Yes It Is, It’s True: An inspiring, tragic story of Allen Armintrout

The story of Allen Armintrout is both an inspiration and a tragedy.

Allen was born profoundly deaf, but overcame his handicap to live a remarkably normal and meaningful life, marked by genuinely caring service to others. A longtime resident of Moline, he graduated from Wayland High School in 1965 and went on to earn his bachelor’s degree from Baptist Bible College, now Cornerstone University.

His service was as a teacher of sign language and his ability to assist the hearing impaired was recognized for 34 years with the Allegan County Department of Human Services. He helped a lot of people facing the same kind of obstacles he did.

I personally remember him because he and I attended Wayland High School around the same time. He was very popular because he was very kind to everyone, yet he sometimes was shunned because people were uncomfortable when they could not understand him as he spoke. Therefore, he often was seen with a small notepad in his shirt pocket, which he wrote on when he concluded you didn’t understand what he was saying.

I got to know him fairly well, and in my sophomore year rode in the back seat of 1957 Plymouth with others to attend the famous Allegan-Wayland Class B district tournament basketball game in which Ron Kidney put on a spectacular show.

Because I was, and still am, quite a jerk in imitating and mocking people, I became quite adept at speaking like Allen to get cheap laughs. During my politically incorrect and admittedly offensive exercise, however, I discovered that because I imitated him, I understood what he was saying better than most.

The result was that when Allen would meet people or speak with teen-agers in my presence, I would act as translator for them, speeding the process along and eliminating his need to fish into his pocket for his writing pad.

It seemed Allen noticed that I understood him better than others so we forged a mild friendship, even after both of us graduated from high school. He even visited me at Grand Valley State once.

I didn’t fully understand the situation then, but after all these years I’ve come to the conclusion that I very likely was Allen’s pet project. He wanted to save me.

Allen was a devout fundamentalist Christian and a member of the Wayland Calvary Church and Moline Baptist Church. He was a morally upright chap.

I recall Wayland police officer Eldon (Shorty) Millheim stopping to chat with us downtown and asking, “You buying tonight, Al?”

Allen responded with one of the loudest laughs I’ve ever heard and his quick rejoinder, “I don’t drink.”

There were many times Allen came to see me at my parents’ Wayland house and he laid out the entire case for the rapture. At that time, I didn’t know anything about it, so he provided me with an education.

He very clearly laid out the promise of a great battle, Armageddon, between the forces of good and evil and Jesus coming back to Earth. So now that billboard just north of town that said, “Jesus is coming soon!” made sense. And he told of the prediction of Christians being elevated into heaven.

Allen was working on me off and on in 1967 and 1968, hoping I would come to Jesus.

I think he finally gave up in August 1968, when he ran into me and two of my college friends walking around stoned on marijuana at the Wayland Centennial celebration. I don’t think Allen was aware we were high, but he certainly noticed the long-haired appearance of my friends. He gestured toward one of them and asked me, “Is he a hippie?”

I ran into Allen occasionally after that, but only for a hello and brief conversation.

It turned out that when my daughter took a college course in sign language, she was assigned to talk to him and they both figured out who I was.

Allen died of pancreatic cancer in December 2013 at age 69. He was very successful and heroic in his accomplishments, but I was the fish that got away.