His most treasured accomplishment: winning the heart of Willie Mae Hamilton of Savannah, Georgia — and sixty-three wonderful years of marriage.
They used to walk to school together in Savannah. He went off to the Navy, and came back to claim his prize and his love. As great as he was, Herman would be the first to tell you that none of it would have mattered without the love of his life, Mrs. Willie Mae Johnson. He lived for her every day of his existence.
One of his proudest joys was telling how Willie Mae would sew and make clothes for the children, for herself, and for him — how she could take limited resources and make a beautiful home. She, as he would say, knew how to make a mountain out of a molehill.
His last words to her were “I love you.” Hers to him were the same.
Herman and Willie Mae raised four children — Stephanie, Dondi (Herman Jr.), Ronald, and Danielle Denise, who has gone on before us. From them came seven grandchildren — Tyrone “Tarik,” Nicole, Tiffany, Marcus, Brittanie, Jayson, and Herman “Mathew” — and thirteen great-grandchildren: Mekhi, Caiden, Larry “LJ,” Kassidy, London, Nefertari, Noelle, Logan, Aset, Luna, Micah, Justice, and Sincere.
He was also a father figure to Roscoe Camp and Norman Fields, a godfather many times over, and a friend whose reach stretched from Jersey City to Savannah to Florida.
To PopPop, the patriarch, historian, and foundation of our family:
Words cannot begin to explain how crushed we all are at this moment. You were undoubtedly the world’s greatest husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. As simple as it may sound — you gave it all that you had. In every relationship, encounter, phone call, and check-in, you were there. The expert in care and unconditional love, you were the person that everyone aspired to be like in many ways.
You always showed up — and did so early. Whether it was taking us all on bike rides through Liberty Park, traveling to attend our sporting events, or attending every graduation in the family, distance was never a factor. You were always willing to gas up the car and be there. People would be asking you for rides, confidently stating, “I’ll see if PopPop could pick me up.” A thousand miles to Georgia and Florida were just up the street for you. If you said you would be there, you wouldn’t miss it for the world. We could bank on it.
We are going to miss you, PopPop. We are going to miss calling you up to check in on you and Granny and soak in all your wisdom — the stories about your childhood in South Carolina, the old stories you told countless times that we enjoyed hearing like it was the first. We are going to miss you calling us all on our birthdays and completely butchering Granny’s birthday song by singing the lyrics over her in a completely different cadence. We are going to miss the unique bonds we’ve shared — the bonds that continued individually and deeply into each of our children, your great-grands.
You were the man. A man’s man. Our man.
We hope that you continue to watch over our family, especially Granny. We love you, adore you, and will continue to cherish all the memories. Until we meet again.
— Your Grandchildren:
Tarik, Tiffany, Marcus, Brittanie, Jayson, and Mathew
Every gift becomes an award in Herman Johnson Sr.’s name. Every request keeps a promise he made his whole life: that the next generation gets its chance.
