local people and treats you as though your visit was expected and hoped for, as well as a woman who is a widow of one of York's sons, who was a policeman killed in the line of duty some 40 years ago. Until recently, another of York's sons, Andrew Jackson York, was also a ranger, and often regaled visitors with stories of his father, though he wasn't there when I visited.The house is full of interesting artifacts, from York's World War I uniform and weapons to hats worn by his wife, Gracie, to a machine York used to cut his own vinyl LP records, recording spoken messages for his friends, to a calendar from York's General Store, with a picture of Jesus pronouncing healing on the servant of the Roman centurion. Rather ironically, there is a picture of Charles Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis--ironic since York, in 1939-1940, vigorously opposed Lindbergh's isolationism and "America First" stance, urging war preparedness and early entry into World War II, instead.I'll offer one proviso: the exhibit is an exhibit of York's *whole life--not just his wartime exploits.* If you are a military history buff and visit the place expecting a large display of World War I-related matters, it may not be exactly what you expected. In fact, it occurred to me that the display of World War I-related materials at the Woodrow Wilson Historic Birthplace and Presidential Library in Staunton, VA, may be more extensive than what is found here. I don't mean any of this as a criticism; just offering a factual point.The house also contains a separate video about York's life.Leaving the house, you can pick up a hiking trail perhaps a couple of miles in length, that takes you along the nearby Wolf River. The trail is nicely maintained, but if you walk it during warm weather, you will be well advised to spray yourself with insect repellent before you go. A swinging bridge over the river is perfectly safe, but the entrance and exit ramps are rather steep--not really handicapped-accessible.Leaving the bridge, you are faced with a rather steep flight of stairs that takes you up to a country road. Standing on this road, you see a church to your left, which is the same church where York made a profession of faith 100 years ago; across the street is a cemetery where York and members of his family are buried. You may think, at first, that a prominent fenced-off burial site in the center of the cemetery is the York burial site, but you need to keep going, forward and then to the left, until you spot the York site, displaying an American flag. Early pioneers of this area, people who preceded York, are also buried here.Walk or drive a further half-mile up the road, and you'll see a sign on the left: "York Bible School." Follow the path up the road a couple of hundred feet, and you'll come to an abandoned building from the 1940s, constructed of wood faced with field stone. I was reminded of the verse from the Bible, "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven." The building, which breathes a sort of sad grandeur, contains several rooms that must have been classrooms, as well as a sanctuary for chapel services. Making your way back to Highway 27, you can also see the York Grist Mill, which diverted part of the water from the nearby river into a mill pond, using water to power a turbine-and-screw system that used the most advanced technology of that day to grind corn meal to a particular fineness and made "York's Special Bolted Corn Meal" famous throughout the region ("bolting" was a technique for refining the meal). The mill sits on spacious grounds that include picnic tables and charcoal grills for cookouts, as well as space that can be rented for weddings; one was being set up when I visited. This is a great place for anyone to visit. I was never a veteran, and I certainly don't share York's religious beliefs, but I honored the spirit of a true American hero--a man who, while mixing with the powerful and famous, never let that make him forget his duty to his friends and neighbors on the Cumberland Plateau of Tennessee. Go by yourself, with a veteran who will appreciate York's wartime heroism, or with your children or grandchildren to show them a glimpse of America of a vanished age.