Growing Up Southern: September 23, 2017

I’ve spent half my waking hours so far thinking of Robert Johnston and half looking for a quote by John Steinbeck. The quote, I felt, fits Robert. I'm still looking.

Found it. In Cannery Row, Doc is speaking:

“The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second.”

As everyone knows by now, Robert died this week while jogging on the streets of a city he loved. I shan’t attempt to imply herein that he was a perfect man. He didn’t always suffer fools well. He could express a temper. He didn’t mince words when he felt his beliefs oershadowed someone’s feelings. He could intimidate purely by his size and bearing. We had some differences, he and I, over the years, but they healed.

But in recent years, when I saw him on the streets of our city, I sometimes imagined Ed Ricketts, Steinbeck's friend and model for Doc, walking the streets around Cannery Row, deep in thought about the state of our humanity, looking for all as if he dreaded to be recognized, his contemplative mind the only friend he needed.

At other times, I thought of people who strive to accomplish in order to enshrine each accomplishment on a great “aggrandizement board” for folks to see, and for personal or political gain.

That wasn’t Robert. Few among us have accomplished what he did. Some have tried, and some have accomplished much, but unlike my old friend, they make a constant effort to let you know about it. I knew of his accomplishments as I was a few years behind him at Pine Bluff High, where he became a legend, both academically and athletically.

Probably, many people only knew of his record because someone other than Robert told them. I remember working in his campaign when he ran for the state legislature. The calling instructions dwelt only with ideas and proposals aimed at helping all citizens, not with his achievements. They ended with the plea to go out and vote, even if the callee was going to vote against him.

I visited with him for the last time a few months ago when we both attended a documentary at the MacArthur Museum of Arkansas Military History. He looked well and attentive as always and we spoke briefly of old friends and neighbors. Had I any inkling it would be for the last time, I would have thanked him for the inspiration he provided. I’m sure that he would have changed the subject straight away.

He spent the last years of life living the lessons ordained by the Galilean in the 25^th Chapter of Matthew of the Christian New Testament. He did so in a time during which our country was dominated by powerful factions operating in direct opposition to the welfare of “least of those among us.” In short, he remained at odds with a majority of the political community and a large segment of the modern religious community. He was that way, you know.

He was a contrarian, as many great people are. Again, he wasn’t perfect, but close enough. Maybe he knew, deep inside, what our species enjoys doing to the best of those among us.

We'll always miss the good ones.