My Story #28:

 

My Story #28:

When I first went to Lexington, Kentucky, in 1962, after graduating from high school at 17 years old, I began classes at Fugazzi Business College, where I completed a comprehensive study in about 15 months (equivalent to an associate degree). While there, I began to attend Ashland Avenue Baptist Church.

I had to walk to school many city blocks every day and had no other transportation. After I graduated from Fugazzi, I went to work at First National Bank and Trust Company in Lexington. Before I could drive, I had to borrow money from the bank (which I did) and purchase a car. Then I had to obtain my driver's permit. The car dealer brought the car to the house where I lived and parked it there.

Having to use hand controls to drive, I drew out on paper what I thought would be a good strategy to build a hand control for the car. I took it to a machine shop in town and asked them about making the hand controls. They changed a thing or two and built the hand controls. I remember the cost on the bill was: "parts = $5.00" and "labor = $40.00. That was a complete week's paycheck.

When I got my permit, I had to drive with a licensed driver; and I had met a 16-year-old boy across the street from my house who had just received his driver's license. I asked him if he would go with me to drive, and he was crazy enough to say "yes." I started driving and drove directly into downtown Lexington. My landlady had told me to "just stay between the white lines." That helped, not that I did not already know that.

In a week or two, I went to the courthouse to take my driver's test. The policeman who got in the car with me was shocked to see the hand control and asked me if I had power steering and breaks. When I said "no," he said "Well, I don't know about this." Neither did I. When we had completed the 30-minute test, he said, "That beats all I've ever seen." I got my license. This changed my whole life. My own mother had to write me a letter and ask me, "Are you ever going to come home and see us?" (We did not have cell phones then, and her call to me would have been long distance with a charge). Then I had to be sure to go home more often to satisfy my family. By this time I was acclimated to the Lexington area, and my life went on from there.

 

My Story #27:

 

My Story #27:

The first group of what are called The Bluegrass Boys organized in 1962 was made up of Bob Jones, Ed Kittle, Larry Robbins, and Warren Hartman. I heard them sing in my early years in Lexington, Kentucky, and they were great singers.

In 1963, after the first group disbanded, Bro. Bob Jones got together another group, which includes myself, Bro. Carl Morton, and Bro. Bobby Lakes. We have sung together for over 50 years and have had a great ministry, seeing many saved, enjoying fellowship in great conferences and revival meetings, seeing young men surrender to the ministry and to the mission fields of the world along with many other blessings. God has been so good to bless our ministry. We still sing together from time to time and praise the Lord for his great mercy upon us. We are in pretty good health, for which we are SO thankful to God.

We represented a wonderful school known as Lexington Baptist College. Many of you know about it. We had some exceptional teachers and learned much from their knowledge and wisdom.

Bro. Carl Morton reminded me yesterday, as I talked with him on the phone, of the Sunday when our pastor, Bro. Clarence Walker, told the whole church that "little Ronnie Wolfe" quit his good-paying job at the First National Bank in Lexington to come and work for the school and travel with the Bluegrass Boys. Bro. Walker had no idea how much money I made at the bank. If I had told him, he probably would have fainted, and not because it was much money but that it was so little money.

 

A Saint Patrick's Day Poem

 


    A Saint Patrick’s Day Poem
        By Ronnie W. Wolfe – March 17, 2021

Just beyond the clouds where future rainbows grow,
There is a mystery where the minds of men are sure to go.
It tells of little leprechauns and clovers, leaves of four
And takes our thoughts to where we’ve never been before.

Our hearts are swathed with verdure color stained with Irish pride
As green as pastures beautiful on hills of fertile wide.
Saint Patrick stands in fertile mind as saint whose asps are gone,
Saint Patrick in his Baptist faith made Ireland his home.

He brushed aside all foreign faith to preach his worthy trust,
And lived his saintly life amidst the worldly lust.
At sixteen found his God a must and trusted heart and mind
And gave his life to gospel preach to the men of every kind.

Through suffering flesh and wearied mind he fought the greatest fight.
Baptized thousands to Baptist faith, took Ireland by flight.
Rigid days and lonely nights brought Patrick to the book.
He prayed so many prayers by day, by night to prayer he took.

No rainbow with its pot of gold excited Patrick’s life.
He gave his work to his own Lord and worried not for strife.
He preached the Bible clear and plain, obtained no other power,
And neither stronger arm nor voice could make his witness cower.

So stands this noted, Baptist man, from generations gone.
He stands as witness to the truth but neither stands alone.
Others followed his true course to a world of sinners grand,
Who brought the word here to our shores, this gospel-needing land.

My Story #26:

 

Ronnie W. Wolfe

In the early years of traveling with the Bluegrass Boys, we endured some pretty hard times, though they were joyous and spiritually vitalizing.

In those days we were not put into motels to sleep often; and, when we were, there were two full beds, and we had to sleep two to a bed. I always awoke earlier than the other boys, and they would get aggravated with me for getting up so early and waking them up when I put the braces on my legs. So, I would leave the room and go either outside or into the dining area until they woke up. They slept late, because many times we would stay up and talk with preachers and friends to the wee hours of the morning.

Also, I remember once going to the Ohio State Penitentiary. The temperature must have been -10f, and the wind was blowing hard. We had a long walk from the car to the front door, and we nearly froze to death. That certainly will put a memory in your mind not easily forgotten.

I remember, also, walking in deep mud to go to a mission point in an out-of-the-way place. Those were the days.

But it was all worth the effort and the obstacles, because God always blessed, and we saw some really blessed revivals back then. May God receive the glory!

 

My Story #25:

 

Ronnie W. Wolfe

In the spring of 1967, Bro. Demas Brubaker and Bro. Robert Carpenter graduated from Lexington Baptist College and left the quartet without two singers. In searching for some men to take their place, Bro. Bob Jones found Bro. Carl Morton and Bro. Bobby Lakes, who had been singing together in a trio. These two men became a real blessing to our quartet, and we have continued to sing throughout these last 54 years.

We have seen great revivals, many saved, and some men called to preach. Our ministry has been a great blessing, not only to those who listened to us sing and preach but also to ourselves in a way of personal revival and encouragement.

We still sing from time to time and enjoy our fellowship together and our singing together to the glory of the Lord.

 

My Story #24:

 

Ronnie Wolfe

As I sat in the pew at Ashland Avenue Baptist Church one Sunday after Bro. Clarence Walker was no longer pastor and Bro. Ross Range was pastor, I listened as Bro. Rosco Brong preached a message entitled "Moses, thy servant, is dead." He was speaking to those who wanted Bro. Range to be and do as Bro. Walker did things, but Bro. Brong reminded the people that Bro. Walker is no longer the pastor and that the people should now follow the leadership of Bro. Range.

This was very good advice; and, although we missed Bro. Walker greatly, we learned to love and appreciate Bro. Ross Range as well. He was a good pastor to this memorable