The Man on the Wall
The Man on the Wall
Olin and Ethel Sisco, my grandparent’s white farmhouse with the wrap around porch had a formal parlor reserved to entertain special guests. The focal point of the room was a fancy blue flock patterned couch with carved lions paw feet. Grandchildren were only allowed in there on special occasions and holidays until they purchased their first black & white television. The TV was placed diagonally in the northeast corner of the room for the greatest visibility regardless of where one sat. Since they lived in rural Hallstead, Pennsylvania the TV only received two channels. If the rabbit ear antenna was held in just the right direction and at the right height, a grainy third channel from nearby Binghamton, NY could be picked up. The vertical hold was at times a problem.
A sepia toned hand colored photo of a man in a train conductor uniform had always hung on the east wall of the parlor. On the same wall hung a picture of Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. A gift to Olin and Ethel’s daughter Dorotha (Sisco)Thomas from her Sunday school class upon moving to the country.
We would ask who the man on the wall was and were told he was our grandmother’s father but the answer never really resonated. As we grew older and asked for the millionth time, we started to cobble together all the answers about the man and how he died. He was in a train wreck. His funeral and casket were in the same parlor in which we sat. Yikes! He was transporting German prisoners of war. A sheet of glass was placed over his open casket to keep the stench of death from permeating through the room. The pieces of stories sounded more like a horror movie than reality.
As an adult I gained an interest in genealogy and was curious as to the real story of my great grandfather James Nathaniel Banker. I interviewed James granddaughter Dorotha (Sisco) Thomas and researched ICC reports and other documents to get to the truth. I invite you now to get to know the story of the “man on the wall.”