Written by Bethany Cothran

Eighteen miles south of the museum housing Desmond Doss’ Medal of Honor, his legacy lives on in Georgia’s northern hills. There, Doss’ homegrown church still stands. 

Raised down the road from the Dosses in Rising Fawn, Georgia, Glenn Burchard remembers Doss from the time he was three years old and called him Uncle Desmond. With his birthday a day after Doss’, Burchard recalled years sharing his birthday celebrations with Doss and learning how to tie a knot resembling the one that helped Doss receive his Medal of Honor.

Founded and remodeled by the Doss family and community locals, the Lookout Mountain Seventh Day Adventist Church recruits members, explaining that their historical significance and faith in God drive them forward.

“You go to a big church and you’re one of four or five hundred or one of a thousand, you go to a small church and the lady notices when you’re not here and sends you a card,” Burchard said. “…it’s like a big family.”

Born in 1962, Burchard grew up alongside the church as it transitioned from a small schoolhouse to a developing community. 

The Dosses bought the land and began making renovations on the old schoolhouse in 1953. By 1969, they had a small congregation working to improve the church to its current state.

“I have covered a lot of nails, pulled a lot of wires, run some water lines,” Burchard said. “I’ve carpentered, plumbered, you name it.”

Doss grew up a Seventh-Day Adventist. Born on Feb. 7, 1919 in Lynchburg, Virginia, he’s known for being a conscientious objector meaning he would not carry a gun.

“We live in a throw away society,” Burchard said. “[Doss] valued things. He valued human life. He valued everything that came to him.”

When World War II began, Doss enlisted to serve in the United States army as a combat medic. Honoring his religious beliefs, he never held weapons, yet still returned a hero.

In May 1945, Doss saved the lives of 75 soldiers who would have otherwise died on the battlefield at Hacksaw Ridge. In the line of fire without a gun, Doss lowered each soldier down the ridge to safety with a rope, treating their injuries and dodging bullets in the process.

Five months later, on Oct.12, 1945, the Army recognized Doss for his heroism with a Medal of Honor as the first and only conscientious objector to receive it.

Whereas other soldiers fought enemies with guns, Doss used his faith in God to survive the war. With the Bible at his side, Doss relied on the word of God, pushing him to save as many lives as possible without killing a single enemy. 

“Desmond’s motto was ‘just one more,’” Burchard said. “He lived and he served his God.”

For Doss, God came first and his country came second. He prioritized his religious beliefs while fulfilling what he felt was his duty to serve his nation. 

“Desmond had the strongest convictions of anyone I know,” Burchard said. “…when you’re raised in the depression, you value things differently.”

While serving in the war, Doss not only refused to carry a gun, he insisted on spending his Saturdays in church rather than on the battlefield.

Upon returning home, Doss continued to serve those around him. After moving to Rising Fawn, Doss and his wife, Dorothy, built the home where they raised their son, Desmond Doss Jr., just a few miles away from the Lookout Mountain Seventh Day Adventist Church. 

In a community where Doss is more commonly known as just Desmond, many members of the congregation recognized him like a neighbor, caring for him the way they would each other.

“Desmond is one of the unique people that went to war to give people the opportunity to choose which church they went to,” Burchard said. “Knowing his story, the United States Army didn’t want a nutcase that wouldn’t carry a gun, and he refused to be discharged and he brought that passion with him.”

Often thought of as exceedingly humble, Doss did not discuss his time in the war much with anyone. While the congregation heard stories, many members said it was not until watching Hacksaw Ridge, a film about Doss, that they realized how much he went through.

“When he would tell his story, it wasn’t about him,” Burchard said. “It was what God did for him or what God allowed him to do.”

Seventeen years since Doss’ death, Lookout Mountain Seventh Day Adventist Church continues to bring in new members, praise God and honor Doss’ legacy while upholding the beliefs he fought for over 70 years ago.

Katie Stephens spoke with Desmond Doss Jr. regarding his mother and her impact on the Rising Fawn community as well as on her husband, Desmond Doss.

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City of Heroes

Written by Noah Keur

From Coolidge Park’s century-old carousel to its animal-shaped fountains, the grounds may seem like any old park to the average visitor. However, Chattanooga’s lush patch of grass along the Tennessee Riverwalk is much more than that.

It’s an ever-standing reminder of Charles Coolidge’s heroic act in 1944.

When Coolidge stood face-to-face with two German tanks with a mere handgun in his hand, he wasn’t doing it to be remembered as a great war hero—or because he knew one day there would be a monument representing his actions.

“One of the things Mr. Coolidge said to me was, ‘I was just doing my job,’” said Linda Moss Mines, Chattanooga-Hamilton County, Tennessee’s official historian. “The Medal of Honor is for valor and intrepidity in the face of overwhelming obstacles, and you still choose to do the right thing. And that’s what he wanted remembered.”

No matter his intentions, the city of Chattanooga chose to memorialize Coolidge’s achievements. Just a few years after his Medal of Honor ceremony, they decided they were going to honor him with a park.

This is no easy process, though. Not only did the city have to juggle the cost of the part, they also had to manage the engineering, the Department of Defense, public opinion and most importantly, what Coolidge wanted.

“He wanted family space,” Mines said. “He was very much a family man. He didn’t want military implements. He didn’t want tanks and guns, even though that would have been appropriate to help tell his story. But, he wanted his love of family and community to shine. He wanted a peaceful green space in the city that would encourage families to come together and share time together.”

When you understand the mindset of most recipients of the Medal of Honor, Coolidge’s thought process behind the park comes as no surprise. 

“As is so true with every Medal of Honor recipient I’ve worked with, it’s never about them,” Mines said. “In their eyes, they wear the medal for their brothers in arms who didn’t come home. It’s a heavy burden these men carry.” 

Coolidge’s story is no anomaly concerning the relationship between the Medal of Honor and the Scenic City. Chattanooga has a deep, rich history regarding the award. Dating back to the first one ever awarded, to Private Jacob Parrott in 1863, there have been many men—and one woman—who both won the Medal of Honor and held a connection to Chattanooga in some way.

“Right now, we are the bookend of the entire Medal of Honor story,” Mines said. “We are the first, and we are the most recent with Larry Taylor. And five of those medal recipients are buried here at the National Cemetery.” 

With roadways such as Desmond Doss Highway and Paul Huff Parkway, as well as historic sites such as Point Park and Missionary Ridge, the Chattanooga area has always found ways to preserve its history and honor those who helped shape it.

“Chattanooga remembers its own,” Mines said. “There are lots of towns in which you don’t find veteran’s memorials of any sort. You don’t find active veteran’s organizations. We are very blessed in that sense.”

Keeping this history alive serves more than just one purpose. Not only does it help prevent the past from repeating itself, it expresses the qualities these veterans exemplified through their actions. 

“The characteristics each of those Medal of Honor recipients exhibit, which is commitment, citizenship, courage, sacrifice, integrity, and patriotism—those are the same characteristics that allows a second grader to stop someone from bullying their buddy on the playground,” Mines said. “It’s the same thing that allows you to step forward and lead your high school class. These traits are universal.” 

A patch of grass, a windy road or an old, brick structure are simply objects if the meaning behind them is not understood. Luckily, Chattanooga ensures these landmarks are not seen as common aspects of everyday life—but as powerful representations of the city’s heroes. 

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