Today is a celebration of the life of Allen Klinger

Our dear, lifetime family friend, Allen Klinger, finally made it to
the Kingdom. I've know him since as far back as I can remember. He and Mom were the closest of friends since the 40's. They would talk on the phone for hours during the last years of my mother's life.
When I was about 8 yrs old I remember so clearly an old thin-tired touring bike which he used to travel around Europe after the War. I wanted to ride it, but the tires were flat. When he came back to see us he would explain to me, as if I were an adult, all about the workings of that bike (and he fixed the tire). He always spoke to me as if I were an adult, even when I was one.

He had bushy eyebrows and fur in his ears, and all over his back. And he gave you hugs like you'd get from a bear!

However, all of us knew him very affectionately as "Turtle Old Man", because he did everything so precisely and carefully and, well, slow, like a turtle. He got that handle from Garrett Rozeboom, another great family friend.
Allen once got a ticket on the East Bay freeway for going too slow!

In the roaring 60's, with "flower children" all over the Haight-Ashbury, he called me over to his little house in Martinez, Cal. to hear something he'd recorded. With such amazing gusto he shared with me the entire new collection of Bob Dylan's songs (the first time I'd heard them, since I was always away somewhere--this time Hawaii and Japan).

After I left to live in Honduras we always kept in touch by mail. He'd compile tapes from KPFA in Berkeley (he was a very active contributor of labor and funds to this Listener-Sponsored station founded by Lewis Hill and many of my Mom's circle of friends in the late 40's) on many themes of interest that intrigued him, and send them off to me. His handwriting was just as precise as he was, and always readable. Some of those tapes were spoken letters as well. What a joy it was to receive them!

He came twice to visit us in Costa Rica and loved every minute of it. He was perfectly fluent in Spanish (as well as Russian, French, German and Portuguese) so he really got into practicing his language skills here. He loved the colloquialisms and jokes and was a delight to everybody.

He would share with me his favorite lastest new reading material. Things like "How the Irish Saved Civilization", by Thomas Cahill. I read some of these at his suggestion.

I remember that Allen was many things, besides being a linguist, life-time scholar, and a lab technition. Until his health started fading he always carried his smokes around in a band-aid box in his shirt, and used a lab beaker for his coffee. He was a true lover of food! He'd make his own black and heavy bread, soupes and lightly steamed veggies. If he came over for dinner he'd practically shout for joy over some delightful new or rich flavor.
He was a meticulous mechanic as well, and at one point used
to own a classic Lincoln four-door sedan with a V-12 engine. (Like the photo on the right, but the color was black.) I remember how he would show me how solidly those doors would close and the fineness of the quality of workmanship. He named that car Ivan, probably for Ivan the Great.

I'm sure I got my love of cars and machines from Allen.

We named our son David Allen after him.
I'm sure he's way beyond delight now that he's left that old worn-out body behind and is hanging out with Mom and all those old friends. He used to call Mom "EB" for Eleanor Brown, her maiden name.
We love you Turtle Ol Man!