James W Allen
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James W. Allen, 88 years old, passed away peacefully October 17, 2016 in Peculiar, Missouri. A military graveside service will be held 10:00 AM, Tuesday, October 25, 2016 at Leavenworth National Cemetery, Leavenworth, Kansas.
James was born January 17, 1928 in Urich, Missouri. He is survived by; his wife, Irene Allen and son, Rod Allen of the home; his daughter, Georgia Dringman; sons, Mike Rouse, Kenneth Allen and James W. Allen Jr.; his sister, Shirley Coakley, and Grand Children, Great Grand Children and Great Great Grand Children.
James was a veteran of WWII and Korean wars and is loved and missed by all that
knew him.
I am sure I will post more later, but, I kind of wanted to test the site.
Missing and Loving my Dad, and knowing how many folks loved him, is proof to me, what a good man he was.
Wow, what a good man…. I appreciate all the support, love, and hugs from all….
Thinking of you Grandpa… We sure do love and miss you so much. Thank you for all the wonderful memories. You are the best Grandpa ever. ?Hugs ??
My thoughts and love to the family in this difficult time.
My heart is with you in your time of sorrow.
Love always Cindy
Dad, you are missed so much already. Thank you always for your kindness and love. Your memory will be ever present in our hearts.
Grandpa…you are missed so much… we love you so much?
Grandpa…you are missed so much… we love you so much<3
Continued prayers for you and your family Rod, as you move forward through the days and months ahead. What a beautiful service for your father. God Bless
I Love You Popa,
I can’t believe it’s almost been 10 years. Here’s the poem I wrote for you after I heard of your passing 🙏.
I watched the sun rise and the sun set,
on the only day I’ve ever known without you here.
So many of us would never even be,
without the life that you led and lived.
Like a fallen great old growth tree, Grandad is gone
But his spirit lives on in the roots of the forest he built upon.
I’ll always cherish the times we spent,
the ways you taught me how farming went.
Walking me around when I was a tiny one,
among all the hundreds of chicks who were all just as young.
It was you and the boys (Uncle Mike, Kenny, Rod, and Dad)
Who taught me spades at Thanksgiving,
sitting atop the old iron milkcan barstools,
not thinking twice that I wasn’t a lad.
You made hats and t-shirts to show off your sitting bull,
And I’m not sure if it’s true – but to this day,
I’ve thought his name J.J.
was in honor of my name Jacqueline Jean.
And even though I’m not sure of that,
I can say for a fact you did name one of your baby calfs after me,
And another for Bree and Natalie.
You let us climb on your tractor as you bailed hay
And feed the cows their snacks twice a day.
And every year,
We kids got to take pictures on your fake reindeer.
You built a life in the ways of the land
You taught me a lot and I know I can stand
Tall and proud of what I’ve learned
From your years, love, and charm,
So grateful you were able to live out your days on that very same farm.
Rest in peace Popa.