Even though he was on kidney dialysis three times a week, David Johnson wanted to experience daredevilry.
“Skydiving was on his bucket list,” his wife Angela Johnson said. “The doctor said: Absolutely not.”
So he tried indoor skydiving to simulate the thrill of soaring through the sky.
His health struggles led to numerous hospital stays. Yet he still managed to cruise to the Bahamas, arranging to have dialysis done at a clinic in Florida if he needed it.
Last month, he enjoyed his 50th high school reunion so much that his friend Ron Wroten said, “He was one of the last to leave.”
He cheered on the Bears and welcomed guests at his Oak Lawn home, where he’d barbecue ribs in what he called his “Casa Backyarda.” That was the nickname for the Johnsons’ lawn and patio, encircled by spruce trees and filled with flowers and twinkling lights and his comfy hammock.
“When he got out of the hospital,” said his brother Steven, “he had a barbecue.”
In February 2020, he faced a new challenge. As Mr. Johnson drove away from dialysis, he was involved in a car accident. Doctors ordered scans.
“That’s when they saw a benign brain tumor,” said his wife, who is human resources director for the Chicago Sun-Times.
After surgery to remove it, he had occasional seizures.
“But it was never, ‘Woe is me,’” Angela Johnson said. “His attitude was: ‘Let’s go to the doctor. Let’s take the meds. Let’s keep moving.’
“He loved God. He was thankful. He lived a life of gratitude.”
Mr. Johnson died Oct. 6 at Christ Medical Center of Oak Lawn. He was 68.
Young “Davie” grew up near 73rd and Kenwood. He attended James Madison grade school, went to the movies at the Avalon theater and played sports at Grand Crossing Park. At Lindblom Technical High School, he was a punter for the Eagles football team.
He was the youngest of four sons of Clarence and Marilyn Johnson. His insurance broker- father was one of the first Black businessmen with an office in the skyscraper then known as the John Hancock Center. His mother invested in real estate, and the Johnsons also operated dry cleaners.
He and his brothers — Melvin, Clarence and Steven — worked for the dry cleaners. Young David also worked as a veterinary assistant at Dorchester Animal Hospital on 75th Street.
Their parents taught them “We had to take care of one another,” said Melvin Johnson.
When their mother died in 2019, he said the Johnson brothers worked closely together, settling her estate smoothly.
Mr. Johnson got his bachelor’s degree from Chicago State University and a master’s in organizational psychology from National Louis University.
In 2019, he retired after more than 20 years at Southwood Interventions, an 80-bed substance-abuse treatment center at 5701 S. Wood St. As clinical director there, Mr. Johnson often was on call. He ensured that patients received proper treatment and that staffing levels and accreditation requirements were met.
“He worked with the staff to make sure they were the best they could be,” said Walter Carlson, a former Southwood facility director.
Mr. Johnson attended Oakdale Covenant Church in Chicago. He and his wife liked going out to nice restaurants — he loved pasta and shellfish — and catching TV’s “Ozark.” He loved the music of Lionel Richie and taking care of Jasper, their Bernese mountain dog.
If he met a new dialysis patient, “He used to sit there and talk to them and tell them they were going to be alright,” Steven Johnson said.
His wife said she was drawn to his kind nature but still didn’t realize the depth of his generosity until some recent letters.
“Our mailbox is filled with 2024 calendars of different organizations,” she said, “saying, ‘Thank you, David, for your support.’ PETA, the Audubon Society — from the NAACP to the Smithsonian, he was giving something to everyone.”
In addition to his brothers Melvin and Steven and his wife Angela, Mr. Johnson is survived by her daughters Mary and Simone Darby and a grandson, Marius. A memorial is planned for 1 p.m. Saturday at Leak & Sons, 18400 S. Pulaski Rd., Country Club Hills.
His family called him “Mr. Christmas.” He’d get all of his Christmas shopping done by early October. And it didn’t matter how sugary the script or song. He’d enjoy 24-hour Yuletide music on 93.9 LITE FM and watch all of the holiday movies on the Lifetime network.
“My mom said this year we’re going to sit down and watch some,” Simone Darby said, “in honor of David.”
