Personal Stories

by Orlo Shroyer, April 20, 2010

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. (more…)

by Ken Larson, March 26, 2010

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.]

by Arthur E. Holmberg III, March 24, 2010

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.

by Peggy Bearce, March 22, 2010

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.

by Jennifer Stanley, Feb. 23, 2010

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.