People in my Neighborhood – Charles (Chuck) Kensinger

It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday

March 30, 2026

Of course, I am speaking of AM. Billy Joel begins his song “Piano Man” with five o’clock on a Saturday, which is PM. He is speaking of the bar that he is playing at. He then describes the crowd that walks in, sits down, and has a few. The TV sitcom “Cheers” theme song was “Where Everybody Knows Your Name.”

I always thought that it was your local church. You can tell which one I go to more often. Nine o’clock on a Sunday refers to going to church. I would like to talk about some of the general types of characters that you might see on a Sunday morning.

We all know that the pastor will be there. When I am listing these descriptions of folks, your pastor or deacon, etc., may show up under these. Some of the members of the congregation at your church may overlap in these areas. They are all meant to be humorous and not insulting to anyone, even me.

Susy Sunshine is there every week with a smile on her face. She’s happy, and the other ladies wonder why. They think she must be drunk or on drugs to be that happy all the time. She’s just putting on a face because her husband just left her with two kids and took off with his secretary.

Nicholas Nobody walks in the door, and the greeter shakes his hand. He walks with his head down as no one speaks his name or says a word to him except for Jocular Jed. More on him later. He’s new and wonders if he should even have come.

The sports fanatic is there every week unless the football, hockey, baseball, lacrosse, or tidily wink match starts before church ends. They are there religiously when it does not interfere with these. Don’t worry, they will make up for the tithes they miss from their winnings in sports betting.

I already mentioned Jed, and I used the term jocular because he is the guy who always tells jokes. Some are funny, others are not. Part of them don’t even make sense. They all take too long to tell. At least Nicholas smiles at most of the things Jed tells him. Jed knows that most of the others think he’s foolish, and he considers himself a fool for Christ.

It’s time to think of the ones that are hiding under the pews. That’s right, the children. They crawl from the front to the back, looking for that squirrel that Ray Stevens sang the song about. They start out with mom and dad and sing all the songs that they know.

The teenagers are sitting somewhere. They may be scattered or in a group. If the church has a youth minister, he and his wife are close to this group. These are the future of the Church. They need love and encouragement.

There is one last group that should never be forgotten in the church. These are the older adults. We have been around for longer than any others. Some of us are grandparents or great-grandparents. We used to be the backbone of the body and are now viewed as the last generation.

Chicken Man, he’s everywhere

March 12, 2026

As the story was being told this morning at a Springfield business, it was reminiscent of the old radio program that was broadcast on KICK radio on 1340 on the AM dial here. It had a Christian twist to it.

The story takes place in a local long-term care facility. A friend’s wife is there for recuperation after surgery. As most patients do, she was craving outside food. Her husband, obligingly, delivered carryout chicken to her room one evening. A neighbor down the hall smelled the fried chicken and came to the room to ask to purchase a couple of pieces of the delightfully fragrant food. Hospital food smells, but not like that.

My friend continued to add extra chicken or other goodies to be sure there was extra for this lady. She gave him the name of Chicken Man. I asked if he was familiar with the radio program by that title. He was not originally from Springfield and had never heard of the show. I gave a brief description of it.

The point I want to make is that we can be kind and gracious to others in many ways. It does not take much to be a special person in the lives of folks that we encounter every day. They may need no more than a smile or a kind word.

Is this not what servanthood means? We are all told by Jesus to serve our neighbors. That’s what my friend did for the lady in the nursing home who was his wife’s friend. You should look around and see a need that you can supply. Be careful, though.

I read a story of a boy whose father was called to school for his bad behavior. This was unusual for this father. When he got there, he found out that his son had given half of the pizza he had bought for lunch to a friend who did not want the cheese sandwich he was offered. When he was caught doing this, his pizza was taken from him, and both were thrown away, and he was sent to the office.

Sounds stupid, doesn’t it? I think so, too. We should be teaching children to be helpful to each other, especially in our schools. There is no good reason for an adult disposing of a generous child’s lunch as punishment. This was posted on Facebook as a true story. Hopefully, that is some of the false news our President tells us about.

The story ended with the father paying the delinquent lunch account of the other student and encouraging others to do the same for those who might be having this type of problem at their schools. I know others who work in schools or have kids there who do the same thing when they hear of a situation where they can assist.

Why not become this kind of Chicken Man in one of the small ways that you can? The thing I remember most about this radio show was that they always said, “Chicken man, he’s everywhere, he’s everywhere.” I think we should all strive to be like my friend Chicken Man so that this slogan is once again true.

Mr. Green Jeans

January 29, 2026

He spent 29 years teaching children about kindness, patience, and gentleness.

Then he died.

And most people never even knew his real name.

To millions of children, he was simply Mr. Green Jeans.

His name was Hugh Brannum.

He was born on January 5, 1910, in Sandwich, Illinois. His parents expected him to become a lawyer. He did exactly that, earning a law degree and preparing for a respectable, predictable life.

Then Hugh picked up a bass.

Music pulled him away from courtrooms and contracts and into a life of sound, rhythm, and storytelling. Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, he toured with Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians, one of the most popular big bands in America. He wasn’t just technically skilled, he was warm, engaging, and gifted at connecting with people. Between songs, he told stories. He learned how to hold an audience without rushing them.

Radio followed. There, Hugh honed something even more important than performance: the ability to reach people gently, using only his voice. That quiet skill would become his greatest strength.

In the early 1950s, Hugh found himself in New York, just as television was being invented in real time. It was there he met Bob Keeshan, a young performer fresh off Howdy Doody, who was developing a radical idea for a children’s show.

Keeshan didn’t want noise.

He didn’t want chaos.

He wanted calm.

He envisioned a show that treated children with respect—one that moved slowly, spoke softly, and teaching without lecturing.

In 1955, CBS launched Captain Kangaroo.

Bob Keeshan became the captain—a gentle figure with a mustache and a jacket full of oversized pockets, living in a magical place called the Treasure House. But he needed someone else. Someone warm. Someone patient. Someone genuine.

He cast Hugh Brannum as Mr. Green Jeans.

The name came from the costume—green denim jeans and farmer’s overalls. But the character came from Hugh himself. Mr. Green Jeans was a farmer and handyman who lived nearby and visited often, bringing animals with him—rabbits, chickens, goats—and a quiet respect for the natural world.

He never rushed.

He never raised his voice.

He never talked down to children.

When he brought a rabbit, he showed children how to hold it gently. When he brought chickens, he explained where they lived and what they ate. He assumed children could understand if given time and patience.

That approach was revolutionary.

At a time when children’s television was loud, frantic, and filled with slapstick, Captain Kangaroo slowed everything down. There was room to wonder. Room to think. Room to learn.

And Mr. Green Jeans embodied that philosophy perfectly.

The show aired weekday mornings for nearly three decades—from 1955 to 1984—over 7,000 episodes. Entire generations grew up watching it. Parents who had once sat cross-legged in front of the television were now turning it on for their own children.

Behind the scenes, Hugh Brannum did far more than play Mr. Green Jeans. He performed multiple characters, contributed music, and served as the show’s musical backbone. His bass, his storytelling instincts, and his calm presence shaped the program’s soul.

Yet almost no one recognized him.

On the street, Hugh Brannum was invisible. Put him in overalls, though, and millions of children knew exactly who he was. And that was enough for him.

He never sought celebrity. He understood that Mr. Green Jeans wasn’t about being known, it was about being useful. About offering children a steady, kind presence in a world that often moved too fast.

In the early 1980s, as his health declined, Hugh retired. He played Mr. Green Jeans for 29 years—one of the longest-running characters in television history. The show continued briefly without him, but something essential was gone.

On April 19, 1987, Hugh Brannum died at age 77.

His obituary identified him simply as the man who played Mr. Green Jeans.

And suddenly, millions of adults realized something startling:

Mr. Green Jeans had helped raise them.

Not with speeches.

Not with discipline.

But with gentleness.

He showed generations of children that strength could be quiet. That knowledge was meant to be shared. Those animals deserved care. That patience mattered.

These weren’t flashy lessons. They weren’t dramatic. But they were foundational—the kind that shape who a person becomes.

Hugh Brannum had a law degree. He toured with famous musicians. He worked in radio and television. He lived a full, accomplished life.

But for nearly three decades, he chose to be Mr. Green Jeans.

And because of that choice, millions of people grew up a little kinder, a little more patient, and a little more curious about the world.

Most people never knew his name.

But they knew his example.

Hugh Brannum died in 1987.

Mr. Green Jeans lives on—in memory, in gentleness, in the quiet lessons that never needed applause.

That is not just a television legacy.

That is a moral education delivered so softly it felt like love.

Remember him. He earned it.

Once again, I took this from Facebook, and it was not credited. If it is yours, I will reassign the copyright. I grew up with the Captain, Mr. Green Jeans, and the entire cast. Thank you to whoever wrote this.

Welcome home Gary

January 21, 2026

I first met Gary about fifty-three years ago. I know that because I had not met my wife yet. I was introduced to her fifty-two years ago. Don and I traveled to Hamlin Memorial Baptist Church from Immanuel, where we went. We had been called to restart the Royal Ambassador program there.

Gary, the associational R.A. director, asked us to visit them on Wednesday evening. In the summer, I volunteered to be a counselor at Baptist Hill, which is important to him. He also called me, and I scheduled a practice game for the Immanuel women’s softball team I led and the Hamlin team he coached.

I began to see him often after Cindy, and I started dating. He and Geri were at our wedding, which was held at Cindy’s church, Hamlin. Gary was our class leader when we visited on weekends while we lived in Joplin. After we moved back to Springfield, he was our young married class leader until I began teaching.

Gary was a deacon, and he and his wife were involved in many events where the Deacon Body led the church. I joined his R.A. staff and worked closely with him, and later became the R.A. Director when he moved on to other ministries.

I took some advice from him and took a week of vacation from work each summer to lead Vacation Bible School. He was working with younger people to teach them to become the leaders that they are today. When his kids were in the children’s and youth groups, I was one of their teachers.

One Sunday, when Ryan, his son, was in my seventh and eighth grade class, we had an impromptu discussion of sex. Our lessons had an annual discussion on this subject. That morning, I answered questions that the boys had. I ended the class with a warning to them to tell their parents that we discussed chocolate, if they were asked.

That evening at church, Gary confronted me and wanted to know what his son meant when he told him our lesson was on chocolate. I explained a story I had used to teach the young men on the correct approach to sex. Some of those men remember that discussion; others do not. I often would use this code word to alert Gary when I was broaching this subject with a group.

Gary and I continued to work together as Deacons and leaders at Hamlin until they moved to another church, and he continued to be the same man who had taught me how to be a better minister and father. Gary’s life was not as easy as mine had been. He had served in Vietnam and experienced situations I never had.

Gary and Geri’s son and daughter know more about the trials that he experienced. I witnessed his anger on a few occasions and tried to understand because I also have issues with anger. Most of us do at times. Like all of us, we are not perfect.

Gary knew that he was not without sin. He taught his children and I that, despite our sinful state, Jesus could be our savior and Lord. Because he knew this, when his earthly body died, his soul and spirit went home. He was welcomed there as we who have accepted Jesus will be.

Cost of Living

November 20, 2025

Are you looking to relocate to a place where the cost of living is relatively low? Have I got a deal for you? Come home to Springfield, Missouri. Yes, I said, come home. I have lived here for most of my life. We moved to Joplin early in our marriage. We came home as soon as we could.

I think that 15.5% below the national average for cost of living would be good. You must understand that for most of us, we consider our wages low. Our average housing cost is 15.7% below the national average. I’m not bragging, I am stating facts from Google’s AI answer to my search. Look for yourself.

We are the third-largest city in Missouri and the largest Springfield among thirty-six in the country. Once again, if you don’t believe me, check the last census numbers. I looked it up myself because people who have never heard of us can’t believe it. Is it my fault you’ve been living under a rock your whole life?

Businessinsider.com put us thirty-two in their top 32 largest midwestern cities. We don’t have to be number one; we just try harder. Our public school system is the largest district in Missouri. We have five high schools, and if you don’t like public schools, we have almost every type of private school you might want.

Our technical college is one of the best, and they have several campuses in our outlying area. We have three major universities and numerous other types of higher private education facilities. Do you want to learn non-traditional skills? We do that as well.

Do you want rural or suburban living? We have a lot of that? Farmland is close, and you can even buy eggs and milk from the producers. There are almost as many small towns and villages close to Springfield as you will find in any city of our size. We have lots of bars and churches when you need to go to a place where everybody knows your name.

What about the opera, stage plays, symphony, and other cultural activities? We have you covered there as well. Our airport is not one of the major international hubs. We have connecting flights to most of the busiest, if you really like long lines.

We have two cab companies, and most of the internet services for moving people and goods. Oh, I forgot to mention shopping. If our mall isn’t large enough for you, there are half a dozen more within a fifty-minute drive of my house. I’ve driven longer than that in St. Louis or Kansas City to get to the good shopping once I got to those cities.

The construction industry seems to be having a heyday with homes and businesses, especially car washes and some of the most popular franchise fast food restaurants. Google your favorite and see if we have one or will next week.

We are the home of Bass Pro Shops, General Council of the Assemblies of God, Convoy of Hope, and Springfield-style Cashew Chicken. You don’t know about our own knock-off offering of a favorite oriental dish? You’ve had nothing like it.

I could go on for hours, but I’ll end with this. If you would like to go to Branson, MO, for the music shows or drive Historic Route 66 from Chicago to LA, we are on your way, and you can check us out the next time you pass through. You’ve probably been within fifty miles of us and never noticed the highway signs. The group Buffalo Springfield came through in the sixties and got their name from one of our signs. We hope to see you soon.

See ya’ later, Calvin

November 16, 2025

Our long-time pastor and friend, Calvin Maberry, is now home with Jesus. He left his earth suit and went home on Friday morning. If you do not know this man of God, let me tell you about him.

I met him the first time I went to Hamlin Church with Cindy. She was raised in that congregation, and he and his wife, Arlene, had worked with the youth and became their pastor a few years before. I instantly liked Calvin and Arlene, even if she told me I better not hurt my new girlfriend.

Their family lived outside of Willard, MO, and their three kids were Cindy’s friends. My future wife was a fifteen-year-old, and Arlene was her Sunday School teacher. This may be the reason that I was given the warning. I was a junior in college at the time.

Calvin became a mentor to me as I negotiated my way through college as a ministerial student. They were at our wedding and supported us for the last fifty-plus years as we attended many classes that they were part of.

My first opportunity to officiate at a wedding took place while we were living in Joplin, MO. Calvin advised me on common ceremonies and problems I might have. The pastor of the bride was not someone I knew, and I felt more comfortable with Brother Maberry than our pastor in Joplin.

Years later, when I was asked to officiate at my first funeral, Pastor Calvin was there for me as well. He gave me some sage advice that I have heard from him often. Follow what you believe the Lord wants you to do, and follow what the family asks you to do. Other ministers I knew told me before other funerals what were different opinions of what should be done.

When Calvin decided to announce his retirement as our pastor, we spoke about it before it was announced to the church. I was the Chairman of the Deacon body and would be responsible for helping that group lead the congregation through the transition period.

I was the one who asked him to allow the church to bestow the title of Pastor Emeritus on him when we celebrated his term as our under shepherd. I felt like I was fighting an uphill battle to convince him to accept that honor. Life at the church changed a great deal after that.

For a few years, we saw him and Arlene occasionally at church, but bumped into them at many other places. They always asked how we were getting along and how the girls were. They were always the adoptive grandparents to the kids at Hamlin.

When Arlene was fighting the Illness that ultimately took her life, Calvin was scheduled for bypass surgery. I had just gone through that operation and tried to encourage him that it was difficult, but the Lord would see him through it. I remember that he told me that if it were not for Arlene needing him, he would not have had the surgery. He was ready to go home.

Now that he is there with her, his savior and Lord, and all those that still call him pastor Calvin and friend, I am continuing to look forward to the day that Christ says welcome home to me as well. I know that we are there together, even though some do not realize it, yet.

Richard Thomas

September 13, 2025

Do you remember this actor? The first time I saw him was when he first appeared in “The Homecoming.” This was the movie pilot for “The Waltons” TV series. Thomas played the part of John-Boy. I bring him up because he is coming to Springfield, MO as Mark Twain in “Mark Twain Tonight.”

September seventeenth is the date for the performance at The Hammons Hall for the Performing Arts at Missouri State University. If you are not familiar with “Mark Twain Tonight” it was written by Hal Holbrook. He was the only one who portrayed Mister Twain in this one-man show. Until now.

Thomas has been cast to perform this one man play. He appears as Samuel Langhorn Clemens also known as author, speaker, and humorist Mark Twain. Twain is one of my favorite authors. His story telling style was unique and is now widely imitated.

Hal Holbrook brought Twain to life for us in the twentieth century and now Richard is doing the same thing through the collection of Twain’s own words that Holbrook wrote into his show. His humor is often caustic and satirical. Our new generations love that.

The Twain costume is hilarious. We see a man whose appearance was never perfect. An actor must work hard to appear this disheveled on stage. It fits the character, who was a real man. We need to emulate Uncle Sam in this manner. Maybe not in everything he did.

Thomas’s acting career began in 1956 on “As the World Turns” and “The Guiding Light.” He was five at the time. He was on another soap opera called “From These Roots” starting at that time until he was ten when this live series was ended. In 1964 to 1965 he was on another soap called “A Flame in the Wind.”

Until 1971 when he scored the roll of John Boy in the Waltons pilot movie “The Homecoming” he had guest roles on several prime-time series. His big break began the following year and lasted until 1978 when his career took him to other projects.

Some of my other favorite appearances he was in during this time were “Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus,” “The Christmas Box,” “The Christmas Secret,” three Walton TV-Movies where he reprised his role as John-Boy, and two other Walton movies where he narrated the films as the same character.

Movies and other guest spots on TV kept him busy between his plays and other acting opportunities. He has narrated over 300 audio books. His talents are recognized around the world.

We will welcome him to the Ozarks this month and hope that he can check out some of our sights. As with most celebrities, he probably will not have the time, especially with appearances on local media programs to promote his play. Welcome to Springfield, Mr. Thomas.

Happy Birthday, Gary

August 12, 2025

Old friends are a treasure that some do not have in abundance. I am not one of those. In the 1960’s we lived on Nichols Street. The house sat on one lot, and the lot next door on the corner of Warren Ave. also belonged to Dad and Mom. To the east on Nichols was Rick. Rob lived on West Ave. Frank and Gary lived north on Warren. I’ve lost track of all of them except for the last. Over the last several years, I have tried to call him on his birthday. This year, I am going to write about some of our joint experiences.

I could call him a hand-me-down friend, but I prefer the terms longtime family friend or brother from a different mother. Gary started school at York Elementary, the same year my brother Sam did. Four years later, when I began my education there, they did not want a kid like me hanging around. When my brother graduated from high school and joined the Navy, the process of being a family friend had already started.

We attended the same church, and when I was in the Youth group, he was in High School and graduated the year I finished Junior High. He took a year away from SMSU and his degree to join the National Guard to begin his military career. He returned as a part-time student and was there when my college career began four years after he started.

Lunch at the cafeteria, or Bear’s Den, bowling, and pinball games at the campus union solidified this friendship between my brother Bud, Gary, and me. If it had not been for him bringing the new pastor at church to meet me and invite me to a group for college students, I might not have been called and accepted my call to ministry. Because of that, I left SMSU and transferred to Southwest Baptist College.

As a side note, Gary’s first nephew was born on my sixteenth birthday, the day before his. I don’t know if I have been forgiven for the ribbing I gave him about that. He may not know it, but one of my daughters was born in August. Fortunately, she came before either of our birthdays. I was glad because I didn’t want the teasing I gave him.

Gary graduated and was promoted and moved by the company he worked for. We saw each other briefly at Christmas. When Sam went back to the Navy, he drove to visit Gary up north and through Pennsylvania to see me where I was pastoring a church that summer, and then down to his duty station in Florida.

The next phase of our relationship was when he returned to Springfield and began working where Cindy, my wife, worked. I remember the night he came by our house and told us he had been terminated. That was when he started dating his future wife, who also worked there.

He raised his family, and I mine these last forty years, and we have talked from time to time. Some special occasions brought us together. Birthdays, anniversaries, funerals, and even the occasional Walmart trips meant short or protracted conversations.

He is still employed, unlike Cindy and I. From time to time, I visit him at work, as I did when I was working, and he is someone I can confide in and share memories with him that no one else knows about.

We can truly be called old friends in more ways than one. This is my way of saying, Happy Birthday to you, my dear friend. And many more.

Warriors of the past

May 25, 2025

Memorial Day is traditionally a day when those in the United States and especially Springfield Christians remember ones who have died. As thoughts of friends and family have flowed there are some that should be shared with you. When you read these words, ponder on those you have lost that bring back similar memories.

Mom and Dad were the type of parents who took their children to Sunday School and church every week when they were young. As teenagers they allowed them to choose a different church to attend despite their moving to another congregation. Prayer was always one of Mom’s methods of ministry. Dad served in more practical ways as a bus driver. This tradition of service has made their son who he is today.

Everett Long and Lester Stratton were two teachers who demonstrated how to lead young men to become the men they were called to be. Lester was in his sixties and retired at the time. He was the oldest high school student your writer ever met. He was a mentor and a friend to his classmates.

Everett was the teacher who made us question our own salvation experiences when he made a public profession of faith while teaching Sunday School and being an ordained Deacon in the church. At his baptism, many admired him for his bravery to openly admit he had been playing church all his adult life.

Brother Maples, the elderly minister encouraged the young preacher boy with the comment that he did not feel like he had been in church if he did not have to shine his shoes when he got home. The ministers’ job is a rough one and Allen knew that from his years in the pulpit. He is also the one who first used the phrase, “It’s a good day when you can sit up and take solid nourishment.

Vern is another friend who has gone home to be with the Lord. When asked to teach a senior adult men’s class years ago, thoughts of being with men twice my age and trying to lead them in Bible study were troubling. With Vern’s encouragement, it was possible. That became an experience that will never be forgotten.

My friend from high school, Mark, was another hero of faith. Instead of being depressed after a stroke, heart attacks, and eventually having his aorta explode while having an angiogram, he accepted a call to the ministry while in his sixties. He became our church’s senior adult minister as a volunteer. When he went home to Jesus, we all wept and rejoiced.

As we pause on this Memorial Day, remember those who have been in your life. I could spend hours telling you stories of others that have meant a great deal in my life. Keep tuned to this site to hear more of these as the years proceed. If you want to share a story of your own, post it in the comments below.

Welcome home, Carl

May 18, 2025

Some of you would say that you lost another friend. Carl is not lost. He hasn’t been lost since he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior around the time I was born. I know he is in the presence of God which we often refer to as Heaven.

Carl and I had many conversations about Jesus and Heaven over the forty plus years that we have known each other. I met him when I joined Hamlin Memorial Baptist Church. He was our deacon for years.

He recruited me to lead Church Training classes and recommended me for the position when he stepped down. We served on the BTN committee at church for its short-lived tour. The Greene County Baptist Association joined this organization which provided training materials to churches and associations.

He was my mentor in the deacon ministry when I was first ordained. A few years later when he was the chairman of the deacon body, he asked me to be the assistant chairman. This meant I would be the next chairman. Thanks to Carl I got the pleasure of leading the congregation during the retirement of our friend and pastor.

His son Greg worked for my wife before she had our first daughter. Carl and Harriett became surrogate grandparents for our children when we moved into their neighborhood. For almost twenty years we remained neighbors and would visit them while Harriett was homebound.

As our deacon he joined me in the waiting room when Cindy had surgeries. We ministered together with the other deacons and leaders in the church. The stories I remember are too numerous to recount here. I’ll share one that very few know about.

Greg was working in Kansas City when a walkway collapsed at the hotel where he was employed. It was a story that hit our local news. We called Carl and Harriett and asked if they had heard from their son. They had a call from him. He was fine.

While they were dealing with Harriett’s health issues, I was often his sounding board. We did not live far from each other and before Carl had to stay home with her, I saw him at church every week. We had an agreement that nothing we said to each other would ever be repeated.

I used to say that I would see friends in Heaven when I arrived there some day. Today Jesus’ words have led me to believe that we are already there. It is not like we drop into God’s presence when we accept Christ. Being outside of time, He has us with Him even before our death on this planet. I know that sounds strange. Trust Him and you are with those you love who trust Him as well.

Charles (Chuck) Kensinger

Walk With a Servant

Category: People in my Neighborhood