The Magnificent Mrs. Johnson

/ July 17, 2015

The lovely chapel on the Syracuse University quad resonated with chuckles. Some of the hundred people inside from the shining July sun dabbed their cheeks from tears. We listened to pretty guitar and stately organ music.

Vivienne Jean Johnson, fully lived

Life fully lived.

We celebrated the 92 years of Vivienne Jean Johnson beautifully in Hendricks Chapel on a lovely Thursday afternoon as family friends Gina Odgen and Patrick Mulcahy spoke of love and special ways, and guitar teacher Ed Ruchalski talked of a senior student striving and played a favorite medley, and her daughters Melinda and Cyndney remembered her how they singularly did best.

And we all prayed together.

I marveled.

Wow, Mrs. Johnson, I thought, how magnificent you were.

I listened carefully and recalled things I’d learned in the years I’d spent working next my great friend Melinda in the entertainment department of the big daily, and I thought of moments when I’d met this wonderful woman.

And I discovered new things, too, as they all spoke with love and humor. How she only wanted to be addressed as Mrs. Johnson. How she and her husband — who next-door neighbor Mrs. Mulcahy only wanted addressed as Major Johnson — integrated the Syracuse school district when he was superintendent. How she baked the best chocolate chip cookies. How she had stuck up for a young neighbor boy bullied by bigger toughs, and then proudly handled their ignorant slur. How she went off on learning expeditions on her own when they were stationed in Tokyo. How she learned to play guitar and took yoga lessons in her 70s and never, ever ended her quest for lifetime quest for learning.

I thought of how so often when she came into the office in the morning Melinda would relate to me how her mother had read and commented on my review of the concert the night prior. No matter the musical style. Yes, even heavy metal Godsmack, she’d been reading and commenting. I smiled.

I thought of how after the layoff, Melinda had invited me over to the house for lunch, and even while feeling ill, Mrs. Johnson had made sure to come out to visit for a while to make sure I was doing OK. I smiled.

A celebration well done.

A celebration well done.

I thought how very lucky we were to have had the magnificent Mrs. Johnson live among us.

And how she’d passed so many of those traits to my close friend Melinda, and her sister Cyd. And how lucky we all remained still.

The perfect spot for Mrs. Johnson's service, Hendricks Chapel on the Syracuse University quad.

The perfect spot for Mrs. Johnson’s service, Hendricks Chapel on the Syracuse University quad.

Have you attended a memorial service that moved you, and if so, why? Have you learned impressive things about somebody you’ve known after they’ve passed, and if so, what? Did you have friends’ parents that you always called Mrs. or Mister?

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47 thoughts on “The Magnificent Mrs. Johnson”

  2. MBM, thank you for sharing her with us. What a life and what a legacy. I don’t know that I have ever been to a service where I wasn’t moved. Either because of the wonderful things I learned, or already knew, about someone. Or for standing there with no need for a hand to count how many people were there, and being moved by a life that wasn’t recognized by many.

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  4. That was great, Mark. I can’t think of any adults who prefer Miss or Mister, only Driving Miss Daisy. It does seem a bit antiquated. Last Saturday, we had my granddad’s memorial in Kansas, and I, too, learned stories I’d never before heard. As I was greeting people afterward, one woman explained that she was wearing her lime and pink outfit because, as the program said, like Mrs. Johnson, it was the “celebration of the life,” not the mourning.

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  5. I think memorial services always move me Mark. And i always leave thinking I should tell folks what I love about them while they’re still living. ❤
    Diana xo

    p.s. I love the way you care about people and are always gracious in how you interact with others and share their stories here. 😀

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  6. This was an astounding woman who touched so many lives, yours especially being the only one we really know who knew her. The fact remains we would have all benefited from knowing her. I called all the people in my life who were older than I was, for years, Mr. Mrs. or Miss. I think there is a lot of respect to this way of addressing people. I like that you know Melinda still and can help her to feel better, reminding her of the humor and light Mrs. Johnson shown upon you all. Wow, what a legacy! My favorite memorial service was my Dad’s where we passed a microphone around the sanctuary, no need to stand in front and talk, just say something on your mind. People were like at an Irish wake, telling stories and jokes. My son stood up and fingered the beach stones he had chosen to carry to the service and his words brought tears to my eyes, despite being the simplest message, Mark. “I will miss my grandpa because he was the best. I wanted to go for another walk or two on the beach with him.” xo thanks for listening.

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  7. First, lovely tribute
    As far as using “Mr.” and “Mrs.” oh boy, you can tell the difference in generations. My parents are 90 and about to be 90 and when I was growing up all children had to call all adults Mr. or Mrs. so-and-so. In the schools here in Lexington, kids could be punished for failing to speak to teachers with “yes sir”, “no ma’am”. Personally I think it’s too bad that respect for elders is now considered old-fashioned and children pretty much have none
    I’m guessing for a black woman of my parents’ age it was probably an even more important measure of respect to be “Mrs. Johnson” instead of known by her first name. My recollection of the sixties is that, while white adults always received that honorific, the same was not true of black adults — who, in fact, were expected to refer to whites by Mr. or Mrs. and the last name while they were often called by their first name. Good for her for insisting on being referred to with the respect and dignity everyone deserves.

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  8. Hmm, can’t think of anyone’s parents I called Mr and Mrs. I think that generation was really into being called Barb and Vern and Phil and Sue…I had more the upbringing of calling people Mr and Miss with their first names.
    In general, I call people Mr and Mrs until they ask me not to. Our favorites have got to be Mr and Mrs Brown who were our former neighbors. Gosh, they were good people.
    Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m glad to hear a good service was given. Ninety-two years of life, what a blessing for those who knew her.
    The Mister’s best man just lost his mom, so he and his sister went to that funeral when we got home. Sadly, we missed another important one while we were on vacation. I do think Miss Lily knows we loved her very much all the same.

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  14. Well, it sounds like she led a wonderful life. It’s always astounding to see how people who lived a long life adapted with the changing world. I see so much that is old fashioned about this woman, but also so much about how she embraced the modern.

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  19. That is a wonderful celebration of life Mark. Such an amazing woman. I found that many women of that generation preferred to be called by their married name – for them it was an honor. I also found that many were modest and one never knew their accomplishments until after their death.

    Great post Mark – such a pleasure to read about a woman who cared so much about others.

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