I happened across your website today and it brought back many childhood memories of my days visiting and working at Kriebel & Bates as I grew up.

My father, who is still living a good life at the age of 89, is one of three brothers who worked alongside my grandfather, who started and ran the company, Kriebel & Bates.

As I was growing up, I spent many days at that office in Indianapolis where all of the Sallman paintings were displayed on the hallway and office walls for everyone to look at.

I remember talking with my grandfather, my dad, and my uncle about the stories behind each of the paintings, and I still remember being shown the small details that Mr. Sallman had painted into some of his paintings that were not known or seen by the average person observing his works.

As I grew up I worked at their office sweeping floors, and eventually started working in the production areas mounting the litho prints onto pieces of cardboard, cutting them to size, and wrapping them in brown craft paper to be stored until they were shipped off to places around the world.

I remember one summer day, while still a very young boy, going to the office with my dad where I met Mr. Sallman, who was painting in my grandfather’s office. He was repainting and touching up one of his earlier portraits that hung on my grandfather’s office wall. I remember how he smiled as we talked about how he used his brushes and tools, and how much he enjoyed painting.

A few days after that visit with Mr. Sallman, I was at the office again when my grandfather gave me the palette, a painter’s knife, and the three brushes that Mr. Sallman had been using the day we talked. I kept those items in my bedroom where they stayed as I grew up. Unfortunately, they were given away when my mother sold and moved away from that house after I left home for the military.

I am now 58 years old, but I still often think about and have so many memories from my days visiting and working at Kriebel & Bates, and hearing the stories behind Mr. Sallman’s paintings; but most of all, I will always especially remember that one summer day when I met and talked with Mr. Sallman.

My mother was an Anderson College student in the late 1930s, working as a secretary at the Gospel Trumpet (now known as Warner Press). One day, as she was working, an artist came in and asked her what she thought of his work. She looked at it and fell in love with it. She directed him to the proper people at the Gospel Trumpet, and the rest is history. So, my mother is probably the first one to see Warner Sallman’s art at the Gospel Trumpet and encourage him to show it to the right people.

The story continues. Forward to 1953.

My father, Rev. Gerald R. Weaver, was a US Army chaplain stationed in Korea in 1953 along the 38th parallel, north of Seoul, Korea with the 57th field artillery of the 7th Infantry Division.

[Photo: US Army chaplain Gerald R. Weaver.]

My father was talking to an artist called “Jerry the Tramp.” Jerry was an army soldier that painted nudes on some of the soldiers’ lockers while he was stationed in Korea. My dad asked him to paint something inspirational and wholesome, instead of all the nudes he was doing. He gave him a small pocket print of Sallman’s Head of Christ, that Dad kept in his pocket.

Jerry surprised my dad by presenting him with a painted copy of Sallman’s Head of Christ, signed by Jerry, the Tramp. My father put the painting in the quonset hut they were using as a field chapel. The troops were thrilled with this picture of Christ. So this painting was used to inspire our troops in Korea.

When my dad returned to civilian life, he hung this painting in his office for years, until he gave it to me a few years ago. This painting is 23 x 30 inches on canvas. It is framed on plywood backing and is homemade, using materials they could find in the army in Korea. It is definitely a piece of history and nostalgia.

[Photo: Jerry's the Tramp's painting, inspired by Sallman's Head of Christ.]

Sallman’s art work is what I grew up with as a preacher’s kid. My dad was always carrying around Sallman’s pocket art, to give out to people. In a way, I am now carrying on that tradition, with my own artwork (www.nancycupp.com). I majored in art at Anderson University and now do Christian art that is being shown in churches. I recently painted one called The Broken Vessel that has had so many requests, that I had to start printing copies. I decided this year to start making prints of my art, so more lives can be touched with the Gospel. I write the story and scriptures on the back of my art work prints, so that God’s word can touch more people.

Some artists think it is terrible to make prints of art, because they want their original to be “one of a kind”. I have a different view. When, it comes to spreading the Gospel, it needs to be available to all. God bless Warner Press for making the Gospel available to so many people, not just those who can afford an original.

Romans 9:17 — For this very purpose did I raise thee up, that I might show in thee my power, and that my name might be published abroad in all the earth.

The older I get the more I reflect on memories of days gone by and the events that had an impact on my life. The majority of those memories center around the church and the community where I grew up. A phrase popularized by Hillary Clinton in the mid 1990s that “It takes a village to raise a child” certainly applied to my childhood days.

I was fortunate to have grown up in the 1940s and 50s in the small Midwestern town of Guthrie Center in central Iowa, population around 2,000. My Dad was a plumber and my Mom was a stay-at-home Mom who was almost always there when I got home from school. A real treat was a plate of warm oatmeal cookies with candied orange slices baked in them waiting for me when I got home from school. I can still smell the aroma of those cookies and when paired with a glass of cold milk, that was one of life’s real treats.

Along with school, most of my “social life” centered around the church. My family went to First Christian Church, Disciples of Christ, at the corner of 4th street and Main. It was a two-story brick building with the fellowship hall and children’s Sunday school rooms down stairs and the sanctuary and adult Sunday school rooms upstairs. There was a balcony and while it was off limits to children, we would sometimes sneak up there and gaze out over the sanctuary. At that time the sanctuary looked like such a large place. When I am fortunate enough to return to the church of my youth today, the sanctuary seems like a much smaller and intimate space than it did in my youth.

Many special memories come from my long-time association with that church. Perfect attendance at Sunday school was always an annual goal. Summer Bible School was an event we all looked forward to. A friend and I got “suspended” from Bible School one time but that’s too long a story to include here. As we got older, Christian Youth Fellowship activities helped us learn some important social skills. Our minister made sure we developed self-confidence by having us speak in front of the congregation on a regular basis.

[Photo: Orlo Shroyer visits with Lillian Grove, his childhood Sunday School teacher, during December 2009.]

My wife and I were married in the church in 1963. My mother’s funeral and my wife’s parent’s funeral were all held in the church. The sanctuary was being remodeled at the time my father died so we had to “borrow” the local Methodist church for that service.

I don’t remember all of my Sunday school teachers as I was growing up but I do have a special memory of one lady who would visit our Sunday School class each year. I always looked forward to Lillian Grove coming by and sharing a story about one of Warner Sallman’s paintings. We had at least four of Sallman’s paintings hanging in our church and Lillian would bring the painting and a little booklet written to interpret the paintings. I remember four in particular. They were The Head of Christ, Christ in Gethsemane, The Lord is My Shepherd, and Christ at Heart’s Door. While I enjoyed them all, my favorite and the one I remember best was Christ at Heart’s Door.

Lillian was a soft-spoken lady but her presence demanded respect and of course we knew that if we didn’t pay attention and were disruptive we would not only have to answer to our Sunday school teacher but our parents as well. I don’t remember how old I was when I first heard Lillian describe one of Sallman’s paintings but I do know that she continued to come to our classes through high school so I would have heard each presentation at least two times.

With the help of her booklet, Lillian would point out the various features of the painting. There were three features in Christ at Heart’s Door that made the most lasting impression on me. First, was the heart-shaped light that surrounds the figure of Christ and the door. Lillian would remind us that Christ was standing at the door of our heart, hoping we would let him in. The second feature was that there was no external handle on the door. The only way the door to our heart could be open was from within. It had to be our decision whether Christ would enter our lives. The third feature was the thorns that had grown up in the garden and were reaching out to touch the hem of Christ’s garment. These thorns represented the sins in our life and Christ would forgive them if we ask.

The booklet that Lillian used with the Christ at Heart’s Door was written by Howard W. Ellis in 1946. I had been searching for a copy of that booklet for some time. I wanted to use it to share the story with young people in our church in Jefferson City, with the hope that it might touch their lives as it did mine. With the help of Randy Dillinger at Anderson University, I was able to purchase one on eBay. One thing I had forgotten was that Christ at Heart’s Door was painted in 1942, the year I was born. The booklet is a special treasure.

Another real treasure is when I have the chance to visit my boyhood church, I get to say thank you to Lillian Grove, now Lillian Leatherby, for the special memories I have of growing up and remind her of what an influence she was on my life. She is now 94 years old and on oxygen but I can still give her a hug.

I met Warner Sallman in the mid 1960s as he visited my church, Christ Lutheran, in Chicago. His cousin Henry belonged to the same church and had asked Warner to visit and discuss his creations. He did better than that! He sketched in chalk a replica of his famous Head of Christ as he told us the story of its origins. The whole process took an hour, as I recall, but he never broke his momentum as the canvas was transformed before our eyes. The image was signed by him, along with a couple of his favorite Bible verses, and still hangs in the hall at the church. One of those verses was Heb. 12:2 – “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” [PHOTO: Warner Sallman creates a chalk drawing of Head of Christ at Christ Lutheran Church in Chicago. Photo courtesy of Ken Larson.]

After my father’s death in 1957, my grandparents were inspired by a painting they saw in a church where they had worshipped in Baltimore, Md. They approached Mr. Sallman and asked him to paint that same picture. As a well known artist, he could not nor would he paint a copy of someone else’s work. They agreed on a painting and he was commissioned to paint Christ ascending into heaven, hands outstretched overlooking the river Jordan. It was to be placed in the baptistry of then the Northside Christian Church in Chicago, Ill., as a memorial to my father. In April of 1960, when the painting was finished and ready for unveiling, I had the honor, as a 14-year-old, of presenting that painting to the congregation that Sunday morning. As I remember, the painting is approximately 6 feet wide by 8 feet long; it is really a mural. Mr. Sallman actually glued the painting to the wall of the baptistry rather than on a frame. My mother and I were overwhelmed when we saw this work of art. When my mother retired as the church organist, she was presented with a framed photo of the painting, and it hangs in my home today. Mr. Sallman also presented my mother a signed print of his most famous Head of Christ. That print is prominently hung in my home today. The sad part of this story is that painting is hung behind drapes that are only open for a few minutes on Sunday mornings. Just a few fortunate people can enjoy this work of art. It is my hope that some day it can be displayed in a museum or more public location for the world to view.

My first husband purchased my Warner Sallman picture of Christ for me when I was 15 years old in 1972 at a flea market. I have had it displayed at the focal point of every residence I have lived since that time. It now hangs above my fireplace and is one of the first things people notice when they enter my home. To me the portrait symbolizes all the great blessings God has bestoyed upon me in life, continual protection, and a constant reminder that Jesus is the head of my surroundings and life.

My Sallman goes back to my early childhood. Growing up, my sister, brother, and I only had to walk into the hall of our house to find Jesus. Our mother loved the picture of the Head of Christ. Every time we moved, the picture went with us and hung once again in the hall. Over the course of time, the picture aged and began to fall apart. The picture did not make the final move to Mom’s new house. On January 4, 2010, Mom passed away. At the funeral home we were looking at the various prayer cards. My brother said, “Well, there is Jesus down the hall.” My sister began to laugh, but I did not get the joke. My brother and sister had given the picture the name, “Jesus down the hall.” We chose that for the cards. The day of the visitation at the funeral home, I went early to drop some items off and walked into the room, and hanging there above my mother was the picture she so dearly loved, the Head of Christ, or “Jesus down the Hall.” The comfort the picture provided was amazing.

Our family, from Philadelphia, have always enjoyed the paintings of Warner Sallman. So, when this experience happened to me in 2000 I was thrilled: While attending a men’s Bible study in Sarasota, Florida, a man approached me after the study ended. He handed the famous Head of Christ pocket-sized photo to me and said, “My father painted this.” I was speechless, as I had met the son of Warner, Jim Sallman. This was a special moment in time for me.

The Lutheran church I grew up has the painting Christ at Heart’s Door in a prominent place in the foyer of their fellowship hall. It’s been there for about 50 years. I remember when I was a child the minister explaining the story and pointing out that there was no doorknob, since Jesus would not come in to your heart uninvited. As an artist and Christian today I will always remember this painting. I came to have a personal relationship with the Lord in college, and I can attribute it to the early experiences, like this painting, that planted seeds in my life.

I have wonderful memories of the very large original painting Head of Christ, as it was prominently hung in the sanctuary (above where the choir was seated) of the church that my family attended when I was growing up in the 1950’s and ’60s (Edgewater Covenant, at the corner of Bryn Mawr & Glenwood Avenues in Chicago, in what was at that time a Swedish neighborhood). It was so nice to be able to gaze up at that beautiful painting during the Sunday services!

Warner Sallman was a member of our congregation, and as I recall, every Easter he would make a beautiful chalk drawing in front of the congregation, surrounded by potted Easter lilies, while we listened to a lovely presentation of spiritual music.

One year when I was little, Mr. Sallman personally presented each of us children in the Sunday School of our church with a beautifully framed copy of one of his paintings. I was very honored to shake his hand when he gave me the painting, which I still have and treasure to this day.