Benny Allen: The Enigma
Over the years, people have asked me about Benny Allen. Since I started posting these old pictures on social media his name has come up again.
When the Saltfleet High School Karate Club was sent to train at the Ottawa Street club in Hamilton each summer, I first met Benny Allen. He was seated behind a desk, cigarette in hand, his gaze fixed intently on the class. The room was alive with energy—black belts and colored belts moving in unison through punishing punching and kicking drills. At the front, Dwayne Watson held a deep kiba-dachi stance, fists driving forward, kiai echoing off the walls. A puddle of sweat gathered beneath him. Every gi in the room was drenched.
Then Benny rose. Quietly, almost unassumingly, he stepped onto the floor. His presence shifted the room instantly. He didn’t bark orders or demand attention; instead, he moved with calm authority. He would pull a student aside and begin demonstrating technique. Sometimes he gently connected with the student and guided the students hands and arms through the motions while constantly speaking. —each motion deliberate, each adjustment subtle. The exchange became less about technique and more about sensing rhythm, balance, and energy. The student seemed drawn into a trance-like state, entirely focused on matching Benny’s movements.
At the time, I didn’t realize what he was doing. Years later, it struck me: Benny was quietly inducing a state of heightened awareness, then introducing his techniques in that fragile, receptive space. He was teaching martial arts on a level that went beyond physical.
Many black belts were forged under the guidance of Benny Allen and his sensei Masami Tsuruoka. The next generation were Frank Wishart, Tony Facetti, Teddy Marton and the great Wally Sloki.
Yet Benny himself remained an enigma. By 1973, he began withdrawing from the mainstream karate world. He never sought the spotlight but instead traveled quietly, visiting his students’ dojos, offering seminars, and leaving behind fragments of his brilliance.
Benny Allen was like a shooting star—brilliant, brief, and unforgettable. He lit the path for many martial artists, then faded away.