“Poppa, I wish you were here to see this…” — letters that become family history.
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. 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 — 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, and you calling us all on our birthdays and completely butchering Granny’s birthday song in a completely different cadence.
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.
— Tarik, Tiffany, Marcus, Brittanie, Jayson, and Mathew
Graduated? Got the job? New baby in the family? Tell him. Letters posted on the Wall are kept here as part of the family’s history — twenty years from now, they’ll still be here.
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.