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The journey to Alvin Smith’s grave begins with a climb that feels both physical and symbolic. My son and I made our way up a steep hill in Palmyra, New York, toward a small cemetery that has been resting quietly for nearly two centuries. It is not much larger than a football field, yet the sense of history contained within its boundaries is immense. The hill rises above part of the town, and as you ascend, you begin to leave the modern world behind.
The stone steps leading upward are old but sturdy, worn in the middle by the passage of countless feet, each one a visitor drawn here for their own reasons. The higher you climb, the more the sound of the street fades into a soft background hum until all that remains is the quiet rustle of leaves in the breeze, accompanied by the occasional call of a distant bird. There is something almost sacred in that stillness, a feeling that this climb is not just to a physical resting place but toward a moment of reflection.
By the time we reached the top, I could feel the air shift. It seemed cooler and calmer, as though the tall trees surrounding the grounds were deliberately shielding this little hilltop from the rush of the world below. The landscape gently opens to a partial view over Palmyra, reminding you that while the town has grown and changed, this hill has remained a steady witness to every season and every passing year. The path into the cemetery is unassuming, with no grand gates or polished walkways, just the simple grass and weathered stones that have marked lives and stories for generations.
Once inside, the age of the cemetery becomes immediately clear. Many headstones have been tipped or broken, lying flat against the earth as though resting after standing for so long. Some are leaning at sharp angles, their bases shifted by time and frost, while others are barely visible at all. You can walk a short distance and spot dozens of stones that at first glance look like ordinary rocks until you notice the faint outline of a name or date carved long ago. The inscriptions are often eroded into illegibility, the wind, rain, and snow having worked patiently over the decades to soften their edges until they blend back into the land.
The sense of nature reclaiming the ground is strong here. Grass grows thickly between and over the stones, and wildflowers spring up in unexpected places. In some spots, the earth has shifted so much that only the top curve of a headstone peeks above the surface. It is a humbling sight, a reminder that time eventually wears down even the hardest stone and that memory, unless tended to, can be as fragile as the carved letters fading before your eyes.
Yet amid this quiet fading, certain graves stand out, preserved with care and intention. The one that drew me here belongs to Alvin Smith, the eldest brother of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Alvin’s memorial commands a kind of reverence as soon as you see it. While many stones here have succumbed to the weight of years, his has been given new life through preservation. The original headstone, weathered and delicate, is encased within a solid granite marker that both honors and protects it. On the front, the inscription is sharp and legible, ensuring that his name and story will not be lost to erosion. On the back, the original carving can still be faintly seen, its letters softened and darkened by nearly two hundred years of history.
At the base of the marker, signs of remembrance from modern visitors remain. A small bouquet of artificial flowers rests neatly against the stone. Scattered coins, each minted in our own day, reflect the sun in small flashes. A folded piece of Church literature lies there as well, perhaps placed by someone who, like me, felt a connection across the generations. The shade of nearby trees falls gently over the scene, creating a quiet, almost sacred calm. Standing there with my son, I felt not only the weight of history but also the closeness of family, faith, and the enduring ties that link the living with those who came before.
Who Was Alvin Smith
Alvin Smith was born on February 11, 1798, in Tunbridge, Vermont, the first child of Joseph Smith Sr. and Lucy Mack Smith. As the eldest of eleven children, Alvin carried a great deal of responsibility from a young age. The Smith family lived a life of hard work, moving several times before finally settling in the Palmyra Manchester area of New York. Alvin quickly became a key source of labor and stability, working alongside his father to establish and improve their farm.
By all accounts, Alvin was industrious, honest, and deeply committed to the welfare of his family. His mother, Lucy Mack Smith, described him as someone who worked tirelessly and cared deeply for those around him. He was not only a provider but a source of moral encouragement. When his younger brother Joseph began to share his experiences with the angel Moroni in 1823, Alvin was one of his earliest and most steadfast supporters.
“He was a youth of singular goodness of disposition, kind and amiable to his brothers and sisters, and greatly beloved by all who knew him.”
Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith by His Mother
Sadly, Alvin’s life was cut short just two months after Moroni’s first visit to Joseph. In November 1823, he fell seriously ill. Believing it to be bilious colic, doctors administered calomel, a common but dangerous mercury based treatment. The medicine proved fatal, and Alvin died on November 19, 1823, at only 25 years of age. His passing left a tremendous void in the Smith home, both emotionally and practically.
A Vision and a Doctrinal Landmark
Years after Alvin’s death, Joseph Smith recorded a vision that holds a unique place in Latter day Saint theology. In the Kirtland Temple in January 1836, Joseph saw the celestial kingdom. Among those he saw was Alvin, who had died before the Church was organized and before he had the opportunity to be baptized.
“And I marveled how it was that he had obtained an inheritance in that kingdom, seeing that he had departed this life before the Lord had set his hand to gather Israel the second time.”
(Doctrine and Covenants 137:6)
In that vision, the Lord revealed a principle that would later be tied to the doctrine of salvation for the dead. Those who die without a knowledge of the gospel, but who would have accepted it with all their hearts, will inherit the celestial kingdom. This teaching brought comfort not only to the Smith family but also to countless others who had wondered about the eternal fate of loved ones who died without baptism.
“All who have died without a knowledge of this gospel, who would have received it if they had been permitted to tarry, shall be heirs of the celestial kingdom of God.”
(Doctrine and Covenants 137:7)
For Latter day Saints, Alvin became a symbol of hope and assurance, a reminder that God’s mercy reaches beyond mortal limitations and that the work of salvation extends into the spirit world.
Standing at His Grave
Standing before Alvin’s grave was a moving experience. The new granite marker gives his name and details clearly, while preserving the original headstone behind it, weathered, softened, and almost erased by time, yet still there. This blend of old and new feels fitting. It speaks of the enduring memory of a man whose faith and example have not been forgotten, even as the years pass.
The setting adds to the solemn beauty. The cemetery is shaded by tall trees, their leaves filtering the sunlight so that the ground is dappled in gold and green. The air is quiet except for the occasional bird or whisper of wind. Around Alvin’s grave, the earth holds the markers of many others, some almost completely reclaimed by the soil. The sight of those hidden stones, dozens of them, serves as a reminder of how many lives have come and gone, their stories mostly untold.
At Alvin’s grave, the offerings left by visitors, coins, flowers, literature, suggest that people still come to honor him. Each token seems to say, “You are remembered.” It is humbling to think that a man who died so young, before seeing the Restoration fully unfold, continues to inspire people nearly two centuries later.
Why His Life Still Matters
Alvin’s influence is not measured in sermons preached or missions served, but in the quiet strength he lent to his family and the encouragement he gave to his brother Joseph at a pivotal moment. He did not live to see the plates retrieved, the Book of Mormon translated, or the Church organized. Yet without his early belief and support, Joseph’s path might have been lonelier and more difficult.
“The days of the pioneers are not past. There are modern pioneers whose achievements are an inspiration to all of us.”
Elder Dallin H. Oaks
In a sense, Alvin was a pioneer of the Restoration, not in the physical journey to the West, but in laying a foundation of faith at home. His story teaches that the work of God is often moved forward by people whose names may not be written in bold letters in the history books, but whose love, labor, and loyalty make a difference in ways that last for generations.
When I left the cemetery, I felt a renewed appreciation for the quiet contributions of those who serve without fanfare. Alvin’s life is a testimony that discipleship is not only about public acts of leadership but also about the unseen moments of faithfulness that strengthen the Lord’s work.
Conclusion
Visiting Alvin Smith’s grave with my son was more than a history stop. It was a walk into a place where the past still speaks. The hill, the trees, the worn stones, and the preserved marker all tell a story, not just of Alvin, but of the countless others who lived, worked, believed, and are now part of the sacred history of this area.
In the stillness of that place, I thought about the promises of the gospel, the reach of God’s mercy, and the ways in which even brief lives can leave an eternal mark. Alvin’s story is one of faith, family, and a quiet but enduring influence on the Restoration. Standing there, I was grateful to share the moment with my son, knowing that we were honoring a man whose legacy continues to matter.
“And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face.”
(Doctrine and Covenants 84:88)
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