Christoper Allen Green, 61, was born on September 11, 1965 in Columbia, KY, a son of “LC” Green and the late Barbara Jean Green. He departed on Thursday morning, October 29, 2026 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana after several weeks of hospitalizations.
Many words were heard and sent in Chris’s final days. Loving, selfless, thoughtful, gentle, decent, funny, caring, genuine, quick to make fun of himself, calm, non-complaining. His sister, Beth, used the words “Protector”, the “Calm in the Storm”, the man she remembered who would light up seeing her when she was a little girl and say “Hello, Bethly Ann Green!” Son Caleb described Chris as his “Hero” with shoes “too big to fill”. These words define what simply is getting harder and harder to find - A truly Good Person- A truly Good Man - in a world with ever increasing bad intentions and circumstances. He weathered them all and remained the same Chris throughout, to the end.
One other word obvious to all was that Chris was a FIGHTER - A medical marvel. His chronic lung issues had brought him to death’s door countless times over his later life, yet so many times, he didn’t open it, fighting to stay, to love and support his wife Cathy, her hand in his, and their family. Strength, Character, love of God and family can defy biology and medical predictions – Chris proved it, over and over again.
It was always obvious Chris was a fighter. It was also obvious Chris was a Kentucky Man thru and thru. After moving to Louisiana, his married into family tried to spice up his “cornbread and beans” roots with some Louisiana seasoning. He took it good naturedly, folded into the south Louisiana culture and grew to actually like some things, but they knew - no matter how much spice was thrown into his pot, Chris was always going to be a KY “Cornbread and Beans, No Nonsense” man. They wouldn’t have it any other way. If there was an honorary Departed Kentuckians “Who’s Who”, Volume 1, bound in wildcat blue leather with gold-gilded pages in the Lord’s Library, Chris would be in it.
He called his wife Catherine, not Cathy, seeing on their marriage license that her given name was Catherine, stating “I didn’t know that was your name. That is beautiful. Like you.” He called her Catherine from that point forward. No one else in the family did that. For Chris, Catherine was special and that proved it.
He loved anything sweet to eat, cakes, pies, Little Debbie snack cakes. Chocolate gravy a personal favorite. On family trips, Chris was less concerned about schedules, price of gas, luggage and more concerned about his “bag of travel goodies”.
He was proud of his work history and loved to work, spending years laying all manner of utility pipe all around the Region. His employers valued his ability and work ethic.
Chris was an avid reader. He loved reading, but also loved books beyond the stories in them, having them, keeping them, sharing them. Reading was breathing to him. An everyday involuntary impulse. He loved westerns. A reliable fictional world of the clear right versus wrong struggle, the good guy winning, of black letters on white paper, turning the pages on his own schedule, where he was in control, apart from the real world where he had lost much of it. Chris’s love of reading and later health struggles presented him that “One More Chapter” type decision so many times in his life. Readers can get so immersed in the story, what will happen next, that they keep reading regardless of the time, despite the stiffness in the body, despite the little voice telling them to stop, wanting to get a little more reading in. They do a “peak ahead” to see how many pages they are taking on if they decide to go on, grabbing those pages, judging the effort and time and decide “Can I do that or am I going to save that for later?” Chris had so many “should I stop now or keep reading, keep breathing, keep going?” moments. Should I just give in and go to sleep or fight to keep his eyes open and continue to live, be there for his family, be the Chris we knew and loved. The early morning of October 29th brought that decision to Chris once again. The choice to make. The eye’s heavy. Keep going. Keep turning pages or stop, set the bookmark. The morning of Chris’s passing, the Lord said:
“Chris. That is enough. I am the Lord, deciding for you. I know you are so very tired. You have won this fight enough to demonstrate the depths of you. I am here. Your family is here. You are loved. There is no need to prove anything to me, your family, or anyone. Do not be afraid. Do not feel you are letting anyone down. Your book of life is an epic saga, a masterpiece to be remembered for generations. Your bookmark goes here, this morning. Do not fret the unread pages. I have looked ahead for you. They are endless in my kingdom. We will read them together. You and I. Pages filled with love and joy, watching Cathy, Caleb, Molly, Ashlie, Roby, Quaid, Wrennen and the rest of your family grow and live and love. Endless pages to be turned, endless Chapters to be read. We will read each one together, but these black and white pages will be filled with beautiful pictures, illustrated in beautiful colors.”
In addition to his mother, he was also preceded in death by a brother, Timmy Green.
SURVIVORS:
His wife of 39 years: Catherine Tutt Green
1 son: Caleb Green (Ashlie) of Ragley, Louisiana
1 daughter: Molly Green of Ragley, Louisiana
3 grandsons: Roby Green, Quaid Green and Wrennen Green
1 sister: Beth Sneed (Jeremy) of Russell Springs, KY
1 brother: Troy Green (Cheryl) of Columbia
Several nieces & nephews
Numerous members of his extended family & friends
Funeral Service: Tuesday, November 3, 2026 at 11:00amCT at Grissom-Martin Funeral Home in Columbia, KY
Visitation: Monday, November 2, 2026 from 4:00pm-8:00pmCT at the funeral home
Graveside services will be at the Freedom Separate Baptist Church Cemetery.
Grissom-Martin Funeral Home is in charge of the arrangements.
