By Msgr. Noel C. Burtenshaw

It was cold in Atlanta. The war was raging in Europe. It was November 7, 1944. Father Augustine Moore arrived in Conyers to be a part of the new Trappist community.

Although he was a Trappist for only two years, the former Fred Moore was “Father” Augustine. That’s because before he entered the Trappists up in Kentucky he had been a diocesan priest for five years.

“I wanted to go into the army as a chaplain,” says Father Augustine in his beautiful monastery in Conyers. “However, I had a lesion on my lung. I was also talking to the Trappists at that time about entering the monastery. I was really scared about joining the monastery, so I figured I had it made. If the army would not take me, neither would the Trappists.”

Father Fred Moore was wrong. Abbot James Fox, the famous monk who encouraged Thomas Merton to begin his writing, assured the young Father Moore that he could enter the monastery provided there was no disease present. In June 1942 he joined the famed, silent, contemplative order.

“I suppose I felt I would spend the rest of my days at Gesthsemane in my home state of Kentucky.,” says Father Augustine, “but that was not to be.”

A few days before being sent to Georgia, his parents visited him in Gesthsemane. “It was sort of strange,” says the former Abbot. “Parents did not get to visit in those days. I wondered about that visit and so did they. The Abbot did not tell them and he did not tell me.”

The surprise orders came and Father Augustine, only two years a monk, was sent to Conyers, Georgia. “It was hard,” remembers the smiling monk. “We only had a barn to live and sleep in. It was cold. The wind blew through the cracks in the wall. And all we could think about was completing our first monastery. It was under way and we wanted it finished by the Feast of Our Lady, December 8. We also wanted to get in out of the cold.”

The new little foundation of 20 monks living on the tract of land that was part of a gigantic plantation “way out of Atlanta” had no time to farm or grow food. They needed a home and a chapel. What is now workshops and a stained glass factory became their beautiful new monastic edifice on December 8, 1944, the feast of the Immaculate Conception.

After that first hurdle was crossed, wonderful things began to happen. “We knew this was just temporary,” says Father Augustine. “Our real task was to build a monastery and a chapel. It would take work and it would take money. Both of those necessary things came to us over the next few years.”

The war ended and the troops came home. Many of them were greatly disillusioned with the world that won the war. They were in search of greater challenges and more than mere material gain. At that precise moment, Thomas Merton published his roaring best seller “Seven Story Mountain.” The book tells of his search for God and his journey to contentment as a Trappist monk.

“We began to get vocations in all our monasteries,” recalls Father Augustine. “We got them in Conyers. Many would come each year, not all stayed, but they were the helpers who worked to build the monastery.”

“Of course, many did stay and a great many placed their talents at the disposal of the work. Fathers Bob, Paul and Methodias were not only giant workers but they were invaluable in creating the design we needed and helping the architects.”

Father Augustine Moore has been a monk in Conyers for almost 40 years. For 25 years he was the Abbot of the community and without any hesitation his fondest memory was the day the new monastery was dedicated.

“It was bedlam,” he remembers with a great grin. “But it was wonderful. I will never forget it. It was the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, December 12, 1960. It was overcast so we did not expect too many would come. My heavens, 75,000 people showed up for the open house. Celestine Sibley had written a delightful column saying that this was the one and only time women would get in. That must have done it. The State Patrol were overwhelmed with the cars stretching for miles waiting to see the new monastery.”

“We put four cows through the meat grinder and the women of the Atlanta parishes made thousands of cupcakes. All this food was not enough. It was marvelous, most un-Trappist, but marvelous.”

In 1955 Father Augustine’s life drastically changed. He was sent to Rome as “definitor” which is the monastery’s representative in the Eternal City. He remained there for two years. In 1957, the Abbot of the Conyers monastery traveled to Europe to attend the General Chapter of the Order. “He got sick in Paris, went into the hospital and died. It was very sudden, very tragic. I was there so I made the arrangements and took the body back.”

Another change was now to take place in the life of this Kentucky monk. An election was held and he was elected the new Abbot. “It was a great challenge, the community was growing. The original band of 20 had grown as large as 90, although that number fluctuated. But we had good growth.”

Challenging years lay ahead of this gentle, good-humored man in the monastery in Conyers. “The Council brought renewal to us too,” he remarked. “Our totally silent life changed. So did our liturgy and the order of our day. The community was changing.”

In 1971, although Father Augustine was “Abbot for life” he asked permission to step down as superior so that a new election might be held. The permission was granted but once more the community elected him Abbot. Again in 1977 an election took place. Father Augustine was once more named Abbott. Now in 1983 this well-known, good-humored monk has again stepped aside and new superior, Father Amand Villeux, has been named until an election can be held at a later time.

Father Augustine recalls wonderful memories of his years out at Conyers. “Thomas Merton died in Bangkok in 1968. He informed me before leaving on that trip that he had scheduled a visit on the way back. I knew him in Kentucky. I wished he could have visited.”

“Then, of course, my fondest memories are of the people and the priests of our parishes. We have always been very close. It has been a great pleasure to know and work with them. And all the bishops of Atlanta were so good to us. Archbishop O’Hara was so gracious, Bishop Hyland – always available. I was one of the last to see Archbishop Hallinan the night he died. The nurse told me he spoke his final words to me. He merely said, “Pray for me, Gus.” And, of course, Archbishop Donnellan has been a wonderful friend. I have great memories of them all.”

Once more he is the Trappist community monk – Father Augustine. His daily work takes him to the sacristy and to the bakery. He is part of the community to which he was assigned almost 40 years ago. The community has changed. He has changed. In the silent, prayerful world of the Trappist good growth has been tasted.