James Wilson never talked much about his service in World War II.
“He talked about how the conditions were very difficult, but he never liked to go into the difficulties,” his daughter Tina Wilson Roberts said. “I wish I knew more. He told my brother it was very difficult, but he made a lot of friends.”
Wilson, who was born in 1925, grew up and spent his life in Herminie, a small coal town in Westmoreland County that was never home to more than two or three Black families. As a member of one of those families, he learned early to be polite, speak softly, work hard and tackle the challenges life threw his way.
It wasn’t until this summer, 26 years after Wilson’s death, that Roberts learned her father was among the Montford Point Marines — a group of men who paved the way for the full integration of the Marine Corps.
This week, Roberts and her family will accept a posthumous Congressional Gold Medal for James Henry Wilson, honoring his service as a Montford Point Marine. He served with the 51st Marine Defense Battalion in the Pacific Theater from 1944 to 1945.
Although President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed an order ending segregation in the defense industry in 1941 and the Marines Corps opened its doors to Black recruits in 1942, Black Marines weren’t welcome to train with their white counterparts.
Instead, they were sent to Montford Point, a segregated training camp built next to Camp Lejune in North Carolina. Segregation was so rigidly enforced that Black Marines who trained at Montford Point weren’t permitted in the neighboring all-white camp unless accompanied by a white Marine.
Nonetheless, the men of the 51st Defense Battalion distinguished themselves as among the finest artillery gunners in the Marine Corps, breaking almost every accuracy record in training. Thousands would go on to serve in the Pacific.
It took years, but eventually the Marine Corps was integrated.
Wilson died in 1994, 17 years before President Obama signed a law bestowing the nation’s highest civilian honor on the 20,000 men who passed through the Montford Point Marine training center between 1942 and 1949.
“Despite being denied many basic rights, the Montford Point Marines committed to serve our country with selfless patriotism,” Obama said, as he signed the bill.
Remembering ‘Jimmy’
In Herminie, older residents remember Wilson as a respected citizen who worked his way up the ranks at the state prison in Greensburg, served on the local library board and was a member of the Sewickley Township Planning Commission.
Few knew that when he came home from World War II, he wasn’t welcome at the local VFW or American Legion.
“My dad was very quiet on that front,” Roberts said. “He joined the Greensburg Legion and VFW because, at that point, Herminie would not let him join. He just decided if they didn’t want him, he’d go someplace else. A lot of African Americans were like that back then. They just didn’t talk about it.”
Wilson’s mother, who was widowed in Virginia when he was 2, brought the toddler home to Herminie, where her father had worked in the mines. The young man grew up in her family’s Station Street home, went to work sweeping the floors at Trozzo’s Feed Store when he was 12, graduated from Sewickley High School and went to war in 1943 with much of the rest of his generation. He came home, married and went to work at the state prison. He earned an associate degree from Penn State, saw his three children off to college and retired from the prison as a captain of the guard.
Sandy Mireles Dull, who owns Sandy’s Barbershop in Herminie, said Wilson was well-known and had many friends in the small town.
“His picture still hangs in Nickels Funeral Home,” Dull said. “He and Mr. Nickels were good friends. Everyone knew Jimmy Wilson.” Roberts said it seemed as though everyone in town knew her dad and looked up to him.
“If we did something, he’d know about it before we even got home. Once, when I was an adult living in Ohio, I got a speeding ticket on my way home from a visit with him. When I called to let him know I’d arrived home safely, he said ‘Yeah, and what about that ticket?’ ”
Leo Caviggia, 91, of Herminie shared fond memories of Wilson.
“Jimmy Wilson was special,” Caviggia said.
Caviggia met Wilson, who was five years his senior, when he was a child. The two would go on to become lifelong friends. They rode to work together for years after Wilson helped Caviggia, who was the town barber, get a job at the prison.
Caviggia, who is hard of hearing, recounted his memories of Wilson with the help of his daughter, Lisa Phillips.
He remembered when Wilson was hired at the prison and worried about leaving the feed store.
“He said Trozzos had been good to him, and he felt bad about leaving them. He wasn’t making much there. And here he was being offered a good job with benefits, and he felt bad about leaving them,” Caviggia said. “He was just that kind of guy.”
Caviggia said Wilson often would stop at his barbershop to visit — but he never asked his friend to cut his hair. And Wilson quickly excused himself and left anytime a customer came in.
“My dad doesn’t know why he did that,” Phillips said. “He said he still feels bad about it.”
Roberts said she and her sister, Roxianne, and their brother, James, learned to persevere and quietly work around hurdles from their dad’s example.
“When we were in high school at Yough, my sister wanted to be a nurse” Roberts said. “She knew Monsour Medical Center had a nursing scholarship. But when she went to the guidance counselor to ask for an application, the counselor told her, ‘Oh, you don’t want to do that. Maybe you can go to community college.’ So she sent her friend in to ask for an application, filled it out and won the scholarship.”
Leading by example
People like her father did a lot to advance civil rights simply by example, Roberts said. She hopes those in the Black Lives Matter movement will look to examples such as her dad as they work to reinvigorate the civil rights movement.
“A lot of younger folks don’t know what their elders went through. And they will have to go through a lot, too. These guys did it with grace and peaceful protest and a work ethic to show people what they could do. It’s going to take that kind of work to make the changes they want to see in the world,” Roberts said.
On Oct. 16, Stanley Thompson, a retired Marine with the Rockford, Ill., chapter of the National Montford Marines Association, will head to Roberts’ home in Troy, Mich. Wilson’s family members will gather for an hourlong medal presentation ceremony.
Wilson’s nine grandchildren were thrilled to learn about the honor earned by the man they always called “Poppy.” Roberts told them it is a reminder of how Wilson lived.
“I told them you just have to understand the things your grandfather lived through,” she said. “He lived through so many things, and he still rose above them. Some people can get stuck. He just stuck in there hoping things would get better. It was there in the way he treated people, the way he got his education, the way he lived.”