conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for a book with the title 'Sergeant York'?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sergeant York
  I would most awful liked to have seen him dressed in them-there black deerskins he used to wear, with his hair all platted up in the pioneer way, standin' lookin' acrost the river at the sunset with them-there Indians a-crawlin' up behind him without a chance in the world to get their hands on him. And that jump down into the trees, ho! ho!
  I guess hit's my love of good shootin' more'n the fact that old Davy Crockett once hunted coon with my great-great-grandfather that makes me like to listen in on any story, or read anything I can git a-hold of about him. Old Davy may not have been the explorer and statesman that Daniel Boone was, but to my way of thinkin' he was even a better hunter and fighter. If he was in the wilderness he jes natcherly knowed where to find game and to bring it down without wastin' powder and lead. They say that when he was with General Jackson's army and the men was starving all around him that he would always get something for himself and for a lot of others. He used to call his favourite rifle Betsy; and we-uns in the mountains think such a lot of old Davy that a right-smart number of us call ours after that old muzzle-loader of his.
  Right down the line, Davy Crockett come from fightin' stock. He has Scotch-Irish blood in him. His grandfather and grandmother was killed by the Indians. His father fought in the Revolutionary War and David himself was a soldier with General Jackson and in the end died like a man at the Alamo.
  He must have been jes about the greatest baar hunter that ever lived. When Davy with his muzzle-loader and baar hounds went out after them they hadn't much chance. He knowed their habits and their feeding grounds almost as well as they knowed them themselves; and in the winter time he knowed how to locate them in hollow trees and in their cane houses and harricanes. He was such a right-smart hunter that he could always tell whether they were up in the tree or not. He knowed that when they climb up they don't slip a bit but when they come down they leave long scratches.
  One dark night Davy and his dogs got into a most awful mix-up with a screamer of a baar which they done treed in a big poplar. He shot the baar down but it was only wounded. Then in the darkness they all got mixed up and went to it. He couldn't use his rifle when in the darkness. So he jes got out his old hunting knife and went into it right. The dogs chased the baar into a big crack in the ground and Davy let fly with his old muzzle-loader gun, but instid of killing the baar he wounded it in the fleshy part of the back. That made it roarin' mad. It come out of the crack and they went at it agin. In the mix-up Davy lost his rifle, so he picked up a pole and begun to punch the baar about until finally, with the help of his hounds, he got it back in the crack again. And they all got down after it. The baar was mussin' up the dogs right smart, and Davy, like the good hunter he was, didn't like that a bit. He must have been jes about as mad as the baar. He jumped down right on the baar's back, and in the darkness, with the baar and the dogs barkin' and roarin' and fightin' and scratchin' and bitin', he jes finished that old baar with his hunter's knife, ho! ho!
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I knowed now that if I went back and told the Major I was still opposed to fighting he would let me out or have me transferred into another branch of the service where I wouldn't have to kill. He knowed now that I was sincere. He was a good man. He would help me. But something in me had kinder changed. I was beginning to see war in a different light. I had takened to heart and read over and over again them-there passages from the Bible he had read to me. I kinder balanced them against the passages that made me a conscientious objector. I had tried to bring the two together. I knowed the "Lord worked in marvellous ways, His wonders to perform." I knowed that He had His own way of saying and doing things. I knowed that if it was His will He would even use war as an instrument in His hands. I tried to look at it this way. I talked to Pastor Pile again and again. But all I got from all of this was to get more and more confused than ever. I jes didn't know what to do; whether to want war or peace; and I didn't know which He wanted me to do.
  So I went out on the mountainside and asked Him sorter straight out from the shoulder. I went off to a quiet place not far from my home. I knelt down and I prayed and I prayed all the afternoon, through the night and through part of the next day. I asked Him to have pity on me and show me the light. I begged Him to comfort me if it was His will and tell me what to do. And as I prayed there alone a great peace kinder come into my soul and a great calm come over me and I received my assurance. He heard my prayer and He come to me on the mountainside. I didn't see Him, of course, but He was there jes the same. I knowed He was there. He understood that I didn't want to be a fighter or a killin' man, that I didn't want to go to war and hurt nobody nohow. And yet I wanted to do what my country wanted me to do. I wanted to serve God and my country, too. He understood all of this. He seed right inside of me, and He knowed I had been troubled and worried, not because I was afraid, but because I put Him first, even before my country, and I only wanted to do that which would please Him.
  So He took pity on me and He gave me the assurance I needed. I didn't understand everything. I didn't understand how He could let me go to war and even kill and yet not hold it agin me. I didn't even want to understand. It was His will and that was enough for me. So at last I begun to see the light. I begun to understand that no matter what a man is forced to do, so long as he is right in his own soul he remains a righteous man. I knowed I would go to war. I knowed I would be protected from all harm, and that so long as I believed in Him He would not allow even a hair of my head to be harmed.
  I told my little old mother I was going and not to worry. I was coming back safe and sound. I told my brothers and sisters and I told Pastor Pile. And for a while I was happy and at peace with myself and with my God.
  But when I went back to camp and seed all the boys there getting ready to go to the war, some of the old worries come a-piling back on my soul. I knowed I was all right. But I kinder got a-figurin' that the whole thing was a heap bigger than my own personal peace of soul. I might be safe myself, but in going over there and fightin' I might be helping to have them killed and a heap more of others, too, and that worried me.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I knowed now that if I went back and told the Major I was still opposed to fighting he would let me out or have me transferred into another branch of the service where I wouldn't have to kill. He knowed now that I was sincere. He was a good man. He would help me. But something in me had kinder changed. I was beginning to see war in a different light. I had takened to heart and read over and over again them-there passages from the Bible he had read to me. I kinder balanced them against the passages that made me a conscientious objector. I had tried to bring the two together. I knowed the "Lord worked in marvellous ways, His wonders to perform." I knowed that He had His own way of saying and doing things. I knowed that if it was His will He would even use war as an instrument in His hands. I tried to look at it this way. I talked to Pastor Pile again and again. But all I got from all of this was to get more and more confused than ever. I jes didn't know what to do; whether to want war or peace; and I didn't know which He wanted me to do.
  So I went out on the mountainside and asked Him sorter straight out from the shoulder. I went off to a quiet place not far from my home. I knelt down and I prayed and I prayed all the afternoon, through the night and through part of the next day. I asked Him to have pity on me and show me the light. I begged Him to comfort me if it was His will and tell me what to do. And as I prayed there alone a great peace kinder come into my soul and a great calm come over me and I received my assurance. He heard my prayer and He come to me on the mountainside. I didn't see Him, of course, but He was there jes the same. I knowed He was there. He understood that I didn't want to be a fighter or a killin' man, that I didn't want to go to war and hurt nobody nohow. And yet I wanted to do what my country wanted me to do. I wanted to serve God and my country, too. He understood all of this. He seed right inside of me, and He knowed I had been troubled and worried, not because I was afraid, but because I put Him first, even before my country, and I only wanted to do that which would please Him.
  So He took pity on me and He gave me the assurance I needed. I didn't understand everything. I didn't understand how He could let me go to war and even kill and yet not hold it agin me. I didn't even want to understand. It was His will and that was enough for me. So at last I begun to see the light. I begun to understand that no matter what a man is forced to do, so long as he is right in his own soul he remains a righteous man. I knowed I would go to war. I knowed I would be protected from all harm, and that so long as I believed in Him He would not allow even a hair of my head to be harmed.
  I told my little old mother I was going and not to worry. I was coming back safe and sound. I told my brothers and sisters and I told Pastor Pile. And for a while I was happy and at peace with myself and with my God.
  But when I went back to camp and seed all the boys there getting ready to go to the war, some of the old worries come a-piling back on my soul. I knowed I was all right. But I kinder got a-figurin' that the whole thing was a heap bigger than my own personal peace of soul.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Like its founder, Sergeant Alvin York, the Center for Peace and Valor, will serve to promote the values and the qualities of courage, sacrifice, patriotism, and peace through increased awareness, education, behavior, and example.
  With your help, this historic project will continue as a matter of legacy, to serve as it was intended—as a sanctuary for those who might dare to dream and as a beacon for those who strive to understand and contribute to the world beyond their humble homes.
  The old building's foundation runs deep—to bedrock. The old masonry walls remain true as the day they were laid. Few things these days can say they were built and still do stand as a matter of history. Of course, the likes of Sergeant Alvin C. York don't come along just every day.
  To contribute to these efforts and help establish The Center for Peace and Valor, please consider donating to his Foundation, pledging your support, and lending yourself to this proud Legacy. Every bit helps. Please go to:
  York Historical School, Home of the Sgt York Center for Peace and Valor, as it appears today—ready for rehabilitation.