What's in a Surname?

On April 3^rd, 2019, after years of contemplating, I went down to the St. Johns County Court House and appeared before Judge John M. Alexander to restore my legal name. When I was born, my name was Richard Mark Allison and on April 3^rd, I restored it back to that name. My mother, Donna and my father, Billy Joe Allison were married at very young ages. He was 21 and she was only 19 years old. A year later, I was born. Shortly thereafter, they divorced.

My mother quickly remarried a man from Sardis, Mississippi named Hillman Johnson. They were married when I was only two years old, so as you can imagine, Hillman was the father that I grew up with and the only father that I knew. Hillman and my mother went on to have three children together named Sharri, David and Gary. Unfortunately, my brother David was killed in a car wreck at age 32 back in 1993. Hillman passed away a few years later in 1996 at the age 57 of cancer. I miss them both dearly.

I can vividly remember my first day of school at Meadowcliff Elementary School when my mother pulled me aside and told me that she had changed my name to Richard Allison Johnson. I also remember crying about it. I didn’t like it at all. I knew my name to be Richard Mark Allison and I didn’t want my name to change. Truth be told, I have been mad about it ever since. I always had a problem with my name being changed. Looking back, I had a hard time believing that my father Bill signed off on an adoption when I was six years old. I was told on more than one occasion that I was adopted by Hillman Johnson. I never really thought to ask Hillman about it. I just took my mother’s word for it.

A few years ago, I looked into the process for legally changing my name. In St. Johns County, the court’s instructions said that I had to get the original court order of any previous name change if I was wanting to restore a former name. A few years ago, I decided to contact the State of Arkansas and get a copy of the court order for what I thought would be my adoption papers where my name was changed. When I got the court order, I was stunned by what I found. I was never adopted. My mother simply had changed my name. All this time, I had thought that I was adopted. My mother didn’t change it when I was in the first grade, either. She changed it when I was about to go into Catholic High School for Boys when I was almost 15 years old! Everything that I had been told about when my name was changed, the fact that I was adopted, how Bill Allison had signed off on the adoption, all of these statements were simply not true. Even my sister Tami Allison thought that I was adopted. Tami had told me how upset my father was when my name was changed. He had just moved to Arkansas around this time, too. I’m not sure if that was a factor, or whether my mother had to change it to get me into Catholic High. My elementary and junior high records were under Richard Allison Johnson and I needed to have that name in order to gain admittance into Catholic High. That is my best guess.

Quite simply, I was flabbergasted by what I had discovered. Of course, my first thoughts were the universe needs to be restored and that meant that my birth name needed to be restored. However, I did not want to hurt the feelings of my mother. I am sure she thought she was doing the best thing for me. Plus, I did not want to hurt my Johnson siblings by them jumping to conclusions that I was favoring my Allison siblings over them. So, I gave it all very thoughtful deliberation. I spent a couple of years thinking about it, in fact. I finally came to the conclusion that it has nothing to do with my mother, or my Johnson or Allison siblings. My first son’s name was Reese Cannon Johnson and he died of SIDS in 1989 and I certainly gave a lot of thought to restoring my former name, because of him, too. After, all I could not change Reese’s last name, or rightfully expect my wife Natalie, son Marshall and daughter Rudi to change their names, because of what at first glance may seem like a “hair brained idea” to most people. In the end, my reason for changing my name is out of respect for my father Billy Joe Allison. Pure and simple. He was a true American hero and I think most anyone would agree with me learning the facts about his life.

My father Bill joined the Army in February of 1950 when he was only 15 years old. He joined the Army and quickly went off to fight in the Korean War. Imagine serving in the Korean War as a teenager! All Korean War Veterans received medals and decorations not only from the U.S., but also from the Republic of Korea (South Korea) and the United Nations. Bill served eleven months and eighteen days in Korea. I am still trying to piece together his Korean War Army record, because as some of you may be aware, there was a fire in St. Louis that destroyed almost all the Army records prior to 1973. As a result, I am on a scavenger hunt looking for clues.

My father was born in Cabot, Arkansas and after serving six years and six months in the Army, he decided to join the Air Force as his marriage with my mother was ending. I am still investigating this fact, but I believe that he literally walked out of the Army right into the Air Force without much time in between on September 10, 1956. I was born about two weeks after he joined the Air Force. Bill was awarded several medals and decorations during his time in the military. He spent a total of ten years, six months and six days serving his country which amounted to a significant portion of his life as you will see later.

There were a lot of family dynamics in place in September of 1956 that kind of forced Bill and Donna towards divorce. About all my mother would ever tell me about it was there was some infidelity involved and that was her reason for getting a divorce. However, I do believe my grandfather was a major influence too. He was the domineering type. I am sure that he did not want his 20-year-old and only daughter to leave Arkansas and her family with a new born baby.

Bill Allison, like my mother, remarried right away. He married his second wife Margaret also when I was two years old. This was not exactly the activity of a womanizing philanderer. If he was that kind of individual, he would have never jumped into another marriage. Instead, he would have spent his 20’s chasing women, don’t you think? This did not happen. I am sure my mother was heartbroken at the time that her marriage to Bill didn’t work out, but in retrospect, there are a whole lot of people in both the Johnson and Allison families that would have never existed if they did not get divorced. Children and grandchildren specifically. Think about that for a moment. Sometimes things happen for a reason. A lot of very good people came into being as a result of Bill and Donna’s divorce, so their divorce turned out to be a blessing! It was all part of God’s plan.

When Bill was in the Air Force, he was an aircraft electrician and mechanic. I am still researching this fact, but I believe that he was stationed at Big Springs Air Force Base which was later renamed to Webb Air Force Base in Big Springs, Texas. Bill met Margaret while in Big Springs and they had their first child, Tami. After a short stint in Midland, Texas, they moved to Arroyo Grande, California to be with the rest of Bill’s family. Bill and Margaret went on to have a son named Jon and another daughter named Kelly who were both born in California. After moving to Arroyo Grande, Bill became a police officer. After several years, the Chief of Police position became available in a nearby city, Grover Beach and my father applied for it and was awarded the job. Now you and I both know that not just anyone gets a Chief of Police position. There has to be a lot of good qualities to get a job like that. Leadership, respect among peers and others, not to mention the politics involved. Obviously, Bill Allison fit those requirements and knew how to navigate the political aspect of it.

As I was growing up in the Johnson family, I never had any contact with Bill Allison. I suspect it was because my mother, in her mind, was protecting me in some way. I can understand that, but how I wish it was not that way. Her relationship with him was so short, so I always wondered, what did she really know about him? After all, they were not even married for two years. Her knowledge of him had to be very limited. My mother was not the source of information that I needed.

When I was starting high school, Bill Allison accepted the Chief of Police job in Camden, Arkansas. I was told later by my sister Tami that he wanted to have a relationship with me when I turned eighteen years of age. His wife Margaret also verified this fact to me. At that point, I would be free to make my own decisions. Of course, I would have loved to have met my father and gotten to know him. Unfortunately, it was not to be.  He passed away when I was finishing my senior year of high school. I was 17 years old at the time. Bill was only 39 years old when he died. I will never forget his funeral. If you have never seen a police officer’s funeral in person, let me tell you it is quite a spectacle. The thing that made such an impression on me at the time was the local police and especially, the Arkansas State Police in attendance. It was quite an impressive turnout. It was like all of the Arkansas State Police was at his funeral.

This was the only time that I was able to see my father. My first encounter with him was when he was lying in that casket with his Chief of Police uniform on. I touched him and immediately began to cry. I cried for what was lost between us. The missed opportunity. We were both in the State of Arkansas. So close, yet so far away. Bill did not get a chance to meet me as he had hoped and planned on. Tami had told me one time that whenever they had talked about the three kids in the Allison family, he would always correct them and remind them that there was one more Allison kid, …Ricky.

 Being born in 1934, a soldier in Korea in the early 1950’s, and a paratrooper, these Army guys tended to smoke cigarettes. A lot of cigarettes in fact. Of course, cigarettes back then were not very good for you as we all know today. He smoked as a teenager until his death at age 39 when he died from atherosclerosis. He was having chest pains while at Oaklawn Park in Hot Springs, Arkansas and they took him to the hospital. The doctors at the hospital told him that he had a heart attack and he was going to have to change his diet, quit smoking and reduce stress. When they came back into his hospital room later to check on him, he had died. His parents requested an autopsy, because they could not believe it. After all, 39-year old men do not drop dead ordinarily. That kind of thing that had not happened before in the Allison family tree. I got a copy of the autopsy report myself, because I wanted to see it, too. If this would have happened to him today, they would have put a few stents in him, or done bypass surgery and he still would have been around, but it was 1974. Things were different back then. The sad reality.

Imagine if you will, growing up wanting to know your father, but never having the opportunity. Let me tell you. It is an awful feeling. All I ever got out of my mother was the infidelity story. I have never been swayed that he was a bad person. His actions prove otherwise. I knew in my heart that he was not a bad person. In my mind, he was instead the opposite of that, an American hero. The fact that I never knew or met my father has always been a black hole in my life. I’ve always called it “the black hole”, because there is so much information that I would love to know. In an attempt to try and fill this black hole, I went about trying to piece things together on my own. It first started well over twenty years ago when I reached out to my Aunt Betty. I wrote her a letter and said that I would like to meet my sisters, Tami, Kelly and brother Jon Allison. We ended up meeting and it was kind of like the show Long Lost Family, if you have ever watched it.

Like any family, the Allison side of my family has had our share of tragedies. Tami died at age 53 of Lupus and other complications and in March of 2019, my 54-year-old brother Jon died of a heart attack. Jon was a smoker and I cannot tell you how many times that I told him to quit smoking, but to no avail. It is hard to quit those cigarettes. They killed my father and now my brother Jon. About four years ago, Jon had major bypass surgery, but shortly thereafter, resumed his smoking. Jon was such a sweet soul and loved golfing, fishing and his little dog Whoopi. I probably have 500 pictures of that stinking dog in my phone. I went to California with my sister Kelly the first week of May for his Celebration of Life ceremony. Jon was so happy to have a big brother and I was so happy to be his big brother. The last time that I texted Jon was on the anniversary of our dad’s death. I had sent him a picture of our dad that I had edited with Adobe Photoshop. How’s that for goosebumps? Perhaps, our dad wanted to bring him home.

His Celebration of Life was sad at first but ended well as I got to meet his close friends and hear a lot of stories about Jon’s life in California. He had some good friends, a lot of whom were British guys. He used to work at some British Auto shops there in San Luis Obispo and those guys came over to Dena’s house (Jon’s wife) and told some stories and shared some laughs. I wish I could have visited Jon more often. The miles between us made it difficult.

Now, let me ask you something. What if your father wanted to serve his country and joined the Army at the age of 15? What if he knew a war was going on yet joined the Army anyway? What if you knew he was a brave-as-they-come paratrooper who jumped out of those airplanes probably built in the 1940’s? What if he was a decorated Korean War Veteran with a 10 plus year military career? What if your father spent the rest of his life in law enforcement and he was the Chief of Police in not one, but two different cities? Finally, what if you knew he was a dedicated family man and loved his children, even a son that he never knew?

Let me ask you. If you were his son, wouldn’t you be proud to bear his surname of Allison? I have a Bachelor of Arts in Criminal Justice that I earned at age 60 in honor of him and his dedication to his career in law enforcement. Today, I have the honor and privilege of bearing his last name once again. I am the son of an American hero. Why shouldn’t I be proud of that? Now you know why I changed my name back to Richard Mark Allison. The universe has been restored to its former glory.

Richard Mark Allison

Proud son of Billy Joe Allison

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Jon Terry Allison's Roots

Back in 1675, a man was born in Londonderry, Northern Ireland by the name of John Allison. He grew up and married a Scottish gal by the name of Jennet Helmer. One day, they decided to come to the British Colonies and settled in Lancaster County in the Pennsylvania Colony. They had 7 children, one of whom was named William Allison. They were Presbyterians.

Their son, William Allison was also born in Londonderry, Northern Ireland settled in the same Lancaster County area and married a lady name Grizzell and they had 6 children, one of whom was named John Robert Allison.

John Robert Allison was named after his grandfather John and his uncle Robert. He married a lady whom they called “Mattie” and they had 14 children together. They moved away from Lancaster County and made their home in Hillsborough, North Carolina Colony. One of their children was named Joseph H. Allison.

Joseph H. Allison was a Lieutenant in the Revolutionary War and helped secure America’s freedom. He married three times and had 17 children in all. He and most of his family moved to White County, Tennessee, but left behind his son, Joseph Stuart Allison who chose to stay in Hillsborough, North Carolina.

Joseph Stuart Allison was a General in the North Carolina State Militia. He married a lady whom they called “Patsy” and they had 11 children, one of whom was named John James Allison.

John James Allison became a Medical Doctor and moved to Comanche County, Texas. They called him Dr. J.J. Allison. He married a lady named Mary and they had 9 children together, one of whom was named William L. S. Allison.

William L.S. Allison was a member of the Texas Rangers Frontier Battalion in Brownwood, Texas. He married a lady named Julia. They moved to Hattieville, Arkansas and one day after going to the general store, William never came home. It was thought he was killed by the Indians, but no one knew for sure. William and Julia had one child named John Washington Allison. The Allison family tree almost ended right here. But God had a plan.

John Washington Allison lived in Hattieville, Arkansas, married a lady whom they called “Cassie” and they had two children together, one of whom was my grandfather Terry Francis Allison. My brother Jon bears his middle name. John Washington Allison remarried and had 6 more children with his second wife whom they called Lizzie. They all lived in Arkansas at the time.

Terry Francis Allison met his wife, Ollie, my grandmother in Arkansas. They had four children together, Eva Dean, Betty, Billy Joe and Nancy. Eventually, they moved to Arroyo Grande, California and they all had children of their own. Billy Joe married my mother Donna at a very young age and their marriage did not last long. Only a year or two in fact. However, this was meant to be.

It is strange how God has a plan for all of us.

When I think about my great-great grandfather William L.S. Allison going off to the general store and never coming back, I have to wonder… what if he didn’t have his son John Washington Allison before he died? He was an only child. The Allison family would have ended right there, but God had a plan.

My maternal grandmother Ollie is pictured above along with my grandfather Terry. Her father Francis Utley fell off a wagon and died from a broken neck when he was only 22. His wife, my great-grandmother Nancy was pregnant at the time with my grandmother Ollie who ended up marrying my grandfather Terry Allison. They had a son name Billy Joe Allison who was Jon, Tami, Kelly and my father. What if Ollie’s mother was not pregnant at that precise time? The Allison family would have ended right there and I would have never existed. But God had a plan.

What if my mom didn’t get that divorce from Billy Joe Allison, then all the children and grandchildren that have followed would have never existed, but God had a plan.

God’s plan was for Billy Joe Allison to marry Margaret Bryson, the woman he was meant to be with. Bill and Margaret had three children together. Tami, Jon and Kelly. God’s plan was that he wanted Tami to be born along with her children Alyssa and Teri. Also included in God’s plan was Kelly and her 3 children Devin, Jace and Joe plus, Devin and Jace’s 5 children. And, of course, God wanted Jon to be born so he could marry Dena so they could have their son Riley (pictured left).

It is at times like these that we tend to question things. Why did this have to happen? Why did Jon have to die at this young age of 54? It was simply, God’s plan. Jon had an effect on all of us and he will continue to have an effect on us for as long as we live. We will cherish his memories and remember the times we had with him. His imprint on our hearts will be everlasting. He had a lot of friends that I met at his Celebration of Life. It was an honor to meet them. Especially, Casey, Todd, Terry, Dean, Darrin, Phil, Scott, Brian F., Martin, Scott, his brother Brian and the many others.

Well over 20 years ago, I wrote a letter to my Aunt Betty wanting to meet my sisters, Tami, Kelly and brother Jon. I thought it was pretty stupid to have two sisters and a brother out there somewhere and not have a relationship with them. Well, we all met way back then and it is one of the best decisions that I ever made. We kept in touch ever since until fate intervened. My sister Tami passed away in 2014 at the age of 53 and now Jon at age 54.

Jon (pictured left) and I went fishing together one time and I had not been fishing in a while. I caught a 2lb 2oz bass and man oh man, I was so proud of myself. But, Jon, being the expert fisherman that he was, promptly reeled in a 5lb 5oz bass and put me to shame! He got his picture in the paper! If you ever want to feel puny. Put a 2lb bass up next to a 5lb one.

Those of you who knew Jon know he was good as gold. His friend Todd told me they talked about his belief in God. He was a believer. He loved to play golf and fish and he was very proud of his son Riley and loved Dena more than she probably knows. But, the one that he loved the most was of course was Whoopi. Whoopi liked to play golf and go fishing, too. I think I have about 500 pictures of Whoopi in my iPhone that Jon texted to me. Pictured to the left are me and Dena, Jon's sweet wife and of course, Whoopi at Jon's Celebration of Life event.

This will give you goose bumps. The last day I texted Jon was on the anniversary of our dad’s death, February 19th. I had Photoshop-ed an old picture of our dad in his Arroyo Grande police uniform and I wanted him to have it. I was going to surprise him soon, because until recently, my name was Richard Allison Johnson, but on April 3^rd, I changed my name back to the name I was born with, Richard Mark Allison. I told Jon that I was thinking about doing it awhile back, but I wish I would have told him that I actually did it. This is my silly regret.

My sister Kelly asked me if I wanted to go to a San Diego Padres game after Jon's Celebration of Life event. She didn’t know that me and Jon went to a Padres game together. I have to think Jon arranged that baseball game for us. He knows how much I love baseball and Kelly, too.

Anyway, I have rambled on enough. Just wanted to let each and every one of you know that God has a plan for all of you. You are all very important to your family and all the descendants that will follow in your family tree. Just look what has happened since John and Jennet Allison came to the Pennsylvania Colony way back in the late 1600’s. It is simply amazing and of course, God's plan.

Thank you and God Bless you.

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