In Memoriam: William A. Johnson

June 6, 1946 – April 27, 2023

By Moristotle

Bill and Pamela Johnson were our neighbors for the first few years we lived in Mebane. We joined them for one of their family dinners, at which we (and my cousin André Duvall) met their children – Bill’s daughter Jen and son Nick, Pam’s son Luke Brouillard and daughter Eileen Gabrielli (and her husband Joe). And the Johnsons (along with neighbors Steve and Kathy Laughead) attended the party my wife threw for my 70^th birthday.
    Eventually (in 2015) I prevailed on Bill to write some pieces for Moristotle & Co., which left me wanting more, but I couldn’t get him to join the staff.
    In his first post, “Revelations of talk: And what they suggest,” on August 4, he described once helping a woman in therapy who said she “worried about everything, all the time.” Picking up on the revelations of her “everything” and “all the time,” Bill had her do a simple exercise that revealed the solution to her problem:

…“Set aside a two-hour period each day during which you will ‘worry about everything.’ Anything worrisome that comes up outside those two hours, don’t worry about it then but make a note to worry about it during the two hours you have set aside.”
    When she came back the following week, she apologized that she had found herself unable to worry for as long as two consecutive hours.

    On August 26, he asked, “How can you balance your schedule to make better use of your time and energy,” and then clearly explained how to do that, giving examples, and concluding with:

Your daily to-do lists should include things that will increase your positive energy and not include too many things that drain your energy. Balanced lists will help you allocate time and energy for those personally fulfilling endeavors that enrich the quality of your life.

Bill knew about such things; he had been a counselor, consultant, and life coach, and had taught time-management seminars around the country. And I suspect he was, simply, what’s known as a wise man.

    Bill was also passionate about animal rights and was the parent of two dogs and a cat, with all of whom my wife and I became acquainted. Liam was the Johnsons’ star, and Bill even did an interview with him (“Liam Johnson on various things canine,” on September 9) and then wrote two installments with the byline “By Liam Johnson” for a column he titled “Liam’s Wuff”: “Communicating with your dog” (October 6) and “Members of the family” (October 20).

    The following interchange from the interview reveals much about the Johnsons (Bill’s questions of Liam are in italics):

Tell us about growing up.
    This isn’t going on Facebook is it?
I don’t know.
    Just so I get a say in where it goes….Well, after I was born it was ruff. We were abandoned at an animal shelter in Boone, North Carolina. My siblings and my mom left one by one, leaving me all alone in a small sheltered dog run for what seemed like forever. Every time someone came by to look at me I was hopeful, but nothing came of it. Looking back on it, it was a sad and scary time. One day a volunteer came to the shelter and spent snuggling time with me and apparently told her mom all about me. When her step-dad and her mom came to see me – “lying in my manger,” as she tells it – it was all they could do but adopt me! It was the happiest day of my life!!!!!!!!!!!!
    As a result of this experience, for some reason, I developed empathy for people, especially children. Every time I see children I want to greet them and lick their hands. I think they like me too.

    Bill had Parkinson’s Disease, and not long after making these contributions to Moristotle & Co., Bill and Pam moved to Denver to be near Eileen and Joe.
    Before leaving, they gave us one of the sculptures from their collection, and Bill even gave me his designer desk, which Nick and Luke helped me lug up the stairs to my office above the garage a few days before they headed to Colorado.

Image from our final Google Meet

Though now separated by half a continent, we stayed in touch. We emailed and texted and talked, and most recently met via Google Meet, for which I almost always sat at Bill’s desk. We didn’t know it on April 6, but that day’s conversation would be our last.
    On May 8, my wife and I were sitting at a gate at MSP waiting to board our flight home from Minneapolis when my mobile phone alerted me that Pam was calling:

Bill experienced cardiac arrest and was on a ventilator for two days. Because he lost most of his functions, he was removed from the ventilator. Jen & her partner Paul, Nick & his wife Jenny, and Eileen & Joe were with me by his side throughout. Unfortunately, Luke was unable to make it.
    We honored Bill’s wish for us to have a living funeral in his presence, so we were all together for several hours with him in his ICU room. We grieved. We laughed at some funny stories about Bill. We even told some of his jokes. We meditated and played some of his favorite music: “Hallelujah,” by Leonard Cohen; Lady Gaga’s “Born this Way”; Fleetwood Mac; etc. It was a beautiful, impromptu event, deeply moving and healing for us all. I miss my beautiful husband.
    Some amazing bird things are going on as well. Nick was visited by a crow, which is significant because when Bill was growing up in the Pacific Northwest, he and his mom fed a flock of crows every day. He also had a pet parakeet named Maverick. And right after Bill passed away, I went to the hospital room window and two Canada geese flew by. Whether you believe in “signs” or not, it’s a lovely way to feel his presence.

    I had a bird experience too. The next day, on my walk around the neighborhood where we became acquainted with the Johnsons, I imagined Bill walking along with me. A robin sat quietly on the sidewalk ahead of me, and I paused to let it take three short flights to gather itself in the yard it seemed to consider home.

Copyright © 2023 by Moristotle