| The Class of 1976 |
"Allen Edward Howland of San Francisco, CA was born in Haxtun January 12, 1958 to Arthur P. and Vivian L. Haynes Howland. He died July 13, 1995 in San Francisco at the age of 37.
Allen attended schools in Holyoke and graduated as the Salutatorian of the Class of `76. He received the Boettcher Scholarship and attended the University of Denver majoring in journalism. He also studied at Nova University of Florida.
He resided in Midland, TX for 12 years where he worked at Petroleum Business Magazine (The Drill Bit) as a business reporter. He was then at the Midland Reporter-Telegram as a business reporter and eventually assistant city editor.
Howland moved to San Francisco in July of 1993 where he was employed as a computer graphic designer at Haskin Press. He was working there at the time of his death. Preceding him in death were his father Arthur, sister Connie, and four grandparents.
Survivors include his mother Vivian Howland of Holyoke; sister Patricia and her husband Tony Garwatoski of Gahanna, OH; brother Dennis and his wife Donna of Winner, SD; four nephews, two nieces, 11 aunts, 10 uncles, many cousins, and other relatives and friends. Services were held Monday, July 17, 1995 at the First United Methodist Church in Holyoke with Jim Mort officiating. Burial was in Holyoke Memorial Park.
Memorials are suggested to Project Open Hand or to the Methodist Church in Holyoke.
Arrangements were handled by Tennant-Thompson Funeral Home of Holyoke "
Above is the obituary for Allen Howland from the "Holyoke Enterprise". It has all the facts about Allen's life, but it is lacking all the joy, laughter, intelligence, and friendship that we knew as Allen. It doesn't talk about sitting in the hall painting a huge paper backdrop for "Animal Farm" when we were in Mr. Anderson's 6th grade class. It doesn't say that we all knew that Allen would be Student Body President even when we were just lowly freshmen. It doesn't remember about the times we rode around in Allen's red and black `56 Oldsmobile Super 88 (Sherman) talking about school, life, boyfriends, girlfriends, and the future. It doesn't tell about the time we piled into Allen's new two-tone yellow Volare (all 13 of us, some hanging out the sun roof) to go back to school from some outing. It doesn't say how hard Allen worked at Shop All to buy that car. It leaves out the story of the time Bob Leben, Allen and I pinned a tail on Sue Schumann in Chemistry because the previous year in Biology she had expressed a longing for one.
Allen and I were friends and friendly rivals from 4th grade through high school. I can still remember him teasing me that his grades were better than mine in 5th grade because he got a A in penmanship, compared to my A-. From Allen I learned the joys of eating vanilla ice cream on pumpkin pie. Because of Allen, I memorized the entire melodrama our senior year and was able to step in two weeks before the performance when Kim Weinmaster Sprague dropped Drama at the end of the semester. My friend Allen was the one who bought me a cookbook when I got married and left out the lecture (mostly) about wasting my life getting married at 18. I counted him among my best friends and am so sorry that he isn't here with us this weekend. I asked to Bob Leben to share some of his memories with us, too.
Bob says, "Allen and I spent alot of time together working on the school paper "Dragon Tales" our senior year. We took an independent study class with Mr. Lynch, the journalism teacher, and met in the library to work on the paper. While I struggled to write my articles, Allen was truly gifted and able to write excellent articles very quickly. I wasn't surprised that he ended up with a career in journalism.
The last time I talked to Allen was the night he was on Jeopardy!, which was on February 11, 1993. I called his home and found out from his answering machine that he was working as the night Editor for the Midland Reporter-Telegram that evening. I called him at the paper and gave him a pretty hard time about his performance on Jeopardy!. As usual, he could take a ribbing with the best of them and could easily laugh at himself. In the show, he got off to a slow start, did well for a while, and then crashed and burned in Final Jeopardy. Yet, he did HHS proud and I'm sure none of us in the Class of '76 could have done any better.
However, Allen did show his unique sense of humor in the hard fought game. He drew a blank on the Final Jeopardy answer: "The U.S. Supreme Court Justice whose father was born in Italy and was a professor at New York University." The question he should have responded with was: "Who is Justice Antonin Scalia?" Drawing a blank Allen answered: "Who is Thurgood Marshall?", which he knew to be the first Black Supreme Court Justice whose father certainly wasn't born in Italy. It would have been an OK joke, but between the taping of the show and the airing of the broadcast, Justice Marshall had died. And now Allen's OK joke had turned into a tasteless joke, disrespectful of one the most well- know figures in the history of civil rights and the U.S. Supreme Court. When I talked to him that night, he was putting the final finishing touches on the column he was writing for the next morning's paper about his appearance on Jeopardy!. He joked that January 24, 1993, the day Justice Marshall died, was the darkest day of his life. I have never seen the column he wrote, but I am sure Allen handled that task with his usual wit, humour and style that we have all known and loved."
I'm sure all of you have memories of Allen, but I think Ronda Willmon Hayes said it best: "I remember Allen and I miss him." lisa vasa schlabach
From: The Reporter-Telegram Midland, Texas February 12, 1993
Game of Lifetime is Reward Enough for Also-ran -- Midlander enjoys "Jeopardy!"
Adventure
By Allen E. Howland
Assistant City Editor
EDITOR'S NOTE:Assistant City Editor Allen Howland is the proud new owner of a karaoke machine as a result of his appearance on the "Jeopardy!" program that aired Thursday.
I was sadder than most people when Thurgood Marshall died last month. Not only did our nation lose one of the greatest jurists and legal minds of the century, but his passing made my "Final Jeopardy!" answer on Thursday's program appear to be a cruel, tasteless joke.
But when the show was taped last November, Marshall was alive and well and 84.
I guess it proved that the only thing more inane to my being than my intellect is my sense of humor. When my mind refused to come up with the name of an Italian-American who had served on the Supreme Court, the little voice inside my head urged me to a least come up with a memorable -- albeit incorrect -- answer. Thus was born "Who is Thurgood Marshall?"
Not that knowing Antonin Scalia would have changed the outcome of the game, since both my opponents immediately came up with the correct response, I still would have finished in third place -- the recipient of a Singalodean Karaoke machine and "wonderful parting gifts" in any event.
Despite coming in third in a threeway race before a national audience, the entire experience remains a thorough delite for me.
The opportunity to realize a long-held dream was not diminished by the lack of financial gain. The fun and excitement of taping the show, and the subsequent efforts of my coworkers to pry the results from me, was a pure joy. I felt calm during the taping, and thought it came across fairly well during the telecast, but I was surprised how much of the proceedings I had forgotten in the nearly three months since my trip to Hollywood.
Watching the show unfold surrounded by dozens of eager fans, it all came back to me: the frustration of being a split-second late on the buzzer on the questions I knew; wanting to smack myself in the forehead for saying "Columbia" instead of "Brazil" as the world's leading producer of coffee and oranges (which I realized an instant too late do not grow in the mountainous climes of Colombia); the bemusement of tangling up two verses of the lyrics to "My Favorite Things"; and the delight at gaining $500 for connection on one of may all-time favorite plays, Tennessee Williams' "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" in the "Familiar Phrases" category.
For those of you who are wondering: No, we contestants had no idea of what the category choices would be until we were standing on the set with the cameras running.
We had an idea of what they wouldn't be, based on the categories of the three shows we had watched being taped earlier in the day. The conventional wisdom among the "green room" crowd was that they would repeat a category during the two days we were taping.
So the group -- save one -- heaved a collective sigh of relief when the first category in the first game of the day was "Books of the Bible," an apparent weak spot for many of us, myself included. The only member of our studio audience group who was visibly disappointed was a rabbi from Virginia, who had entertained notions of sweeping an Old Testament-laden category.
If I'd had my druthers, the categories would have been heavier on pop culture, wordplay and the Oscars and much lighter on "Snails," "Railroads," and "Perfumes and Colognes."
But then again, once the categories were revealed, I doubt that I would have predicted that "Annual Events," would be one of my strongest suits, but that's how it turned out, I think. Only instant replay knows for sure.
I knew going into my game that I was going to have a tough time keeping up with Susie, the defending champion. During the first two tape session of the day, she and I sat side by side, pantomiming the buzzer action and nodding when our mental questions were correct.
Our knowledge patterns were strikingly similar and I'm sure an observer would have likely mistaken us for a pair of carnival-prize dogs with bobbing heads in the back window of a vintage auto. Our unison nodding was punctuated with occasional blank stares at each other as a particular clue or category would mystify us both.
So I knew I had my work cut out for me, and the synapses and reactions just weren't quite up to the job.
The buzzers themselves are rigged to red neon light tubes on either side of the game board, out of range of the studio cameras. The lights are manually tripped by a man backstage when Alex Trebek finishes reading the answer aloud.
Because it takes longer to read aloud than to yourself, in most instances it was strictly a question of timing, to hit the button as the light comes on. If two players punch at the same time, both are locked out and must depress the buzzer again.
The quick, repetitive action seems to be more suited to female thumbs, for some inexplicable reason. During the seven shows I watched being taped, seven new or continuing female champions were crowned from an evenly mixed contestant pool.
I take solace in the fact that it took Jerome Vered, No. 2 on the all- time-money-winners list for the show and a finalist in the most recent Tournament of Champions, four tries to pass the test and audition that I managed to clear in a single trip last April.
Lest any of this be construed as sour grapes, let me emphasize how much fun the entire experience was, and how impressed I was with my fellow competitors. I made several great acquaintances and at least one life- long friend as a result of the show.
Where else can you be tossed into a room with 12 incredibly bright, witty and personable people and have a chance to make some money in the deal?
In short, I'd do it all again in a minute, given the chance, but production rules forbid trying out for the same show again within five years.
After that who knows?
The following are some e-mail messages I received from Allen's friends. Also, special thanks goes to Allen's good friend Diane King, librarian for the MRT, who was able to fax a copy of Allen's article to me in time for our 20th reunion. -Bob Leben
From Jimmy Patterson
Bob,
Hope you don't mind being called Bob. Since we have a mutual friend in Allen, I feel like I sort of know you. Allen was a wonderful person with one of the kindest hearts I've ever known. I had the pleasure of working with him for only five years, but the place hasn't been the same since he left for San Francisco in 1993. I sort of stepped in and began doing his job when he left -- stuff that would've been heaped on Allen -- but nobody can do the quality of work Allen did. We had a memorial luncheon for him last month on the anniversary of his death. We all went to Black Eyed Pea, his favorite eatery, and reminisced. We even bought Allen a Diet Coke and put it on the table in front of the empty chair where he would've been sitting had he been able to make it. Allen being a mildly practical joker, we kept waiting for the Diet Coke to disappear from the glass. He is very missed and we still talk about him many times a week.
I'm glad we could help you find what you were looking for. Diane does have a knack for tracking stuff down. I believe her e-mail address is wildheart@basinlink.com. Again, thanks for your letter. Hope your reunion is enjoyable.
Sincerely,
Jimmy Patterson
From Myra Salcedo
Heard about Allen's High School reunion. I worked with him all the time he lived in Midland. My name is Myra Salcedo. I am the education writer at the Midland Reporter-Telgram. Allen was a great friend. I wrote his memorial service and made an AIDS quilt panel signed by everyone at the newspaper. It has joined the national NAMES quilt and will be displayed in October in Washington, D.C. on the mall. It was nice to read memories people had of Allen when he was younger.
Here is an excerpt from Allen Howland's July 17, 1995 memorial service, written and recited by Myra Salcedo:
Allen was bright, astute, witty and incurably cheerful. He assumed the role of Trivia King at the Midland Reporter-Telegram and it was almost impossible to stump him on any question, whether it be the width of the Nile River or the date and page of the newspaper where some obscure artile appeared. Of course, if Allen didn't know the answer to a question, he was liable to make one up. And I was liable to believe him.
Allen was always professional and courteous to everyone he came in contact with. He was an excellent writer and earned the Anson Jones Medical Award in 1990 for articles he wrote on AIDS. It was the only first place in the state given that year.
After grueling preparation, and forcing many of his newsroom peers to grill him with sample Jeopardy! questions, Allen achieved the notoriety of passing the screening to become a contestant on Jeopardy! When he didn't win he mentioned that he was always missing great success in life by just a few points. But in my book Allen was a winner and achieved success by going farther than many of us.
He only lived 37 years and no one told him he would only have 37 years to accomplish everything he wanted in life. But that is no matter, since he lived life to the fullest, treated everyone kindly, gave 100 percent to his every task, and never failed to reach for the last piece of pie on a plate.
Allen was the epitome of a positive thinker, cheerful against all odds and never complained, even when you wanted him too. A couple of days before he died, even though his voice was weak and it was difficult to talk, he still sounded so upbeat on the phone it was impossible to believe he was terminally ill.
Unfortunately for those of his friends in Midland, Allen moved to San Francisco a couple of years ago. His companion, Jeff, said hardly a day went by that Allen did not talk about his friends in Midland or relate some funny story about something that happened at the Reporter-Telegram. Journalists are consummate storytellers and those stories seem to sustain us until the end.
Even strangers have called the newspaper to say they are sorry Allen is gone. One woman said, "I used to live next door to Allen. I don't know much about him. But I know he was kindhearted, always quick to help with a bag of groceries or lend a hand. He was a good man, and a great, great neighbor."
by Myra Salcedo
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maintained by Bob Leben.