Tuesday, October 21, 2025
Mike always loved us Allen boys. He didn’t really have a choice! We crawled through his house and garage, all over his trees in the backyard, and ransacked the fridge for Betty’s pickles. Couldn’t help but swing the tennis balls on the strings in the garage… I’m sure he loved that. Helped him rivet patches on the garage door once, I couldn’t squeeze the rivet gun hard enough, but Mike had big hulk hands and made sure to show me the way. I was very little yet, but I remember the 91 World Series game 7 in Mike and Betty’s living room. What a rush. Mike’s newest carvings at Marengo, watching him carefully take the next cut on the soft bass wood chunk, sharpening his knives with the newest and most artful methods known to cutlery connoisseurs, and talk about a horse shoe ring dingler! Legendary craftsman of whatever art was necessary, and master bacon fat egg chef. So many wonderful memories. Such a wonderful man/father/husband/friend. Your daughters loved you so, and showered you with hugs and kisses. You kept them all so close, like a good father should do.
We miss you so much already, Mondo. May your journey to heaven be short and sweet. Watch over us until we meet again.
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