Charles (Chuck) Kensinger

I began in ‘Fifty Years Ago’ by telling you about where I was in 1975. I found myself in the city of Gifford, Pennsylvania. I was serving as a summer missionary and had a family for the summer that was not my birth family. I told you about Phil, Marriane, and Mary Anne. Let me tell you about the rest of the family.

Down the road lived Skip, also known as Phil, Jr., and his wife and children. Somewhat further away was David, his wife, and their child. I could walk to these two homes from the old house where I was staying. Phil and Marianne had moved into a house that was scheduled for demolition, rather than building a new house on the family property, as their two sons had done.

Also on the property was a mobile sanctuary for Hilltop Baptist Chapel. It was a modified trailer house provided by the Southern Baptist Home Mission Board. That summer, I learned a great deal about what HMB did for the ministries that were under their auspices.

The pastor at Bolivar Road Baptist in Bradford served at Hilltop as well as the home church. For that summer, he did not have to skip Sunday School to drive up the mountain to preach first, then back down for their services. I preached Sunday Mornings, led a Bible Study Sunday Night, and a prayer meeting on Wednesday night.

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Included in our ministries, mine and my fellow summer missionaries, were Vacation Bible School and revivals at these two churches, as well as two other churches that our youth groups went to for the summer months.

On Sunday Nights, I went to help the youth choir at Bolivar Road. The ladies were leading and joining the youth. I joined them as well. For the first week. The second week, I was asked to talk with the ladies before practice. They asked me not to sing with the choir. So, I helped off stage and behind the scenes. I have told people for fifty years that I am the only person I know who was asked to leave a youth choir.

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Fortunately, I already knew that I could not carry a tune in a bucket. I learned that in the sixth grade, our new music teacher took four of us aside for special training to help us sing on key. After six months, she gave up on two of us. She decided nothing she did would help us,

Back on the mountain, I would walk a trail into the trees whenever I had spare time. During the day, I took my Bible with me and would study where God was the only one to teach me. I’ve been letting Him do that for me for fifty years now.

At night, when I walked into the trees, I was careful to stay on the trail, only to go a few feet in. Having spent a lot of time on farms in Missouri, I was not your ordinary city boy. I have milked cows, plucked chickens, and picked many different fruits, vegetables, and berries. After the woods were engulfed in darkness, the stars shining through the trees were beautiful.

It is difficult to condense ten weeks into a couple of columns. Look for the true story of an Ozarks boy in the land of Yankees in the next report. See you then.

©Copyright 2025 by Charles Kensinger