In 1971, a six-year-old girl in the Bronx discovers a glowing cross in her bathroom window, igniting awe and doubt across her community. Fifty years later, she returns to confront the mystery that shaped her faith—and her understanding of miracles.

The Sight Unseen is a hybrid film revisiting the miraculous events of 1971 in the Bronx, when six-year-old Sharon Wilson discovered a glowing cross in her apartment bathroom window—a phenomenon that drew crowds from across the community and became a moment of collective awe and curiosity. Now, more than five decades later, Sharon reflects on her vivid memories, interwoven with the reporting of Amsterdam News journalist Melvin Tapley, who documented the story at the time. Through reenactments, archival research, and Sharon’s voice, the film constructs an evocative portrait of faith and uncertainty, illuminating how extraordinary histories survive even as those who lived them pass on.

Subtitles Available: English, Spanish, French and Chinese

Director Biography - Shawn Antoine II

Shawn Antoine II is a documentary and experimental filmmaker whose work centers on memory, identity, and the preservation of underrepresented Black histories. Raised in Harlem, Shawn draws deeply from his personal experiences and cultural heritage to tell stories that amplify voices often overlooked in mainstream media.

He earned his Master’s degree from Northwestern University’s Documentary Media program and taught Introduction to Film Production to undergraduates there for two years, sharing his knowledge in editing, lighting, and cinematography. Shawn’s approach blends archival research, personal narrative, and innovative storytelling techniques to explore themes of spirituality, family legacy, and community resilience.

His industry experience includes assisting producers and directors on major projects such as The Penguin (HBO Max), The Blacklist (NBC), and Really Love (Netflix). Shawn’s own films have screened at prestigious venues and festivals including Lincoln Center, DOC NYC, FOX Soul, Google, the Gene Siskel Film Center, the St. Louis International Film Festival, the San Diego Film Festival, and the Pan African Film Festival.

Notable works include Kingdome, chronicling Harlem’s iconic basketball tournament; For Those That Lived There, exploring urban histories and memory; Showtime, a portrait of cultural performance; and most recently The Sight Unseen, a hybrid documentary about a miraculous family event in 1971 Bronx, blending archival materials with experimental re-creations.

Shawn’s work fosters dialogue on cultural preservation and Black narratives, striving to honor the past while inspiring future generations.

Director Statement

When I began The Sight Unseen, I imagined a 1970s world—one shaped by the cinematic language of Medium Cool, Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song, Shaft, and so many other films that have inspired me. But most of all, I was inspired by the chance to build a story rooted in my family’s truths.

So much of Black history was never formally documented, and if we only rely on archives, many of our stories will never be told. That’s why oral history, memory, and reimagination are so vital. Through film, we can preserve what might otherwise be lost.

Documentary film, I believe, is standing at the edge of transformation. It no longer has to be confined to convention—it can bend, shift, and reinvent itself to tell the stories that have been left out. The Sight Unseen is my way of pushing at those boundaries.

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In 2016, I sat beside my great-aunt Sarah in her hospital room in Reidsville, North Carolina, when she told me a story I had never heard. She described how, in 1971, a glowing cross appeared in the bathroom window of my mother’s Bronx apartment. My mother was just a child then, and neighbors called her a miracle. I sat there stunned—my mom had never spoken of this to me. In that moment, I realized how easily extraordinary histories slip away between generations.

Years later, while pursuing my MFA in Documentary Media at Northwestern University, I decided this story would become my thesis film. That choice set me on a journey across the country, interviewing relatives and community members to recover their memories of the cross. Many witnesses had already passed, but those still alive carried sharp, vivid recollections—of awe, fear, skepticism, and belief. Their testimonies felt like fragile inheritances I needed to preserve before they disappeared.

The archives became my second home. The New York Times had dismissed the event as hoax, but at the Schomburg Center I uncovered Melvin Tapley’s Amsterdam News coverage—complete with a photograph of my mother, grandmother, and aunt. Unlike the Times, Tapley resisted erasure. His reporting held the story in all its ambiguity, refusing to resolve what could not be explained. Finding that article felt like reclaiming a piece of my family’s soul.

Just before production began, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I thought the film might never happen. But instead of retreating, she stepped forward—helping shape the script, co-directing scenes, and unlocking memories she had hidden for decades. Her determination became the film’s heartbeat.

To tell this story, I turned to Saidiya Hartman’s practice of speculative history. Drawing on oral testimony and fragments of memory, I reconstructed how neighbors might have reacted to the cross. These imagined moments—grounded in fact but alive with invention—blurred the line between record and remembrance, opening space where history and imagination could coexist.

It was in the editing process, surrounded by hours of testimony and archival fragments, that I met filmmaker James Benning. He told me, “Be radical in the process.” His words gave me permission to abandon the rigid boundaries of documentary form and pursue what felt truest for me and my family. I began to see that documentary cannot be boxed in—it must hold both the visible and the invisible, the factual and the felt.

We filmed in Harlem—at the Martin Luther King Jr. Houses, where echoes of community remain, and inside the Amsterdam News newsroom, at the very desk where Tapley worked for over fifty years. Sitting there, I felt both the weight of history and the urgency of responsibility.

With the support of more than 300 backers across the country, we raised $25,000 in one month. Local businesses donated food and space, and a Harlem-based cast and crew helped bring the story to life.

For me, The Sight Unseen is more than a film. It is my mother’s courage, my great-aunt’s memory, Melvin Tapley’s reporting—and a testament to the unseen histories that live quietly in the shadows, waiting to be remembered.