South LA resident Ross Johnson was born in 1920, the same year as America’s first commercial radio broadcast. Imagine that. Before 1920, broadcast media did not exist. Well, Johnson came into existence on Sept. 2, 1920, in Mount Enterprise, Texas. Since then, he has seen a number of hills and valleys throughout his life, both figuratively and literally. Johnson’s family and friends will gather from miles around to celebrate his 105th birthday, visiting Grace United Methodist Church on August 31st before enjoying a cake and a party in his backyard, honoring his long life. His birthday marks him as a centenarian, meaning he is a person who is 100 or more years old. Johnson joined the U.S. Army in 1942.
“I stayed there one year,” Johnson said, noting he was discharged in Kentucky. “I got out. I didn’t get along too well in the service. A Black man in a White army. I didn’t like it.” He got married and moved to South Los Angeles 56 years ago. “I loved it,” Johnson grinned. “Work was better.”
After buying a truck, he started a furniture hauling business and drove throughout the hills and valleys of California, all the way to Oregon. “I did fairly well at that,” Johnson said. “That went on for many years. Then I found something I liked better, and I started working in automobiles.”
Tiring of selling autos at the used car lot, he signed on with the LA Unified School District as a truck driver. “That’s where I retired from,” he said. “It was time to retire; I was tired of working.”
Johnson’s tip for enjoying a long life? Travel and don’t stay in life’s valleys. Life has its ups and downs, its hills and valleys. Johnson and his wife Mae, were married for 72 years before she passed in 2017. They had three children, and one year, the couple hit a deep, deep valley. Their youngest daughter died during childbirth. She was 22. “My baby daughter,” Johnson recalled. “I couldn’t handle it too well, so my wife and I, we sat here bawling and grieving, crying all the time.
“So one Saturday evening I say, ‘let’s go somewhere,’ and she says, ‘fine.’ I say ‘pack some clothes.’ She says ‘how many?’ I say, “all you can get in the car.” When Mae asked where they were going, he answered, “I don’t know, but we’re going.” They got in their car, and when they got out at Slauson, Johnson lit a match.
“I said, ‘Wherever the smoke is going, that’s where I’m going.’” The smoke went west, and Johnson drove all night. “We ended up in Portland, OR,” he said. “We stayed there about a week.” While there, someone asked if they were on their way to Seattle. “She said, ‘it’s only a couple of miles.’ I said, ‘I’m going to Seattle,’” Johnson recalled.
While staying at a hotel near the Space Needle, someone recommended a nearby, crowded restaurant, where they ended up sharing a table with another couple. They were also grieving the loss of their child, a highway patrolman who had been killed in an accident. “I told my wife the next morning, ‘Let’s get out of here,’” Johnson said, explaining to her that the other couple were crying all the time, and they were staying in the same hotel.
“We pulled out of the parking lot, and the parking attendant asked where we were going,” Johnson said. “I said, ‘I don’t know, I’m just leaving.’ He said, ‘Are you going to Canada?’”
When the attendant told him it was just down the road, that’s where he headed. The next morning, while Johnson was enjoying an early breakfast alone, in walks the same couple they met in Seattle.
“So I picked up the phone and called my wife: ‘get dressed, we’re getting out of here!’”
The couple then took a ride up to northern Vancouver and stayed there for two weeks.
“We did a lot of traveling,” Johnson said, remembering several cruises, flights and cross-country car trips before Mae’s death in 2017. Today Johnson lives with his granddaughter, Rene, who is also his caregiver. His travels are limited nowadays, but there are still high points. “Now family visits here,” Johnson smiled. “Here I am,” he said. “We’re happy.”
