Sound Bites & Snap Shots

Today was the funeral for my grandfather, Charley Johnson. 

His celebration of life drew many people—our own family, friends from church, neighbors and then friends and family members of ours.  It was touching to see evidence of how many lives he had touched. 

The bereavement group at St. Agatha’s Church made this display of artifacts, things that were memorable to my grandfather and symbolic of who he was.

The funeral mass was just lovely.  The music minister from the parish led the choir and there was a special duet sung by my cousin Deana’s long time friend and her father. I can’t remember anything about the song but the connection they had through the music sent an indescribable wave of emotion over me.

Because of the legacy that my grandfather leaves, I am including the obituary my mother wrote and the tributes that were given by my father, my cousin and my uncle. 

Charley Johnson, Jr.

June 26, 1917 – June 24, 2015

Charley entered this world at Boyce, Louisiana, June 26, 1917, the child of Josephine Metoyer and Charley Johnson, Sr.  He was one of four boys and two girls . He attended school in Boyce and worked at various jobs.

His wedding to Juvella Rita Rachal took place at Saint Margaret Church in Boyce on February 22, 1941.  The couple moved to Alexandria, Louisiana.  Melvin was born in December 1941.

Circumstances of World War II called Charley on December 3, 1942 to serve in Marseilles, France.  During this time, Juvella bore a second son, Melford, in 1943.  With his honorable discharge, Charley returned home on October 30, 1945. 

Wanting greater opportunities for their sons, Charley and Juvella traveled to Los Angeles in 1645, settling down near the University of Southern California.  Two more children became part of the Johnson family, Renee in 1946 and Michael in 1957. 

The family later moved to Cochran Avenue, joining the Saint Agatha family.  For many years, Charley ushered at Mass and frequently encouraged others to be of service in this way.

Charley found employment at Laguna Sportswear and continued that job until his retirement at age 65.

His health necessitated a move to Prestige Assisted Living in Henderson, Nevada.  After a fall, Charley continued to decline.  Two days before completing his 98th year, he entered the next world on June 24. 

Charley lives on through his children, Melvin, Melford, Renee, and Michael; eight grandchildren, Deana, Dean, Leslie, Suzanne, Monique, Laynie, Patrice and Brandon; and nine great-grandchildren, Jonathan, Joseph, Jordan, Jeffrey, Walker, Mason, Camille, Frances and Jaiden.

* * * * *

My cousin Deana and my Aunt Renee read the obituary side by side and then my dad shared his comments. 

Thank you for coming to celebrate the life of my father, Charley Johnson Jr.

You know, this day is one that my mind told me was inevitable, but one that my heart did not want to accept.

We have come together today to honor him, and I would like to focus, on who he was as a person and what he meant to us as a family. And to do that I want to share with you a conversation I had with my Dad a few months ago, when I had a chance to discuss a key decision he made years ago, which turned out to have a profound impact our family.

With that in mind I would like to start by taking you back to the year 1941.  That was a long time ago, and our parents were living in a little town called Boyce in Louisiana. In February of that year, my Dad finally got around to asking my Mother, Juvella Rita Rachel, for her hand in marriage. He apparently had his eye on her for some time. But it took a little nudging from our very dear relative, who we called Cousin Emily, who told him, “Charley, go marry that girl.” Members of Cousin Emily Rachal’s family are here with us today. I dare say, this was the smartest decision of his life.

So, my Mother and Father celebrated 74 years of marriage together earlier this year.  After they were married, I entered the picture on December 1st 1941, and a week later, Pearl Harbor was bombed. Shortly thereafter, the United States entered the war and, our Dad was drafted into the Army in December, 1942— something he was very proud of. He was shipped overseas, and while he was stationed in “Marseille, France,” as he so frequently reminded us, my brother Melford was born in 1943.

It was years later that he told us about how he had prayed to the Lord one night after the war ended, just before he was released from the Army, in October, 1945. And he asked God to help him make a decision on where to raise his family. He told us he knew that Boyce was not the best place and that he wanted to give all of us, a much better life, with more opportunities, than he had. And…according to the story, the Lord spoke to him one night, and told him, that he should leave Louisiana and move his family to California.

Now, I am sure you can picture this setting—he had a new wife, whom he had been away from, for 3 years and who had never been outside of Louisiana, and two hyper-active little boys, and we got on a train together with one large trunk containing all our belongings and came all the way across country, and landed at Union Station in downtown Los Angeles. Now, I am certain, that must have been quite a shock for both of them.

My Dad had no job, no place to live, and no car. All he had was as a contact of a distant quasi-relative, who was supposed to help us get started.

But it turns out God was watching over us, and my Dad met a gentleman who saw the conditions we were living in, over in South Central Los Angeles and offered us a small house to rent on 37th place and Normandie.

And then within a short period of time, he was working on a temporary construction site where he met the owner of a sportswear company, who offered him a job in the garment district in downtown Los Angeles, where he worked for over 35 years until his retirement.

So back to this conversation with my Dad, we were sitting in the back yard, talking one-on-one, and I got to tell him how grateful we were for his decision to bring us to California , and what a turning point, it was in all our lives. This realization became clearer to me, as the years passed, that such a decision took a tremendous amount of faith, love, courage –and above all, trust in God. I don’t know, if I would have been able to do the same thing under those circumstances.

And today when I look around –and count the blessings we all have had– my brothers, Melford and Michael and my sister, Renee– it overwhelms me. I wanted him know how much his sacrifice meant to us. We had not only tremendous support from him, and our mother, but more blessings than we could have ever imagined. We were never wanting for anything as kids, and believe me; my Dad was not making a fortune in the garment business.

We all had strong religious training and support, from the beginning –that started right here at St. Agatha’s, with Sunday Mass. And Melford and I were also altar servers thanks to him, and our Mother. We all attended Catholic grammar schools and high schools. And we all were able to attend college, which was something never achieved by our previous generations. And this allowed all of us, to secure successful careers, to be able to provide for our own families.

This all happened because our Dad —who barely could read, just enough to pour over the LA Times every day, who did not finish grammar school, who had no training in any special skills, who had no savings to start out with on this journey… but who did have, the right foresight, a great deal of dedication

to his family, a keen sense of perseverance, of never giving up….and of course a deep faith in God.

You know, they say, we learn a lot of our values from our parents—some are taught…and some are caught. And I am proud to say, that when I look at my two brothers, my sister and myself, I see so much of my Dad in each of us. I think there is no higher complement to him, for his love and investment of each of us.

On a lighter note, I should also mention, that my Dad was definitely the DISCIPLINARIAN in our family. Which I suppose is a good lesson to learn when you are growing up as kids. We had rules, and we had consequences….kind of reminds me of that famous TV show, “Law and Order.”

I did not figure this out until later in life, but my Dad, having just come out of the Army, managed Melford and me like we were two junior army cadets.  He lightened up a little after my sister Renee came along. And you will hear in a few minutes what kind of challenge my brother Michael was for him. We had weekly chores, we had inspections, and sometimes, we had do-overs, when we didn’t perform up to his standards. I still remember on Sunday mornings, before coming to Mass here, how we would take our baths, get dressed, and then he would line us up for inspection…and then he always wanted to brush our hair ….well, that was when I still had hair.

You know, our Dad had his passions too—including rooting for the Los Angeles Dodgers, teaching us how to play baseball, having family over for barbeques in the backyard and playing bartender –he loved to mix drinks, even if all you wanted was ice water– and of course no job was too big for him when it came to making repairs around the house.

In closing I would like to share one more conversation with you. This is one I had with my mother, the day after my father passed away. I asked her how were Dad’s final moments and she told me,

“You know, we were there together in our bedroom, all alone, and he started getting agitated, waving his arms. And I said, “Charley, try to relax.” And I took his one arm, and I placed it down by his side, and I did the same thing with his other arm; then I took my hand and I closed his eyes softly, and I rubbed chest… and both his cheeks… and the top of his head. And he calmed down. And then I kissed him on the forehead… and on the lips….and he took his last breath and he was gone, to heaven.”

God bless you Dad.

We love you and…you will always be in our hearts.

Then my cousin read a poem she had written  the morning of the funeral, I might add, as someone neglected to mention to her that she had been called to share her gift.  I was so impressed that she was able to write this beautiful piece under pressure.

The Story of A Legend

by Patrice Johnson

Can I tell you about this man I knew?
He’s quite unique, a special soul.
He was full of life and full of fun.
Never short of an opinion if you were lacking one.

His will was strong when his mind was made
And many adventures filled up his days.
A story he told whenever afforded the chance.
We all knew well of Boise, Louisiana and Marseille, France.

A man of faith and character bold,
It was easy to tell with each  story he told.
A husband, a father, a papa, a friend,
A man whose love for his family had no limits, no end.

I can tell you the story of a man who did more than his part,
The story of a legend, my grandpa, our hero, our heart.
His body might have left us, but his spirit remains.
We love you, Charley Johnson, until we meet again.

* * * * *

My uncle Mike shared his thoughts as well.   

Scripture –

I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness. (2 Timothy 4:7,8)

Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do so more and more, and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. (1 Thessalonians 4:10-12)

Who was this man Charley Johnson Jr.?

Some called him CJ, Charley, Chuck, Mr. Johnson, Dad, or just Pops,

What were the foundational attributes that shaped the man?

Where did these personality traits come from?

To understand what made up the man – you have to know a little about his foundational roots –

When you trace back his family history you have to go all the way back to Cane River the area for he was the son of one of the most famous family lineages in Louisiana’s people of color –The Metoyer’s.

Even though he carried the surname of his father Charley Johnson Sr. -who was a hard working, determined man in his own right– we really know more about his Mom Josephine Metoyer’s side of the family and can trace the history all the way back to the Queen of their family, the African lady named Marie Therese Metoyer, or as she was affectionately known during her day, Coincoin.

Coincoin was born August 22, 1742 to the parents of Francois and Fanny, both born in Africa and enslaved by the St. Denis family in 1735. Coincoin was the 4^th of 11 children.

At the age of 16 (1758) she married an enslaved Plains Indian, Chatta, and during their seven years of marriage (1765) they had 5 children.

At 24 (1766) Coincoin was given for rent to a French merchant and planter, Claude Thomas Pierre Métoyer, who was born in France and had recently arrived in Isle Brevelle to begin his business life and during their placage of 18 years 1766-1784 they had 10 children together – one being the most famous Creole of Color, Nicholas Augustin.

In 1788 Claude Thomas married Marie Therese Buard and he freed Coincoin and gave her 68 acres of land. Coincoin took that land and farmed it and turned it into a money maker—hunting bear and growing tobacco and indigo—and by the time she died at the age of 75 in 1817 she had acquired over 12,000 acres of land. This was 46 years before the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863!!

So…all that is fine historical background…but what does this tell us about Charley Johnson Jr.?

Well, first let me start with this.  As I was preparing my thoughts for this talk, I sent out a request to the family asking them to give me one word that best describes Charley.  Here are their responses:

Proud, elegant, hard working, debonair, innovative, conscientious, Christian, convicted, frugal, mission-focused, healthy, determined….

All these words describe not only Charley but speak to the deep rooted traits of his family passed down generation after generation after generation, all powerful words that do describe parts of the essence of what made up the man .

Personally I like the word GRIT when I think of my father:

G- Genuine, Giving

R- Resilient, Resourceful

I – Integrity, Intellectual

T- Tenacious, and Tough

Now, one may wonder a little about one of those traits, one of the words I used in my description, intellectual, being that Dad didn’t even complete grammar school. Yet, when you use the conventional thinking about an intellectual you may miss what one really looks like.

Let’s look at what the definition of the word says and see how it fits the man:

“An intellectual is the person who engages in critical study, thought, and reflection about the realities of society and proposes solutions to their problems.”

Well…if that isn’t a perfect definition of how my Dad, Charley, approached life, I don’t know what is.  He was a man who taught himself how to read, and up to his last weeks, read the newspaper everyday. He was not only abreast of world happenings, he often had a simple solution to the world’s most complex issues.  Don’t believe him? Just ask which I often did as he got older to check his cognitive motor skills.  I was often amazed at how up to date he was and how well versed he was on what was going on around him.  Yes, grit.  That’s how I best describe him.  His intellectual abilities were not only strong, they were by definition true. I often thought what he would’ve done or become with a formal education.  Who knows? Maybe Congressman or Senator Johnson.  I know one thing, President Obama could’ve used his help over the past seven years!

I also was intrigued about his name, Charley.  Even though he was named after his Dad, I was interested in understanding what was behind the meaning of his name.  I believe that your name really chooses you and it is part of the fabric that defines your personality. Well, here is the meaning of the name Charley. It’s an old English name and from the old English definition it simply means – MAN!

Doesn’t that sum it up? Charley = MAN and yes he was 100% a man.

People with this name also have a deep inner desire for a stable and loving family (which he was blessed with) and a love of community (which he exhibited) and a need to work with others and be appreciated (which he did and was).

So, that’s a little about what made up the man from his deep roots to his chosen name to how he lived his life: simple, yet convicted, always with a purpose and a vision of what was possible. However, we are here today to honor his legacy.

…And we may think that his legacy ends here today but I challenge that conventional thinking with an “I don’t think so.” I say his legacy lives on through his sons, daughter, grands and great grandkids, through those who have his spirit running through them.  You may ask why or, better yet, how can this be?

Well, its because…

We ALL have a little Charley in us.  Yes, we do.  We may not think he’s in there.  We may even be in denial that’s its in there but his spirit is there.  So, family, I’m here today to tell you….

Embrace your Charley…..

Lean into your Charley…..

Learn to love your Charley…..

Now here’s the secret to learning how to “live” your Charley and this goes for the spouses as much as the family.  First, you have to know which Charley you’re dealing with.  Let me explain.  Sometimes the good Charley shows up.  You know, the one with the strong work ethic, determination, integrity, innovation but every once and awhile that “other” Charley shows up too.  You know the one—a little stubborn, opinionated, hard headed. (I see all the spouses nodding and laughing.) Yes, you know what I’m talking about.

But here’s the deal.  With his spirit in you, you get all the Charley—both sides of his spirit—because it’s really all that made him such a good man and it’s his spirit’s legacy that lives on through all of us driving us to be the best we can be, better than we even thought we could be.  It’s your Charley.  Learn to love him!

Just to illustrate my point, a week ago Kathleen and I got the opportunity to keep our grandson, 5 ½ year old Jaiden, for a week and it was the week after Dad passed. What a wonderful gift it was to me to have his lively energy there to console me and help lift my spirits as I was trying to cope with my loss.  But he also assured me that he DEFINITLEY has his Charley in him and he’s embracing it fully.  That little motor was running all the time.  He was inquisitive, questioning everything, looking to do things for himself, (“I can do that…”) showing us daily.  He was determined and running his Papa and KoKo to exhaustion but we loved every second of it.  We didn’t know it then but we were embracing the Charley in him!

WWCJD – What Would Charley Johnson Do? I think we need those wristbands made.

Amen –

Recently, President Obama eulogized the nine victims who died in that tragic shooting in that Charleston, SC church and if you saw it, you know what a powerful, moving speech it was. I got to watch it the day after Dad passed when I was all alone in a hotel room in Chicago on a business trip. As I listened to the President reach deep in his soul to deliver this talk, I was also deep in reflection about my Dad and my loss.

There were two parts I’d like to quote from the President’s remarks that are timely today as we stand here and remember Charley:–

Grace

“Grace is not earned.  Grace is not merited.  It’s not something we deserve.  Rather grace is the free and benevolent favor of God as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of his blessings.  Grace.”

God bestowed grace on our parents.  Seventy-four years of partnership & marriage, he gave grace to Charley throughout his life as he guided his steps for almost 98 years.

The President went on to say, in honoring Reverend Pinckney:

“We are here today to remember man of God who lived by faith—a man who believed in things not seen, a man who believed better days were ahead. A man of service who persevered knowing full well he would not receive all those things he was promised because he believed his efforts would deliver a better life for those who followed him….

Well, who does that sound like?

Charley lived by faith.

Charley believed when he brought his family to Los Angeles from rural Louisiana there would be unseen opportunities.

Charley was a man of service to his family, his country, his church and his community.

Charley persevered his whole life—every day—knowing he may not receive all those things promised but those generations after him would.

Charley believed his efforts would also deliver a better life for those that followed him.  Charley believed deeply. It’s what drove him, this belief, this deep conviction, this deep faith.

And through this belief he never gave up, stayed true to his convictions, would not grow discouraged even in the face of challenge and conducted himself living a quiet life, minding his own business, working with his hands, living his life with a quiet dignity that others looked up to and admired and respected.  He did it without being dependent or in debt to others.

President Obama also said referring to Rev. Pinckney:

“What a good man. Sometimes I think that’s the best thing to hope for when your eulogized.  After all the words about the person’s life are read and said, just to say someone was simply A Good Man.”

Well Charley, CJ, Chuck, Pops, Dad, you were a good son, a good husband, a good father, a good grandpa and a Great Paw Paw and yes, you were and always will be known for being simply….A GOOD MAN!

God bless you, Dad.  Thank you for all you did for us.  Thank you for teaching us the right way to live.  Thank you for instilling your spirit in each of us and thank you for being the man you were.

I love you and will miss you..

* * * * *

Monique, Brandon and I also shared a short reflection about my grandfather as well.  My cousin’s sons were pall bearers and Monique and her family brought up the gifts at mass.  Everyone who was there had a role to play.

After the funeral mass ended, there was a short viewing before we headed to Holy Cross Cemetery where my grandfather was laid to rest with a military salute.  To see him receive this final farewell with such a solemn ceremony made my heart very happy and the hair on my arms stand up.  The sun was shining brightly over us all as we stood on the hill and said farewell.

The last part of the celebration of my grandfather that took place was probably the truest to his personality.  He loved a good gathering and gather we did in my parents’ backyard.  My grandmother, her children, her great grandchildren and some friends all sat around reminiscing and telling stories that were not included in the more formal setting earlier.  There were glasses with ice cubes clinking, chips and treats and plenty of love to fill up on, just as Charley would have wished. 

Sweet dreams, Grandpa…until we meet again.