Ogden Loses a Champion
For nearly a week now, I have been trying to piece together the right words to say regarding Len Allen. We all have memories of when we first heard that golden voice. Mine was as a child when Ogden had its own television station, KOOG Channel 30. At that time, I only recognized the voice of Len Allen as the man who did the station identification between cartoons in the afternoon. It wasn't until years later that I personally met Len. I felt honored to actually get to meet this man, but it was he who acted honored to meet me. A year ago, I again had the honor of rubbing shoulders with this fine man. I had known his wife, Dena, through some programs in which she had been involved and he was supporting her in that effort. Again, though it had been about five years since we had last met, "Mr. Ogden" treated me as though we were old friends. I am a relatively new to Ogden and unlike many, did not grow up listening to KLO, but the love this man exuded was beyond description. The feelings I feel about Len Allen were best summarized last week in the Opinion section of the Standard-Examiner:
Friday, October 14, 2005
If Ogden had a mascot, it would be Len Allen.
The voice of Ogden, and for more than 50 years the rest of the Top of Utah, passed away Thursday -- after cheating death so many times most of his friends and family had long since lost count.
The story goes that just a few months ago he was back in the hospital and fading fast. The doctors advised his family to assemble and prepare for the worst, and so they did. Hours into the vigil, Len woke up, looked around the room full of his closest loved ones and asked, "What're all you people doing here?"
Classic Len, that -- always with the smile, the laughter and the absolutely positive attitude. Kids loved him. One family member we know said every Christmas they'd gather at Len's home, and he'd greet them with something like, "Hey, kids. Can I get you a drink? What would you like: juice, milk, Scotch?"
You know how some people have dark clouds hanging over them all the time? Len took bright sunlight with him everywhere he went.
He began work at KLO-AM in 1947, when Ogden was a hopping rail town like no other, and home to an increasing military presence. He did celebrity interviews, play-by-play sports -- he even had a wooden gavel he'd use to simulate the crack of a bat during baseball games -- spun records and delved deep into local, state and national issues with all sorts of newsmakers.
Most of all, though, Len Allen was a guy who loved his adopted town. He was Junction City's chief promoter and fiercest defender. He was the public face of the city for more than five decades.
If you wanted to know what was going on in Ogden, all you had to do was listen to his show every morning. He'd point out the big stories in that day's Standard-Examiner, take phone calls and generally keep his audience in the loop. As we wrote in this space in 1997, on the occasion of his 50th anniversary on the airwaves, it was almost as if the people who had grown up listening to him had their radio dials welded onto KLO 1430.
But he also spent countless hours off the air in service to the community. For decades he was the Ogden Pioneer Days parade announcer at 25th Street and Washington Boulevard, the host for too many civic events to count and a guy who would lend his name and support to any worthwhile cause.
Indeed, during one of his recent stays in the hospital, he still had a sketchpad in front of him, toying with ideas to revitalize Ogden's economy.
Fortunately, Len passed away knowing what he had meant to the community. The Ogden/Weber Chamber of Commerce presented him with its Wall of Fame award in 2003. During his acceptance speech, Len paraphrased the great Lou Gehrig by telling the hundreds assembled that he felt that night like the luckiest man in Ogden.
There was no luck involved. Len Allen earned every bit of that respect and admiration with his work ethic, tireless support of his community and jubilant personality. The man was a gem, a real one of a kind.
We're the lucky ones, for having known him.
So long, Len. Thanks for making Ogden your life.
Friday, October 14, 2005
If Ogden had a mascot, it would be Len Allen.
The voice of Ogden, and for more than 50 years the rest of the Top of Utah, passed away Thursday -- after cheating death so many times most of his friends and family had long since lost count.
The story goes that just a few months ago he was back in the hospital and fading fast. The doctors advised his family to assemble and prepare for the worst, and so they did. Hours into the vigil, Len woke up, looked around the room full of his closest loved ones and asked, "What're all you people doing here?"
Classic Len, that -- always with the smile, the laughter and the absolutely positive attitude. Kids loved him. One family member we know said every Christmas they'd gather at Len's home, and he'd greet them with something like, "Hey, kids. Can I get you a drink? What would you like: juice, milk, Scotch?"
You know how some people have dark clouds hanging over them all the time? Len took bright sunlight with him everywhere he went.
He began work at KLO-AM in 1947, when Ogden was a hopping rail town like no other, and home to an increasing military presence. He did celebrity interviews, play-by-play sports -- he even had a wooden gavel he'd use to simulate the crack of a bat during baseball games -- spun records and delved deep into local, state and national issues with all sorts of newsmakers.
Most of all, though, Len Allen was a guy who loved his adopted town. He was Junction City's chief promoter and fiercest defender. He was the public face of the city for more than five decades.
If you wanted to know what was going on in Ogden, all you had to do was listen to his show every morning. He'd point out the big stories in that day's Standard-Examiner, take phone calls and generally keep his audience in the loop. As we wrote in this space in 1997, on the occasion of his 50th anniversary on the airwaves, it was almost as if the people who had grown up listening to him had their radio dials welded onto KLO 1430.
But he also spent countless hours off the air in service to the community. For decades he was the Ogden Pioneer Days parade announcer at 25th Street and Washington Boulevard, the host for too many civic events to count and a guy who would lend his name and support to any worthwhile cause.
Indeed, during one of his recent stays in the hospital, he still had a sketchpad in front of him, toying with ideas to revitalize Ogden's economy.
Fortunately, Len passed away knowing what he had meant to the community. The Ogden/Weber Chamber of Commerce presented him with its Wall of Fame award in 2003. During his acceptance speech, Len paraphrased the great Lou Gehrig by telling the hundreds assembled that he felt that night like the luckiest man in Ogden.
There was no luck involved. Len Allen earned every bit of that respect and admiration with his work ethic, tireless support of his community and jubilant personality. The man was a gem, a real one of a kind.
We're the lucky ones, for having known him.
So long, Len. Thanks for making Ogden your life.
posted by Lancer at 9:05 AM
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