Easton Allen

(Edward) Easton Allen, 93, peacefully passed from this world on Easter Sunday. Always a man of faith and an unapologetic optimist, he knew where he was headed.

The Good Lord welcomed him, as did his wife (Isla) Fern Smedley Allen, his mother Annie May Easton Allen, his father Woodard “Woody” Harrison Allen, and his older brother (Woodard) Harrison Allen Jr., along with many, many friends during a long and very fulfilling, happy life.

The funeral service will be 4:00 p.m. Sunday, April 19, 2026, at The Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit with The Rev. Jason Ingalls officiating. Visitation will be from 3:00-5:00 p.m. Saturday, April 18, at Wilkirson-Hatch-Bailey Funeral Home. Burial will be 9:00 a.m. Monday, April 20, at Oakwood Cemetery.

Born in Wichita Falls, Texas, on April 20, 1932, Easton was the second son of “Munnie” and “Woody.” His little brother Edwin Lawson Allen, born 13 years later, survives him.

Easton lost the tip of one finger to a “let’s mow the lawn” incident with his brother Harrison when he was about 5. His mother required him to clean his plate before he could have dessert. So, once Easton grew up, he never ate every bite on his plate again-just to show her that he didn’t need her permission to have his beloved slice of pie.

Easton had a full head of hair as teenager—a pompadour. Although it wouldn’t last, he took full advantage of it to attract girls. Eventually, he got around to asking that beautiful brunette in their high-school’s A Cappella Choir, Fern Smedley, to a dance. They married Feb. 2, 1952 (ages 18 and 19), with his 7-year-old brother Eddie as ringbearer. They moved to a tiny apartment in Lubbock, where Easton was studying architecture at Texas Tech University. (Guns Up, Red Raiders!)

He worked part-time at a local steel-fabrication company, supervising a high school student who once asked for the afternoon off to sing and play guitar on a Lubbock radio show. Easton said “yes,” and the rest is history. In gratitude, Buddy Holly tooled a leather wallet for Easton, which is in his safe-deposit box to this day. (He tried to donate it when they built the Buddy Holly Museum, but they had no interest . . . )

Easton would later say that his father told him nothing about birth control before he married, and Fern didn’t know much either. So (Sandra) Denise Allen was born 11 months after their wedding. Easton and Fern managed to hold it together, with just one part-time worker, in a slightly larger apartment, until another surprise, Marcia Diane Allen, came along 13 months after Denise. And that was the end of Easton’s college career.

No matter: He was a man with energy, intelligence, and a wife and two children to support. They moved to Oklahoma City for what sounded like a great job with another steel company. They even bought a car. And a 35mm camera for Easton’s growing interest in photography. But alas, the promised bonus failed to appear, and Easton was again on the job market.

His buddy from architecture school, Jack Cates, suggested a steel fabrication company in Waco. WACO! No way; Easton was a big-city guy. But he checked out Alamo Steel & Machine and said yes to what turned out to be a decades-long career there. He spent the rest of his life in Waco, first at 3904 Mira, then at 737 N. 59th St. (he modified the “tract-house” plan and planned a future addition) and finally at 2624 Eldridge Lane, designed by Easton, who also served as general contractor.

Easton and Fern’s longed-for son, Dwight Burton Allen, was born in Waco in 1958. Fern said she wanted to have all of her children before she turned 25, and Dwight was born one day after her 25th birthday.

Easton hired on at Alamo as a draftsman, then moved into sales—traveling some. He ultimately became No. 2 man: vice president of sales—and one of Alamo’s owners. We children remember in particular his first company car, with no back seat—and a “no riders” sticker on the windshield. If he wasn’t travelling, he drove 20 minutes—each way—to have a quick lunch, Monday-Friday, at home with Fern.

Easton and Fern had a host of friends: neighbors, Civitan and Beta Sigma Phi friends, church friends. In 1966, they were among the original members of The Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit. Easton’s bold signature is below the rector’s on the articles of incorporation—and both Easton and Fern were intensely involved in both parish and diocesan activities. But it wasn’t all serious, even at church: Easton and Fern attended and hosted parties often, with Easton dressing up as Li’l Abner, Raggedy Andy, and other memorable characters.

Easton was an engaged father, especially for those days. Of course, he was the final enforcer of discipline, typical in the 1950s and 60s. “This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you,” he’d say as he slid his belt from the loops. But he also was the one who patted 7th-grade Denise’s back as she sobbed on her bed, “I’m not popular!”

Easton was an artist, and all three of us “children” want that contemporary black-and-white Last Supper that he conceived and painted. When Marcia showed artistic talent, he gently encouraged her.

He loved music and used to “conduct” symphonies playing on the hi-fi. When, as teenagers, we bought a new record, he couldn’t wait to listen to it. He also loved to dance and taught Marcia and Denise that new dance, The Twist. He sang baritone in choirs most of his life. His example (and Fern’s) encouraged Denise to be a lifelong singer, too.

Easton enjoyed playing golf—and hit a hole-in-one in 2003! Fern claimed to be a golf widow, but he actually played no more than once a week.

When the grandchildren were young, they bought a small houseboat (they called it a “barge”) and tooled around Lake Waco. Easton loved popping in and out of the water for a swim with the grandkids. Marcia, who has a backyard pool, was tickled pink when Easton and Fern visited, and he would dive and swim. In his late 80s, he and his brothers visited Marcia and Don, and all three of them had a blast diving and swimming.

Alamo Steel & Machine went through a series of crises when the U.S. steel industry faltered in the 1970s, but Easton’s valiant efforts saved the company’s pension for all employees. When Alamo was sold, Easton “retired” from his first career. It was tough for a couple of years, since Easton was in his early 50s and “overqualified” for most positions. Then he found a job at L.L. Sams and Sons’ new office-furniture division. Easton, always a great salesman, did well—and eventually started his own small company, which he operated until his mid-70s, when Fern developed Alzheimer’s Disease.

No one was surprised when he devoted himself to Fern’s care. Even when the family finally moved her to Wesley Woods Healthcare, Easton visited her daily for lunch. Afterward, he would sit with her on an indoor bench and quietly sing “You Are My Sunshine.”

Fern died in March 2015.

Easton was “Grandpapa” (his name for his own maternal grandfather) or “Papa” to his six grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren (“Daddy” to his three children). Until the day he died, he enjoyed family scrapbooks and the photos his grandchildren sent to his digital photo screen.

The term “family man” must have been coined with Easton in mind. Also, “friend” and “man of faith.” He had a great ride on Planet Earth, and we can only imagine what a fine time he’s having in heaven.

Easton is survived by his brother Eddie, Eddie’s wife Lynn, and their children Todd and Leslie; his daughter Denise, her children Laura (husband Ian) and Paul (wife Sara), and granddaughters Clare and June; his daughter Marcia, her husband Don, their sons Nicholas (wife Amanda) and Allen, and grandchildren Sadie and Mason; his son Dwight, Dwight’s wife Linda, their children Justin (wife Tori) and Trisha (husband Lyle), and grandchildren Easton, Knox, Savannah and Hadley; his cousin George (wife Jane); his niece and nephews, Gary, Alicia, Bradley and Mark; his “friend girl” Louise Stafford; as well as longtime friends at The Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit, Providence cardiac rehab, his decades-old investment club, and neighbors. The Allen family especially appreciates the loving attention offered, for years, from The Rev. Jason Ingalls.

In lieu of flowers, Easton’s family requests contributions to the charity of your choice—or to some of Easton’s favorites: The Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit, Meals on Wheels, and Friends for Life.

The family invites you to leave a message or memory of Easton in his “Memorial Guestbook” at www.WHBfamily.com