What Existed Before Me: Part Two in the Truth About Jon Allen

In Part One, I shared my personal experience working under Jon H. Allen at Lake Hills Church—what I witnessed, what I endured, and the lasting impact of that time. It was not something I chose to speak about lightly. But there comes a point when silence stops functioning as protection and begins to serve something else entirely. I reached that point.

What I did not fully understand then was this: my experience did not stand alone. It did not begin with me, and it did not end with me.

As I began to look backward—carefully, deliberately, and with an awareness of the weight of what I might uncover—I found documentation that predates my involvement entirely. These are not secondhand accounts or memories shaped by time. They are contemporaneous records, created in real time by individuals close enough to recognize that something was wrong and serious enough to put it in writing.

The events reflected in these records occurred while Jon H. Allen was serving at University Baptist Church in Fayetteville, Arkansas. I was not part of that church. I had no connection to it at that time. My involvement came later, at Lake Hills Church, which he would go on to establish. This is not a minor detail—it is foundational. The concerns documented here cannot be attributed to my experience, nor can they be dismissed as a reaction to it. They existed independently, long before I entered the picture.

It is equally important to be precise about scope. This is not an indictment of University Baptist Church as a whole. Institutions are made up of individuals, and accountability must remain specific to conduct—not broadly assigned through association. The documentation points to actions connected to Jon H. Allen. That is where the focus remains.

At the center of these records is a transaction that should have been simple, transparent, and fully documented.

In December of 1991, a diamond was donated to the church. It was formally acknowledged and professionally appraised as a 1.06-carat round brilliant cut diamond, with clarity in the VS1–VS2 range and an assigned value of $4,500. That valuation was documented—not estimated, not informal. On December 21, 1991, Jon H. Allen, then serving as Pastor of Ministries, signed a letter acknowledging the donation and explicitly stating that value.

Up to that point, the record reflects what responsible stewardship should look like.

Then the clarity ends.

By June 22, 1993, internal correspondence shows that concerns had already been raised about how that same diamond was handled. The individual writing the letter documents repeated attempts—both written and verbal—to obtain records related to the sale of the asset. Those requests were not met with transparency. They were not met at all.

What was known is where the discrepancy emerges.

The diamond appraised at $4,500 was reportedly sold for $2,000.

That is not a marginal difference. It is a loss of more than half the documented value—and there is no accompanying documentation to explain how or why that occurred. In any setting where financial accountability is expected, that gap demands scrutiny.

It becomes more serious when considered alongside what else is missing.

According to the same correspondence, the sale was conducted without the involvement or oversight of the church’s finance office. There is no invoice. No independent verification of the sale price. No documented chain of custody. The proceeds were reportedly delivered by check from a jewelry business, yet no supporting records exist to confirm the details of the transaction.

This is not a paperwork issue.

It is a breakdown of accountability in a transaction that should have been fully traceable from beginning to end.

And the language used at the time reflects that reality. The concern was not framed as confusion or clerical oversight. The letter states plainly that the circumstances presented the potential for fraud or mishandling of church property and warranted legal investigation. That assessment was made in real time—not decades later, not through reinterpretation.

That is the context these records provide.

They do not establish a criminal finding. But they do establish something equally important: a pattern of concern rooted in documentation. A valuable asset. A significant discrepancy. A lack of transparency. A failure to produce records when directly requested.

Taken together, those elements are not easily dismissed.

Looking at this now, it becomes increasingly difficult to characterize my own experience as isolated. These records do not prove everything—but they do show that concerns about conduct and accountability existed before I was ever involved. That matters. It reframes the narrative from a single account to something more systemic, more enduring, and more serious.

Some names within these materials have been intentionally redacted. Not every person referenced bears responsibility, and responsible reporting requires restraint. The goal here is not to widen the circle unnecessarily, but to keep the focus where it belongs—on documented conduct and the absence of accountability surrounding it.

Stripped to its core, the record reflects this:

A valuable donation was entrusted. It was sold for less than half its documented value. And the documentation that should explain that discrepancy has never been produced.

That is not interpretation. That is the record.

I am sharing this because it provides context that did not exist for me at the time—and because the questions it raises deserve to be examined in the open. If there are records that clarify what happened, they should be produced. If there is additional context, it should be brought forward.

If you were part of University Baptist Church during this period, or if you have firsthand knowledge of how this transaction was handled, I am asking you to come forward.

This story did not begin with me.

But I am no longer willing to let it remain buried.

Read more here: https://substack.com/home/post/p-194411302