The battle of the Meuse-Argonne made him famous. The years that followed tested him just as deeply. If you missed my earlier post on York’s actions during World War I, you can read it here: Alvin York and the Meuse-Argonne Offensive.
While I am confident in the broad outline of Alvin York’s life after World War I, the details in various sources sometimes contradict one another. Even so, the story that emerges is, in my view, equally inspiring and worthy of being told.
Marriage, a Farm, and Mounting Debt
Not long after York returned to Tennessee, he married Gracie Williams. The governor of the state performed the ceremony, and several Rotary Clubs in Tennessee organized fundraising to purchase him a 400-acre farm. It was a generous gift, but it did not include livestock or equipment, which Alvin had to borrow money to buy.
Then the postwar agricultural downturn deepened. While we tend to think of the Great Depression as beginning with the stock market crash in 1929, farmers were struggling long before that. The Tennessee Rotary fundraising effort soon encountered difficulties, leaving Alvin with more debt than he had expected. This was a particular hardship for him. Though he could endure many trials, he found the burden of owing money especially difficult. When the story appeared in the New York Times, Rotary Clubs from outside Tennessee stepped in to help resolve the situation.
A School for the Mountains
Alvin York deeply felt his lack of education. He estimated that he had only a few months of schooling and had likely reached only the third-grade level. He discussed this at length in his memoir, published in 1928. He did not write to evoke pity. Rather, he wanted readers to understand how difficult it had been to attend school in the mountains of Tennessee.
This was one of the few times he agreed to accept financial gain connected to his wartime fame. He had turned down numerous commercial opportunities, but this time he agreed because the money would help fund a school in his Appalachian Mountains — the Alvin C. York Agricultural Institute. He wanted readers to understand the barriers he and other mountain children faced.
There might not be a road to the school. Getting there might mean crossing creeks. There were no libraries. And he meant to change that. As he put it:
“If it is necessary I’m going to build good roads and bridges and provide transportation so that the children can get to these schools too. If they can’t afford it nohow, I’m a-going to give them a chance to work their way through.”
And he did it. The Institute opened in 1929 as a private high school. It continued operating privately until 1937, when the state of Tennessee assumed control. It remains open today. A glance through its course listings shows many offerings one would expect from a modern high school, including dual-credit opportunities for college credit. It also includes things I did not expect, such as hands-on management of cattle on the 125-acre farm overseen by the agriculture instructor.
The Film Sergeant York and a Second World War
Most people who know of Alvin York likely know him through the movie Sergeant York. Much of the money he received from the film went toward supporting the school.
He agreed to the movie in 1940, as war once again raged in Europe. By then, York had begun speaking publicly in favor of preparedness and intervention. In May of 1941, he spoke at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I found the following words deeply moving:
“By our victory in the last war, we won a lease on liberty, not a deed to it. Now after 23 years, Adolf Hitler tells us that lease is expiring, and after the manner of all leases, we have the privilege of renewing it, or letting it go by default… We are standing at the crossroads of history. The important capitals of the world in a few years will either be Berlin and Moscow, or Washington and London. I, for one, prefer Congress and Parliament to Hitler’s Reichstag and Stalin’s Kremlin. And because we were for a time, side by side, I know this Unknown Soldier does too. We owe it to him to renew that lease of liberty he helped us to get.”
York attempted to serve again during World War II, but his health would not permit a return to combat. Though he could not fight overseas, he accepted a commission as a major and served in a signal and training capacity. He toured training camps, encouraged recruits, and participated in bond drives, often paying his own travel expenses.
A Dispute with the IRS
After the war, York faced another kind of battle. He had once faced machine-gun fire; tax law proved more complicated.
In 1951, the Internal Revenue Service charged that York hadn’t paid all of the taxes he owed on the money he made from the movie. What followed was years of strain and confusion. York had directed much of the film income toward his school, but the tax obligations remained. The matter dragged on for nearly a decade and became publicly known.
Eventually, Speaker of the House Sam Rayburn and Congressman Joe L. Evins helped establish what became known as the York Relief Fund. It was a public fundraising effort, not an appropriation of government funds. National attention — including mention by broadcaster Ed Sullivan — prompted donations from across the country that helped bring the matter to a close. In 1961, President John F. Kennedy called for the situation to be resolved.
Final Years
Alvin York died in 1964 after a long illness. His life was marked by standing for what he believed — in war, in peace, and in the complicated years between.
P.S. The names of York’s children didn’t quite fit into the flow of this post, but they were too good to leave out: Alvin Jr., George Edward (for his commanding officer), Woodrow Wilson, Sam Houston, Andrew Jackson, Betsy Ross, Mary Alice, and Thomas Jefferson. It seems fitting that a man who loved both Scripture and country would give his children names that echoed American history.
