Dorothy, I am so sorry for your loss. Your in my thoughts and prayers. Wilma Blankenship

I worked on the same Platoon with Chester on the Johnson City Police Department. In the 28 years I was there, I never worked with a better man or a finer Officer. My condolences to his wife and family.

I LOVE YOU ALL

As you grow older, you lose memories of your childhood, and older you start to lose memories of your adulthood. It's painful what life can take away but sharing what memories we have with each other help keep them alive. I spent what would seem like an unusual amount of time with my extended family compared to most who live a thousand miles away. But, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to visit every break from school when I was a kid. I remember Uncle Chet's good attitude, his unselfishness, and joking nature. To me, he was a teacher, leader, and friend. He knew how to work hard and care for his family, and he taught that lesson to everyone who came in contact with him. As any kid loves to do, I enjoyed the occasional rough house, and the feeling of flying. Uncle Chet used to hold me up as to imitate flight. My favorite would be by cupping my ears on both sides and lifting me up. It was unknown to me, at hat time, the strength it takes to lift an 8 year old child. I can now appreciate both his physical strength and even more so his emotional strength. You are forever in our thoughts and prayers. Thank you for looking over us all, now and in life forever after.

Just wanted to send thoughts and prayers to the family..for your loss!!Chester was a good friend of mine...

So sorry to hear about Chester.Tom and always remember him as a jovial smiling gentle man .He was such a generous person and kind to everyone.We have many funny stories involving Chester and remember them fond,y.Please accept our sympathy "

I loved Chester Like a brother and a father being a part of his wonderful life and family is and will be a blessing always in my life He was just so much fun to be around He loved the Lord. I will see this wonderful sweet man in Heaven and I can't wait, God Bless Dorothy and Barbara i will stop by when in Johnson city, Love , Timmy Fann

Chester Allen, or Chet, as we fondly called him was my oldest brother. I was the last child and yes, I was the baby. There were three distinct gaps of ages between the six of us surviving. As a young child, Chet spoiled me with candy and beautiful tissues of colors and glitter and stars. A Christmas fanatic was born because I wrapped everything in sight. I finally wised up and found the smaller the boxes, the longer the tissue paper would last and then I started having my own mini tree each year with miniature boxes wrapped with tiny bows. For some reason I have no idea why, I was terrified as a young child to go upstairs alone and my parents couldn’t get me to go to bed upstairs, so they finally gave in and when everyone went to bed, Chet would carry me up asleep and put me to bed. Chet had a wonderfully mischievous sense of humor with a laugh or chuckle that bent you double. You never knew what little pun he had just waiting for the conversation, but you knew there would be one, followed by that smile and laugh you just knew he loved to show off. He was also something of a prankster and could tell stories that you really couldn’t tell if they were true or BS and he laughed when he fooled us into believing every word he had said was true. That dry wit and humor were there until the end. Eventually I grew up and moved away and didn’t keep in touch as much as I should have. That is my biggest regret and that is perhaps the lesson of life that we should always try to practice. Keep in touch with family and don’t hesitate to take a risk, because one day it may be too late. Regrets suck. I learned early on that my larger-than-life brother was invincible. He could do anything, make anything he set his head to and thrive on making whatever he chose to make, be it a pipe, a knife, a flywheel, weld and fix things that seemed broken but he made workable again. I can’t even begin to guess how many times he rebuilt this trike that had been passed down through my sibs but he always took care to fix it as soon as I whined. But his real talent was his marksmanship with most any weapon he chose. I remember as a youngster him teaching me how to reload shell casings, taught me how to cut out wood things on his bandsaw. The probably one and only time he was really, really, mad at me was when I was about twelve and he gave me a brief overview of driving the tractor attached to a hay bailer and a really, long wagon. I missed his wild hand motions on trying to avoid cutting the corner too close because I was concentrating on doing just that and I badly misjudged and the front angle of the wagon went under the hay baler and tore something up with a fierce and scary sound. I stopped the tractor and looked at him. His face was red, really, really red and I could tell he was biting his tongue but he never said a word, just motioned for me to get off and he took my place and backed me out of my predicament and repaired what I had damaged, which was pretty serious and took him a while to fix. I was never asked to drive again and to this day, I have a fear of driving anything longer than a mid-SUV. Suburban’s, not a chance, pull behind trailers, heck no, a full-size RV, that would be a HELL NOâ€"not back then, not now, not ever. That was one lesson that stuck. I married and we had a beautiful daughter, Christina and a handsome son, Daniel. A second set of grandchildren were born and they loved to spend every free minute at the homestead or at Chet’s. My children seemed to bring such joy to my parents, brother and sisters. Having children around makes you younger. My children learned a lot of lessons at the hands of my brother, my sisters and my parents. I remember a tender moment when we had come home as a family for what event, I cannot remember, but baby Daniel, just a few months old was suffering from an earache and fussy and inconsolable and Chet took him and went upstairs where it was quiet and I found them about a half hour later, Chet contentedly rocking and Daniel fast asleep. Chet looked up from Daniel to me and smiled a great big smile. That was a moment I would never forget and a tender side of my brother that I had never seen. Every vacation, every holiday, they went to Tennessee. Every summer was spent in Tennessee and they always came home with a decidedly Tennessee country accent. Then my daughter blessed us with our first granddaughter, Chesnee and a generation of great grandchildren was born. By then, my mother, my sister, Elizabeth and my father were deceased, but Barbara and Chet doted on Ches, as I nicknamed her. She loved her time in Tennessee and it was quite the adventure for her. Both Barbara and Chet had livestock, horses, mules, dogs and shops to build whatever inspired them and she enjoyed the freedom to learn how to drive Chet and his dog Rowdy around his farm. Unfortunately, Chesnee’s half-sister Audrey never had the opportunity to meet Chet in person. Many of Chet’s friends have preceded his death but many more are still here. We all have our unique memories and can be thankful that we knew him in our own special way. Right now, I imagine Chet has strolled around heaven reuniting with beloved family and friends. I love and miss you, bro, but I know you are in a better place. I am at peace knowing that. Until we meet again, Love Carol.