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I never met Mr. Willis Allen. But I do know that what is generally written about a man is in fact the man. The memorials written about him reflect a person I would have liked to have known: A person that can give a rookie the confidence to continue; a person that is loved; and a person that helped polo in California grow to a higher standard and class. SDPC has obviously benefited greatly to have such a big hearted and kind person backing its growth. I offer my humble condolences to his family and friends. Such a life is to be celebrated long after it has ridden into the sunset. Dirk A. Wray

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Willis Allen - truly one of a kind.  Though I haven't seen you for several years, I think of you often - always associated with polo, good sportsmanship, and camaraderie.  When I asked you the secret of your longevity, you said "A good game of polo and a little tequila afterwards with my friends".  I think you'll always be with us, certainly your wisdom will.   You taught us to live life honorably and to the fullest.     God Bless You, Willis Allen - we will miss you.  Tina Robinson (former Lakeside Polo Club member)
 
P.S.  Thanks for the tip on the benefits of short, fast horses.

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I first met Willis Allen, playing on the opposing team, as a teenager in the late '60s, at Sue Sally Hale's Sleepy Hollow Polo Club in the Carmel Valley. In the mid-70's, while at law school in San Diego, I was a weekend fixture out at the Hering Ranch in Lakeside. There I got to know Willis a great deal better, and even visited the Allen ranch near Tecate with him and Ruthie and Bud and Dorothy Hering. One of my favorite pictures is of Willis, Bud Hering and myself, the winning team of a little tournament that we held at the Lakeside Club in about 1976, --or me, getting the oppotrunity to play polo with two of the greatest polo players and men that I have ever had the privilege of knowing. They truly broke the mold when they made men like Bud Hering and Willis Allen--we will not see their like again. Steve Muni

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Willis Allen will always has a special place in my heart. He was a good friend of my dad. Willis would see me wanting to play running after my dad. Then, one day they were a player short and he asked me to get his horse Little Bit so I could play. That was the very first time I played a real polo game. After that he was always helping me improve my game and taught me lots of new things. I love Willis and so does the Questel Family. Rest in Peace because your spirit will always live in all our hearts. - Francisco Questel Jr.  

If you would like to post a personal message in memory of Willis Allen on this Virtual Memorial please e-mail your submission to feedback@polobarn.com.

Willis was my Dad’s best friend. They played polo together for the better parts of six decades, from the 30’s through the 80’s. I’ve attached a picture of Willis with team captain Jess Mc Millin in the middle and my father Bud Hering on the right, taken before one of their infamous “low tide” matches in front of the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club in 1940

In retrospect, I think Willis was everybody’s best friend. There was never an unimportant person in his life. He made us all feel special. He loved the Lakeside Polo Club and we loved him. He would ride up to a prospective new member or visitor before the first chukker and tell them quietly “ this is a friendly club, we play hard and have fun but we don’t holler, we only give encouragement”. He always had a kind word and a bit of wisdom to share, like “remember, you can pass the ball faster than your horse can run”.

We will miss his wisdom, his friendly encouragement and most of all the sincerity of his friendship.

Christina Turley wrote a few words and a poem for him, that she’d like to share:

Willis, You are a Knight in Shining Armor, a First Class Guy, Larger than Life It Self ‘Specially when it came to Polo. No one can fill your shoes (boots?) or make fouls as well as you could. So here is a poem I have written for you:

THE BREEZE KEEPS COMING BY YOUR WINDOW ASKING,
ARE YOU READY?

THE BREEZE IS SO SOFT WHERE IT TOUCHES YOUR FACE
SURE, I’M READY YOU WHISPER BACK

TAKE MY SOUL, MY SPIRIT FOR A LONG RIDE IN THE BLUE YONDER
UP IN THE SKIES WHERE THE RIDES LAST FOREVER

WHERE THE SOUL, THE SPIRIT, THE WINDS AND THE BREEZE AND YOUR THOUGHTS ALL BECOME ONE

WHERE WE ALL CAN SAY A TRUE GOODBYE FOREVER

Those are beautiful words when you think about them. It’s comforting to know that Willis is now up there with old polo friends the way it used to be with Bud and Renee (my mother) and Willis and Ruthie and all those others who have gone on before him.

So long Ol’ Buddy, we’ll try to carry on in the spirit and tradition that you instilled in us. - Sincerely, Kip Hering - Lakeside Polo Club

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ART CAMPBELL's MEMORIES of WILLIS ALLEN, SR. - Unaware I was on the field with a legend, a couple of years ago I played polo at Hering Ranch, Lakeside. It was my virgin* a word Willis loved* game. Riding my Arab stallion, I was easily bested in every ride-off and mallet-duel by a grizzled man who rode a speedy black mare. In desperation I once hooked his mallet and held it so he couldn't swing again. Rather than curse me or yell I was breaking a rule, he tore loose his mallet and thrust it viciously into my stallion's groin! In astonishment I shouted, "What the hell are you doing!?" The scowling man yelled, "If you won't play by the rules, then don't expect me to!"

After the chukka he rode over to me, introduced himself with a smile. It was Willis Allen, Sr. aged ninety-one! I apologized for my ice-hockey hooking, admitted I hadn't yet learned all the rules. He honored me, saying he did what he did because he thought me a seasoned player who'd chosen to flout the rule. When I confessed I'd never played polo before that day, he became my mentor and friend.

Most weekends for the last two years we played polo games with and against each other. It took me a year to occasionally out-maneuver his mallet or mare for the ball* the game's highlight for me. During pre- and post-game times I'd hang out with him and others on his wooden tack-shed porch. He regaled us with stories about horses, people, polo, and life, usually hiding his wisdom in pithy one-liners and off-color jokes.

On weekdays at least once a week Willis drove fifty miles round trip from La Jolla to Hering Ranch. When I'd spot him there we'd play stick and ball, sometimes charging downfield in impromptu fantasy games. The hours spent riding and talking with him were like being with the father I wish I'd had.

Three weeks before he died, I stood with my Arab in the mouth of the polo goal while Willis fired penalty shots at me from his mare. At first I blocked most his shots and got cocky, mouthing an announcer's commentary about winning a high-stakes game. It was suddenly clear he'd only been hitting me easy shots* as he blasted balls in front, behind, and under my horse before I could even ready my stick!

Was there ever a man of his wealth and power with such self-deprecating reasons for same? ("Well, I just got lucky and had some good friends.") Was there ever a man of his years with such insatiable joi de vivre? ("So many women, so little time!") Was there ever a man with so many offspring so willing to adopt one more? - Art Cambell

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"I got it! I got it! I got it!" (a swing and a miss--he rarely missed)."I don't got it!" Willis, polo player and friend. You will be missed. - David Boaz

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Willis’s Essentials by Mary Miichele Mulvihill

A free afternoon. Hoof picker. Bridle. A green-broke filly he’s partial to. 

Boots & mallet. Three fit, tuned ponies raring to go. A clear tail shot for a goal. 

Fresh load of hay. Fellow horse lovers to shoot the breeze. A comfy place to take a snooze.

Dreams of trails unblazed, ready for another day.

A leg up if your luck is down. Unassuming kindness. Humor. Common sense.

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I remember one day being at a Super Bowl party at Harry's house, when I was about 15. (That was 33 years ago). I was milling about in the throes of teenage boredom. Once the game came on, Willis said to me, I have to go exercise my horses, do you want to come ? I hesitated, though I was no fan of football, I didn't really have the hang of ponying and I was a little scared. It's a beautiful day to ride (which every day was to him), he said. Too pretty to stay inside. Come on, you can ride Ruthie.So I went.

It WAS a beautiful day, and a beautiful ride. Each off us ponied two horses and- everybody behaved themselves. There had been a lot rain and the hills had turned green. As we were galloping across the mesa in Sorrento Valley, (in the days before it was developed and he had his little stable in the gulley there), he looked over at my beaming face, my long hair streaming behind me, and, with that twinkle in his eye, smiled at me and said, wryly, "You know, there's a lot of things in life that are better than T.V." I nodded happily in agreement, and we rode on. To this day, I don't really like T.V. Mary Michele Mulvihill (Harry Collins niece)

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I would like to share a few pieces of Willis' character that I will always remember. I should only list a few, but the hope is to convey a glimpse of what made this man so special.

Notice Willis' right hand, how age and use have made it difficult to shake your hand, or sign a check, that's cause for the last few decades his right hand was locked in a way to best hold a polo mallet.

I knew Willis for many years before realizing his home was just like him, was just where you would expect it to be yet filled with the unexpected. Hidden just down the road from downtown La Jolla his residence had a several acre green pasture, a mini-polo arena, an orchard, tennis court, pool, gardens, barns, all typical of his many magic kingdoms.

You would think a mogul couldn't maintain a rigorous practice schedule. On the occasions I'd join him on one of his daily work-outs I found it hard to keep up. Every morning Willis would hook up his trailer, load his horse and trek off to stick and ball at the nearest flat field be it all-the-way up to Rancho, or just over the hill, next to some business park in Sorrento Valley.

That practice was always after his early morning walk with his dog at La Jolla Shores, again emphasizing Everyday! Lets not forget his companion dog, which accompanied him everywhere. The last few generations that I can remember: Bud, Boomer, Captain Bill, the beloved Josh, he was truly a one dog man.

A weekly routine would be to spend Tuesday nights down at his Baja ranch. The roads there were quite rugged and prone to washouts in the winter, hence his vehicle of choice was a Subaru 4x4 car, just perfect for a man, his dog, a saddle and maybe a guest.

He also had a keen eye for business opportunities beyond land and polo. Take for instance his ideas to setup a radio tower in Baja to keep in touch with home, I think he bought the very first sat phone. Or, recall his ventures with diet supplements based on algae, hmm, polo after 90, maybe he was on to something.
You'd think with enough family to populate a small town he'd loose track of who was doing what. But he was always ready with an update on the fighter pilot
grandson, or the progress of a grand-daughter's medical research, or a teacher, or a student, or a new mother, or... He left no doubt how proud he was of them all.

Yesterday I glanced over to your tack barn before lining up the Lakeside chukkers, to see if you were ready to play. it will be a long time until I loose that habit. Let's go have some Tequila! - Steve Coblentz, Lakeside

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If you would like to post a personal message in memory of Willis Allen on this Virtual Memorial please e-mail your submission to feedback@polobarn.com.