Allen's Cafe: Newspaper Article: March 27, 1996


Carl Allen takes final curtain call

By CHIP NEWTON
News Chief

AUBURNDALE - The sentence on Tuesday's roadside menu-board was the hardest thing Billy Joe Lawson's had to write in a long, long time.

"Closed this week due to death," read the garish yellow sign outside Carl Allen's Historical Cafe here.

Here Is the text of a statement from Florida Governor Lawton Chiles regarding Death of Carl Allen:

"Rhea and I are saddened by the death of Carl Allen. Carl was a great friend to me and my family and a true friend of all Floridians. Carl was a true Florida treasure. He enriched our lives with remarkable tales of 'Cracker' Florida and led the effort to preserve this colorful part of our heritage.

"Carl always provided great wisdom, good humor and a strong appreciation of our state's people and history. Through his work he has strengthened the entire community of Florida - through his life he has touched us all. Rhea and I will miss Carl and extend our deepest sympathies to his family."

Carl Allen is dead.

Allen, 78, died early Tuesday after apparently suffering a heart attack at his home behind the world famous eatery and music career launching pad a few blocks from where he was born.

Lawson has worked for Allen since "about 1975," he said. "If you'da told me I'd still be workin' for the same man all this time , I'd a said 'no.' But I'da worked for him if he hadn't paid me a dime."

Allen "never said anything bad about anybody," Lawson said.

Carl Allen, through his antique-littered catfish restaurant with its platform stage at the rear, offered a chance for dozens - if not hundreds - of amateur musicians to play "on stage."

Many of them went on to become well known in bluegrass and country music fields.

"He was always ready to give everybody a chance," said Leonard Fowler, a bass fiddle player who credits Allen with "offering the opportunity" to get on stage. Fowler, now with "Bluegrass Buddies," an Auburndale based band, said Allen was his "biggest fan."

"He encouraged me in everything I did," Fowler said. "I'm gonna miss him."

That's a common sentiment.

"Carl did so much for music there's no way no barometer of his impact in Florida," said Frank May, who plays mandolin for Bluegrass Buddies. "He gave musicians a chance to play at his stage presentations. Many have gone on to be fine musicians."

Gilbert Hancock, for example.

"He got us on television," Hancock said. "He took us over there to Channel 13. He did a lot for bluegrass around this area."

Hancock, 28, began playing a banjo in 1975 and in 1977 was performing at Allen's.

He's still there every Thursday night, now with his famous band "Gilbert Hancock and Friends."

Allen died just more than a week after his 20th annual Florida State Bluegrass Championship music festival, which was held at International Market World the event's third home.

This year's event, which featured the country's best bluegrass bands, drew more than 1,000 times the number who attended the first festival which was held on Lake Avenue in downtown Auburndale.

More than 125,900 cars were parked for the 1996 event, said festival spokesperson Phyllis Noah. Allen earlier said that would translate to at least 250,000 attendees. Quite a change from the early days.

Between 100 and 150 spectators arrayed themselves in 1976 in the street to hear musicians Allen assembled to compete for brand new titles - Florida State Fiddle Champion and Florida State Banjo Champion. Big words for the then-upstart catfish cook.

But a few more - musicians and listeners alike - showed up the next year and the event quickly outgrew its birthplace and was moved to the city's park and gazebo -until 1993 when it was just too much. So it moved in 1994 to IMW - the flea market.

Allen's death shocks city

By CHIP NEWTON
News Chief

AUBURNDALE - Carl Allen's death "totally shocked" his friends and family.

"He was fine just a few days ago," said Billie Tupper, Carl Allen's stepdaughter.

But Monday Allen didn't feel well enough to go to the Webster flea market and in the afternoon, after a trip "for errands," he said he was having trouble breathing. His wife Jewell had earlier tried to make him go to a doctor, but he refused, Tupper said.

So when he lay down after driving around town, Jewell called her husband's favorite doctor, who quickly called 911 and headed for the Allen residence.

Allen, still alive when rescuers arrived, was "worked on" by emergency medical personnel and transported to Winter Haven Hospital where doctors implanted a "temporary pacemaker," Tupper said. But it was too late.

Allen was pronounced dead about 1 a.m. Tuesday.

The festival came about because Allen decided admission to bluegrass festivals had become in the 1970s too expensive "for the working man." Rather than attempt to get bands to volunteer for a poor-man's festival, Allen figured -correctly - that musicians wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to compete for a championship. It worked.

But Allen's popularity isn't restricted to musicians.

Allen began Old-Timers' Day some years ago to honor the area's pioneers. Dozens would gather at the restaurant to remember the past, swap stories, and otherwise enjoy themselves. Allen himself always would be found moving from group to group, telling his own stories. He had lots of them.

This year's Old-Timers' Day was scheduled for April 21. It is not known whether the event will still be held.

"I don't know if Jewell's up to it," said Allen's stepdaughter, Billie Tupper. Her mother Jewell married Allen "about 32 years ago," Tupper said.

"He was a great dad," she said.

"I always knew I could call him, any time of the day or night, if I needed something, and he'd take care of me."

It was hard watching Allen age, Tupper said. "He didn't act old. I had to remind myself he was getting old. He was always on the go."

Tupper is lucky, she said. "I've had two dads." Her "other father" lives in Lakeland and "I love him a lot, too," she said.

Allen's head waitress Wanda Pena said her boss was a "wonderful man to work for."

"He'd help you in any way he could," she said. "He was like a father to me, too. I'll never leave Mrs. Allen."