York to Fork

The new Scion in the driveway started its first Saturday with 76 miles. By the end of Saturday, the odometer exceeded 500 miles. With a new set of wheels, we to hit the road. It was moral imperative.

After scouring maps for states parks and wildlife areas, we just took off on 40 East, climbing up the Cumberland Plateau. East Tennessee is still largely unknown to me, and a trip up the plateau seemed like a winner on a beautiful Saturday. At Crossville, we picked a destination - Alvin York State Historic Park, former home of Tennessee's World War I hero.

Outside Pall Mall, we turned for the Sgt. York burial site. Situated in a modest graveyard next to a small Methodist church, the WWI hero and his wife were surrounded by family in death as in life. Dozens of York grave stones dotted the immediate area.  Other names were repeated dozens of times.  The stones told a tale of a town where a few families lived, farmed and died.

Above the valley sat a series of tree-covered, rocky bluffs. From the cemetery, we could clearly see the Golden Doors, a rock formation where York prayed before enlisting.  Many York stones dotted the cemetery. 

Contrary to popular belief reinforced by the ending of the 1942 film, the state did not buy York a house. the Nashville Rotary did fundraising for a house but fell short, and Sgt. York sometimes struggled to pay for it.

The biggest surprise of York's home was the ranger minding the front desk. He looked awfully similar to the recent photo of York's son, Andrew Jackson York, on the sign out front.

Now in his eighties, Andrew Jackson York only works weekends at the former family homestead. For 42 years, he has been the home's caretaker. When ownership shifted to the state upon death of his mother and Sgt. York's widow, he took over. He told us tales of the house, Pall Mall, and himself

It really hit us how unusual that was. Sgt. York has four living children, all senior citizens themselves. The house presented a rare opportunity to learn its history from someone who grew up there. All the furnishings were original, as was the bed where Sgt. York spent the last years of his life after a debilitating stroke.

On this sunny, early spring day, dozens of ladybugs circulated through the house, standing in contrast to the white ceilings in many rooms.

Above the piano hung a depiction of George Washington's Mount Vernon estate with mother-of-pearl inlays. Andrew Jackson York was not sure where he father got it, but agreed it was a unique, beautiful piece.

Despite the "Do not play" signed, York told Nancy to play a song on the 110-year-old piano
She went with Ode to Joy and it sounded just right.

After exploring a 19th century grist mill included in the state  park and walking a muddy trail along the Wolf River, we popped into The Sgt.'s Diner for lunch. We eagerly consumed cheeseburgers, fries and ice cream cones while talking with the owners about their captivating town.

As we turned toward Big South Fork, Pall Mall seemed as if per-capita, it might be the friendliest place in Tennessee. People seemed glad we took the time to drive up, and left us eager to visit again.

I want to see it when the terrain is greener.

From Jamestown, we headed east following a ridgeline hemmed with country homes. The landscape rolled more severely as we crossed into the national recreation area. Admittedly, the late hour mandated that we could not give the river valley and plain the time it deserved. Even in winter, with piles of salt coating the park road's rapid descents. A quick stop at the visitor center gave us a glimpse into wide world of Big South Fork, which had few paved roads and remnants of utopian villages, forgotten railroads and massive, roaring river cutting through it.

The park road entered a series of steep switchbacks to the river before an equally steep climb on the east bank. At the East Rim Overlook, several churning rapids broke up placid stretches of river. The river sparkled below.

A long, rural drive that followed a number of mountain streams eventually spat us out at Harriman. As the sunset blossomed, we followed I-40 up several mountains. To the southeast, we spotted a mountain range that seemed large until we realized the Great Smoky Mountains soared immediately behind them.

With the light fading, we plotted which trails we would follow on our next trip to Big South Fork.