Wendy Bagwell – A Life of Godly Influence

Who? Never heard of her!

Wrong-o. Wendy was a guy. I know it’s an unusual name for a man, but there are others: Atlanta’s Kim Peterson, one of the funniest men to ever grace the radio; Virginia NAPA Store owner Bunny Tanner, a man’s man – trust me on that; Lynn Swann, one of the greatest receivers to ever wear an NFL Jersey.

And Wendy Bagwell. Maybe the greatest Christian entertainer of all time. He and his two-lady group, The Sunliters, were inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame in 2001. Wendy and the Sunliters travelled the world singing of Jesus, and Wendy told hilarious stories based upon the experiences the group had while touring. One story was about a performance in Harlan, Kentucky at a small church that handled rattlesnakes;

“If God ever told me to handle a rattlesnake, I would; but He didn’t, so I ain’t.”

I met Wendy – once. 1982. Portsmouth, Ohio. I knew nothing about him before I met him – nothing. So how could this man have such a profound influence over the rest of my life? Here’s the story –

Sunday Morning God Squad

I worked at a small radio station, WNXT AM & FM, in Portsmouth, Ohio from 1980-1983. Among the many duties assigned to me was what I called the Sunday Morning God Squad (SMGS). Sunday mornings I played gospel programs and music, and a couple of local preachers would come in and do live shows. Was I assigned the SMGS because I loved gospel music? No. Because I was saved? Far from it at the time. No – I was assigned this task – because I said, “Yeah, what the hell. I’ll do it.”

As a Catholic, I believed in God. But I was far from knowing Him on a personal level. Still, I developed quite a listenership on the SMGS. In every career, I have always done my best to please the customer – something to which I still aspire today. I tried to speak the language of a Christian. I read the Bible in preparation for my show, picking out a “Reading of the Week” to share with my audience. Choosing the music I was completely unfamiliar with was the easy part… I simply took requests. So maybe trying to keep my customer satisfied was why I got the phone call.

An Unusual Request for an Unsaved Catholic Kid

“Is this Steve Robinson? It is… good. My name is (the lady’s name, I don’t remember) and I listen to you every Sunday and LOVE the music you play. Wendy Bagwell is coming to our church to perform in concert and he asked us to find an emcee to introduce him. Could you do that for us, please?”

Are you kidding? This is a great promotional opportunity for me to get more listeners. So I accepted… and then tried to find out as much as I could about this Wendy Bagwell character. Found one record, gave it half a listen and then thought I knew enough.

To The Concert We Go… Uh-oh!

Concert night arrived. I was supposed to do five minutes of comedy and then introduce Wendy and the Sunliters… but there was one problem. Gasoline. My gas guzzler was on E, and I had about a buck-fifty on me. That was supposed to last three days, until Friday, when I received my next joke of a paycheck. Oh – and the concert is a volunteer job. Greeeatt! So I spent my last dime on a gallon of gas. The gauge barely moved above Empty. I would be able to make it to the church, and then part way back. I would have to hike the rest of the way. “God, You have led me into a miserable evening.”

Those Stuffy Christians

It was my view of Christians. Self-righteous, indignant, stuffy, holier-than-thou people. No matter. I still wanted them as listeners.

So I did my five minutes. The people politely laughed at my not-so-funny jokes. But then, I finally said something they wanted to hear, “Ladies and Gentlemen… Wendy Bagwell and the Sunliters!” Standing “O” and raucous applause. Apparently ol’ Mr. Bagwell was a lot more popular than I thought.

And then “ol’ Mr. Bagwell” proceeded to take us on an emotional roller coaster. Joyful, fun-filled songs; hymns from long ago; hilarious stories about rattlesnakes, squirrels and German poh-lice dogs. Then a sad song about Jesus dying on a cross for no other reason than His love for us. Wow, what a great night.

But now the concert is over. I think my car might make a couple of miles, but then… well, I was in pretty good shape then. Wendy Bagwell shook my hand and told me he enjoyed my jokes. It was a fifty-dollar handshake. 50 bucks! More money than I had seen at one time in years. Tears welled up in my eyes. I hugged the man. I was so wrong about these fun-loving, laughing people called Christians. Not only are they not stuffy, but now I wished I was one of them.

Four years later, back in my hometown of Cincinnati, I asked Jesus to come into my heart while I was at another Christian concert, this time featuring a group called 4 Him. If it hadn’t been for Wendy Bagwell changing my heart toward Christians, I probably would have never gone to the 4 Him concert and made that life-changing decision.

Full Circle

In 1996, Wendy died. I was saddened because I never got to thank him for that night – for forever helping to change my life. In 1997 I moved to Georgia, Wendy’s home state. A year later, I was invited to a concert by a friend of mine.

The “warm-up” act was a Christian comedienne named Wendy Lea, who mentioned during her act that she is the daughter of Wendy Bagwell. I was thrilled! As soon as her act was finished, I rushed to the lobby to find her.

I found Wendy Lea. With tears in my eyes I told her my story. We hugged each other and cried in honor of her father, a great man who had helped change a life. Wendy Lea told me that her “mama will love hearing this story” about her late husband.

My story had come full circle. In a way, I was finally able to thank Wendy Bagwell for being a positive influence who helped lead to a better life.

Don’t Wait!

If there is someone in your past that has helped change your life for the better, so everything in your power to find them, and if successful, explain to them the effect they had on your life. And then thank them. You’ll find that it will be one of the best experiences of your life.

Have you ever done anything like this? Please leave comments; I would love to hear your story.

“That is why you ALWAYS want to improve…”

I have been managing people since the age of 16. Okay-maybe I wasn’t actually managing at 16. But I was put in charge of a concession stand and….

I had a mentor.

Don Johns was a 40-ish Italian-American who worked for Cincinnati Concession Company, in charge of-I can’t remember maybe 40-50 concession stands located in Hamilton County, Ohio public parks. He hired me when I was 16-years-old. I couldn’t even serve beer at the time; one had to be 18 to do that.

Anyway, I started at the concession stand located at Winton Woods Golf Course. I had to open at 5 AM in order to start serving breakfast at 6. I should say that my mom taught me how to talk intelligently with adults; the Catholic nuns at my school and the Convent where I served mass taught me how to respect adults. So I was a natural when it came to talking with the golfers (many were people “of means”) and the Pro Shop employees, all of whom liked me. I guess this impressed Don, and he asked me if I thought I could run the concession stand. Are you kidding? I thought I had just been promoted to CEO!

Not only was I good at running the concession stand, but I was also half-good at working with the other employees. Whenever I made a mistake in either regard, Don would carefully instruct me on what to do better next time. I listened – and I learned. I worked summers – and eventually winters, too – for Don until I was 22-years old. He became a friend, father-figure and mentor. For six years, I looked forward to coming to work every day. He taught me more about managing people, attitudes, moods, PMS-ing girls, than any college course could have. I was eventually allowed to hire people-he trusted my judgment implicitly. He taught me the correct way to fire people.

When I turned 23, I told Don that I was ready to go to work again. He said, “Steve, you’re 23. You can’t work in concession stands the rest of your life. It’s time for you to move onto bigger and better things and start to improve your life over this crummy job.” Though I was almost devastated by those words, I later realized that this was consistent with Don’s teaching for the previous six years. I remember many, many times that we drove up the street called Clifton Avenue, through the housing projects, called “slums” back then. He grew up in these projects, he would tell me.

“See up there,” he would say, pointing to the third (top) floor where little kids were hanging out of screen-less windows, and the residents tried in vain to cool their dwelling with box fans that contained no safety grates on them, and only blew in 90-degree breezes. “That is why you ALWAYS want to improve yourself and why, sometimes, you just have to kiss the boss’s ass. So you NEVER have to wind up living here.”

He was right. And I still hold true to that principle. Because of Don Johns, I will NEVER stop trying to improve myself. I have had some rough times in my life, and I hope they are all mostly behind me. But Don is one reason I am the man I am today.

Don has to be in his 70’s now, if he is even alive; I wish I knew. But I am proud to have called Don a friend, mentor and part-time father. Donnie, I’ll always remember you as a real man who did his part to make a kid become a little more of a man. I’ll never forget you, and I thank God for putting you into my life at such a young age.

Steve Robinson
MusicNGuitar@yahoo.com

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