Few men leave behind a legacy that can still be touched, admired, and cherished nearly a century later—but Burrell Francis Sisco did.
Burrell Francis Sisco was born on November 29, 1881, in Marion, Kentucky, the son of Lemuel Newton Sisco (1855–1940) and Drucella Francis Enoch (1860–1940). He was one of twelve children and grew up in a hardworking farming family. His life, however, would take him far beyond the fields of his Kentucky home.
Seeking adventure and opportunity, Sisco enlisted in the Army and served as an artillery gunner during the Spanish-American War. Stationed on the island of Jolo in the Philippines, he witnessed the dangers of battle firsthand. Pat Ross and Fran Snead of the Bassett Historical Center had more information on Mr. Sisco, including a letter that he had written to his father during his time in the Spanish-American War. https://www.bassetthistoricalcenter.com/get-history2.php?GetID=105
“Kind Father,
I will write to you today to let you know that I am well and alright; hope this to find you all well. I was very much surprised when our Captain handed me your letter you had written to him. I have been writing to you regular, guess my letters have been mislayed somewhere.
Well, I have never told you about the fights, but as you have read about them in the papers, I will relate them to you. We have had four fights since I came over here. The first fight we had was March 2. We were out marching when we came to a very narrow place in the road and before we knew anything, the bullets were flying every way. We were ambushed and surrounded; all we could do was to lay flat down and form a skirmish line. We kept up a heavy fire for about three hours and drove them back until we could retreat, but they would fire at us from up in the trees and behind rocks. We suffered awfully for want of water, for it was very hot. There was but one man killed, one wounded, and several horses injured. So, we retreated to Jolo. After that, every night the Moros would come and shoot into town, keeping up a continual disturbance. They killed the governor’s secretary and several Filipinos. Something had to be done. Anyway, Gen. Leonard A. Wood, who is in command of the island, came down with over one thousand soldiers and laid waste to the island.
The morning we left Jolo, there was a string of soldiers over a mile long—the Filipino scouts in front, then the infantry, followed by the battery, and finally the cavalry bringing up the rear guard with the pack trains and ammunition. That is the position we were marching.
We were about five miles from Jolo when all of a sudden we were again ambushed. Bullets sizzed over our heads like rain, but the battery was thrown into action and all the carbines pumping steel bullets. We drove them down a big slope and they melted like snow in summer. Nothing could be seen of them except where they hid behind trees, but our rifles would shoot through a thirty-six-inch tree and kill a man on the other side. The third fight we found them in rifle pits with a strong wall around them. We battered down their wall with cannons, then the sharpshooters poured in their “leaden hail.” The infantry went in after them, fighting hand to hand—our soldiers with bayonets, the Moros with spears and knives. There were sixteen killed and wounded, and one of my comrades was severely injured. It was terrible. We never took time to count the Moros that were killed; they lay in great piles. Then we burned every house and shot their animals, stole, killed, and ate their chickens and goats. It was a sight to see the destruction of property going up in flames. Everywhere you looked you could see the smoke of destruction.
As soon as the dead were buried and the wounded cared for, we set out again (we have good, gentle mules and we carry the wounded on a cot strapped to the mule’s back) after the fleeing Moros. We overtook them the next day, well-fortified behind another stone wall. After another severe fight, in which we had thirteen killed and wounded, the Moros were all killed. They fought until they were shot full of holes. That ended the fighting on the island of Jolo.
Well, I must tell you one more thing, then I will close. I have a special duty job now, working in the post exchange, get $10.80 extra per month. So, you see, I won’t have to drill or be on duty anymore, and I have better eating, now take my meals at the restaurant. I am very busy all the time; don’t have time to write except on Sundays. I am very proud of my position, almost forget I am a soldier. Everything in the Army is carried on like clockwork.
You spoke about how long I would have to stay over here, about fifteen months from the date of this letter. I will say to you that if anything happens to me, I should get killed or anything, you will be notified at once. But you need not bother about me now, for I will not go out in the field anymore. Everything is quiet over here now.
With compliments to Mamma and the babies, I close.
Burrell Sisco”
The following information was also provided from the History Corner by Pat Ross and Fran Snead of the Bassett Historical Center. “Mr. Sisco was honorably discharged from the Army on August 31, 1907. From 1908 to 1910, he attended Bowling Green University in Kentucky, graduating with a Bachelor of Commercial Science. He worked for the Anderson Lumber Company in Gideon, Missouri, and later for the U.S. Spruce Lumber Company in Marion, Virginia. At the onset of World War I, Sisco was elected captain of his hometown militia. Once again serving his country, he rose to the rank of first lieutenant and was stationed at Camp Humphreys.”
On February 13, 1926, Sisco married Lula “Hester” Tatum, daughter of Charles Davis Tatum and Nora Edna Koger of the Stella community. The couple made their home in Stuart, where their only child, Margaret Tatum Sisco, was born on January 12, 1929.
The family resided on Buena Vista Avenue, where their neighbors included Polo and Edith Anglin, Joe Francis, county game warden, and Jesse Flippin, car dealer. In census records of the 1930s and 1940s, Sisco listed his occupation as lumberman with the Ely Thomas Lumber Company. His knowledge of the timber trade and his keen eye for quality wood laid the groundwork for his next chapter.
According to Mr. Sisco’s obituary, in 1940, he opened his cabinet shop which was located below the road near the Stuart town limits and the Old Dominion Restaurant. Kenneth Hopkins would own the shop in much later years. Mr. Sisco soon became known up and down the east coast as the “Walnut King.”
Beyond his business, Sisco served his community as a member of the Stuart Town Council for fourteen years. He was also a devoted Mason for fifty years, reflecting his commitment to service in both public and private life. On June 13, 1972, Burrell Francis Sisco passed away at the age of ninety, leaving behind a legacy of craftsmanship and civic service.
Hester Tatum Sisco was equally devoted to her community. She served in leadership roles with the Women’s Missionary Society of Stuart Baptist Church, taught school in Patrick County, and was a charter member of the Colonel Abram Penn Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution. She passed away on October 3, 1976, and was laid to rest beside her husband in Stuart Cemetery.
Together, Burrell and Hester Sisco left a legacy of faith, service, and craftsmanship that continues to be remembered in Patrick County. Their daughter, Margaret Sisco Bowen passed away in June of this year at the age of 96.
Thank you to Pat Ross and Fran Snead at the Bassett Historical Center for their research on Burrell F. Sisco. For questions, comments, or ideas for stories, you may reach Woody at rockcastlecreek1@gmail.com or 276-692-9626.
