Celebrating the Life of a Great Man

For those of you who don't know, my Uncle Allen passed away on September 24th.  He was one of my Mom's brothers and a great man.  Now, I know that most people always think the dearly departed are "great" people, but my Uncle Allen...he really was.  Even if you wanted to say something bad about him, you simply couldn't.  I'm going to add what my Mom wrote and spoke at his Memorial.  She has a true gift with being able to write so beautifully that you feel as though you lived through the experiences with her.  And, as a disclaimer (or as you can see in the pictures), my Uncle Allen spent the majority of his life in a wheel chair.  He was a quadraplegic and had very limited use of his arms...this will help to make my Mom's story more understandable during parts.  So here goes nothing...the story of the most amazing man I've ever known, my Uncle Al...

"Hello everyone, I want to thank each and every one of you for being here today to celebrate the life of my brother. Most of you know me but some of you don’t so I’ll introduce myself. My name is Rita Henderson Mundt and I’m Allen’s youngest sibling.


Those of you who knew Allen best would know that he wouldn’t want a big fuss made over him; he wasn’t into dramatics or being in the spotlight, but funerals are for those left behind, so, sorry Allen here goes…

First of all I would like to thank everyone who donated food and thank you also to the Rebecca’s for providing the dinner. I also want to thank Dee, Tony, Jackie and Fonda for being the children Allen always wanted and for loving him and being so good to him. And lastly, thank you Janet. You were his constant companion, wife and caregiver for 23 years. Because of you, Allen was able to live a full and happy life. You sacrificed your life for him. Well done Janet, you saw it to the end and you finished the race.

If I had a month to stand here and speak I couldn’t possibly touch upon all that my brother was or what he meant to me and to so many others. Some of you here today knew him from the beginning, others maybe for only a little while. One thing was certain; Allen was a man who left a lasting impression upon everyone he met.

Allen was 13 years old when I was born. He used to tell me that he was embarrassed to walk down to Ma Haney’s store with mom while she was pregnant with me because he knew everybody would look at her and know what she had been up to! We had some good laughs over that one.

Like my brother Dick, Allen was a loving and devoted big brother. Allen gave me his undivided attention, spending endless hours talking to me, playing with me and yes, teasing me. Later, when I became an adult, he would often tell me that all the teasing and harmless torment made me tougher. There have been numerous times since, that I’ve had to tap into that mean streak, and so for all the endless teasing Allen, I thank you.

One of my earliest memories of Allen was of him grabbing me by the arms and swinging me around and around in circles until he got me dizzy. He would then set me down and laugh at me as I staggered around the yard. To this day I can still hear his laughter, and to this day I still can’t stand carnival rides…

Allen used to tell me the story about how he & Dick would put me in my stroller. I was probably less than a year old at the time. They would run that stroller, with me in it, around the alley and down the dike at top speed. Mom said it wasn’t unusual for them to have it on two wheels as they went by, with me bouncing around like a rag doll. Apparently that was before anyone had ever heard of “shaken baby syndrome”. The stroller incidents seemed to have a different affect me than the spinning escapades, because to this day I still like anything that goes fast!

One summer I can remember Allen taking me out to the creek to a swimming hole he had behind the house. I couldn’t have been over 4 years old at the time and didn’t swim yet. He would put me on his back and swim underwater, being very careful not to let me fall off. Allen was like that…whether he was taking me to the beach, teaching me to shoot or how to defend myself; he always had my best interest at heart.

Many times he would take me with him when he would go for a drive. I was the coolest of the cool riding shotgun in his ’57 Chevy. My best friend Teena & I would play for hours in that old ‘57. He never seemed to mind, in fact, it was a favorite story of his to the end that he could always tell when we were pretending to drive his car because there would be little sticks in the ash tray. Being children of the 50’s, Teena & I didn’t know you could drive a car without a cigarette!

As you might expect, Allen taught me how to fish. Having White Bird creek in our backyard was a natural classroom for fishing lessons. He would tell me step by step how to tie the fly onto the line and then explain in great detail, how I was to flick the fly out into the creek and let it float down through the ripples, making sure to keep it dry so it looked real to the fish. On my first trip to the creek I found a Sucker someone had thrown up on the bank. I immediately thought I could fool Allen, so I picked it up and took it back to him just as proud as could be, telling him I had caught it. He ewed & awed over that stiff, stinking old Sucker and played along with me because he didn’t want me to be disappointed.

In the summer of 1969, when man first walked on the moon, Allen & I would spend hours out in the back yard gazing up at it through his spotting scope. Like everything else, he used it as an opportunity to teach. He would say “see those big craters, valleys and mountain ranges”. I have never looked at the moon since without remembering that summer and the nights spent gazing up at the moon with him.

Allen had a real interest in my education and would spend endless hours helping me with my homework. If I had a problem I couldn’t get figured out, he would always find a way to explain it to me so that it made sense. He even went so far as to offer me a $1.00 for every “A” I got on my report card. It didn’t take long and he was accusing me and Mrs. Robie of having a conspiracy! Never the less, he paid me anyway, just as he had promised. This was a promise that he continued to keep for as long as I was in school.

Allen cared; he was in tune with my life and what was going on and what was important to me. When all the other kids in town had bicycles and I didn’t, Allen and Dick saw to it that I got one.

Allen had an unbelievable gift in that he could explain something only with words because he couldn’t show me with his hands…he even taught me how to braid. He would tell me, and I quote: “It’s easier than falling off a Log.”

You could say that Allen and I were “nutritional overachievers”. In other words, we liked to eat! One of Allen’s favorite pastimes was to read Cookbooks and to try new recipes. Allen would find something that he thought looked good and he would recruit me to fix it. He would read the instructions to me step by step as I assembled it. Mom never complained and would let Allen & I make a complete mess of her kitchen. Because of those early culinary experiments with Allen, I learned to cook.

Humble beyond words, Allen always gave the praise to others and would down play his own accomplishments to allow others to bask in the lime light. Allen was incredibly funny and could find humor in everything... usually himself. No matter how serious a situation was, Allen could find something in it to laugh about. It was this type of attitude, the ability to find humor or joy in even the worst of circumstances, that preserved him and allowed him to live 46 years after his injury. (Incidentally, that was thirty six years longer than the Drs. predicted he would). I believe there is a passage in the Bible that perfectly describes my brother:

1 Corinthians Chapter 13 verse 4 reads:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I guess you could say then, Allen was the perfect example of love.

I am sad beyond words and there is a void now in my life that will never be filled. I’m not sad for Allen; he’s in a much better place now. I’m sad for me and for the future generations of our family that will never have the privilege of knowing him.

Allen had an unwavering love of White Bird and the Salmon River. He loved every rock, every blade of grass and everyone from here. I’ve heard it said that heaven is different for everyone. If that’s true then I already know what heaven looks like to Allen… it looks just like White Bird."

Uncle Allen & My Mom

Uncle Allen & Me

Uncle Allen & one of his favorite pastimes

(What he could do with limited use of his body was amazing!)

The Henderson Family

Back row (Left to Right) Aunt Marie, Uncle Dick, My Mom

Front Row (Left to Right) Uncle Allen, Grandma Margie, Grandpa Horace