Howard J. Johnson

A proud Yooper, Howie was born in Marquette, Michigan, Upper Peninsula, to Emanuel Carl Oscar Johnson and Phoebe P. Johnson. Howie was preceded in death by both parents and his five older siblings: George Johnson, Ronald Johnson, Ruth (Berglund), Bernice (Bob) Shoals, and Robert Johnson. He is survived by several nieces and nephews and their children.

Howie was burdened with Pulmonary Fibrosis for some years, and it just kept getting worse. Never a complainer, he lived with sleep apnea and diabetes, survived three heart surgeries, including open heart, at least three known TIAs, a very recent brain bleed, carotid surgery on both sides, an old-fashioned gallbladder removal, back surgery, a metal plate implanted in the back of his neck, surgery on one knee and a total knee replacement on the other. The lung disease finally took his life. He was 88 years young when he stopped breathing in his sleep.

Howie was baptized and confirmed in Grace Methodist Church, Marquette, Michigan.

While living on E. Park St. in Marquette, only a couple of blocks from the beautiful shores of Lake Superior, Howie graduated from Graveraet High School in 1954. Drafted in Dec. 1958 and sent to Fort Leonard Wood, MO., Howie was then transferred to work in the Fort Belvoir, VA, Army Print Shop, earning a Good Conduct Medal there before his Honorable Discharge in Dec. 1960.

Returning to Marquette, Howie worked part-time on Elmer’s farm and part-time in Guelff’s print shop. Regular employment in the area was hard to come by, so following info from a friend, Howie moved to Rockford, Illinois, where he eventually joined General Lithographing and Printing, working there in the cutting and folding department for over thirty-nine years, with almost perfect attendance! He was an excellent proof-reader, set-up man/operator on the folding machines, and a precise, fast Cutter operator. (Later on, when his wife would pop-in to see him at work, that Cutter machine gave her nightmares!)

One of Howie’s favorite past-times was hiking, so he joined the Blackhawk Trails Hiking Club in Rockford. There he met his future wife, the gal that fell hard for him, Crys (maiden name Crystal Carter). Part of the attraction was a shared sort of off-kilter sense of humor, which never dulled over the years, and a love of Nature. One of their favorite hikes with BTC was the once-a-year, twenty-six (debatable) miles Lake Geneva, WI. From 1963 through 1985, Howie missed only two of those hikes, due to knee problems. From 1976 on, he was joined on the hike around the lake by his wife Crys.

Howie and Crys were married June 18, 1976, and spent over forty-eight years in a mutually loving union, which was not nearly enough time to be together.

The couple enjoyed hiking in a lot of National Parks and Monuments, including favorites like Bryce Canyon, Zion, Bandelier (including Tsankawi ), Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks and The Arches, to name a few, and rafted the Colorado River with a two-pontoon boat company through the Grand Canyon for a six day trip – one of the most memorable, and hardest, vacations. When they could, they vacationed in Marquette, MI., and Crys fell in love with Howie’s hometown and surroundings, where they walked the beautiful Presque Isle, Sugar Loaf areas, and Lake Superior shoreline. In Albany, OR, sometimes at night, the trains rolled through and blew their horns and Howie, half awake, half kidding, would whisper “Ore boat coming in”. And the sound is similar, kind of eerie.

Howie (or “How”; a special nick-name Crys used for Howie) was also a gardener and made a perfect spaghetti sauce from his garden tomatoes, which he cooked down for hours. His other specialty was his delicious hand-made- from-scratch Cornish Pasties (with Rutabaga, not Carrots!) from his Mom’s recipe.

Howie also served as BTC Bowling Secretary for over sixteen years, often taking his bowling work on vacation with him to get it done on time; this being just a part of who he wasÃ- diligent, steadfast, smart, level-headed, faithful, and a peaceful man. Crys always said she never met a more wonderful all-around man, and considers herself so lucky that they found each other.

After taking several vacations to New Mexico, when Howie retired, he and Crys and their two then-current cats moved to Rio Rancho, New Mexico. About two years later, they and the same two cats moved to the West Coast, eventually to Albany, Oregon. Over the course of Howie and Crys’ happy years together, they reared and spoiled a total of eight cats at one time or the other.

Howie loved Jazz, and Big Band music was a favorite of both of Howie and Crys.

One of Howie’s favorite movies was Anatomy of a Murder, a 1959 Otto Preminger film (from the book of the same name), because it was filmed in an around his hometown of Marquette. Watching it many times together, Howie never tired of pointing out the local people that he knew who had been hired for a part in the movie, and talking about their regular day-to-day lives. He also loved describing the way Hollywood had scrambled some of the local geography to make it work better for the film. While visiting Marquette, Howie enjoyed taking Crys to the real places used in the movie.

Being from the U.P., Howie was also an expert Cribbage player, having played from the time he was big enough to hold the cards and peg, and he also enjoyed playing double-deck Pinochle. Of course, he was an avid Hockey (Red Wings, and much later, Kraken) fan, but he also liked football (Green Bay Packers, Seattle Seahawks), and Baseball (Detroit Tigers, Mariners).

Having discussed together final services, it was decided to have a private cremation at Fisher Funeral Home in Albany.

Special Thanks to Howie’s personal caregivers Lygia Klock and Laura Warren, our impromptu cat and house sitter and friend Cindy Kummer, our neighbors who have helped us out in the past and are still helping out: the Heidmeyers, Loftons, Garcias, and Aufrancs; all the 911 Paramedics, usually Fire Station #12, that were so gentle and respectful to Howie when we had to call for help time after time (Howie was always glad to see them); Dr. Barron and the staff at Evergreen Hospice, and the people whose names I never got who helped Howie or me get up when we fell down in the yard. I hope I didn’t forget anybody. You are all so greatly appreciated.

Howie, I will love you for all eternity, and I look forward to being with you again. Your loving wife, Crys.