Celebration of Michael Johnson's life at Lime Rock Park Sunday May 15th

[dalyduo]

From Skip Barber:

Dear Friends,

Michael's family and friends will gather to remember him in ceremonies in Portland, Oregon and Lakeville, Connecticut.

West Coast

A memorial service is being held next Monday near his mother's home in Oregon. Here are the details of that gathering:

Monday, May 9th 2005, 3 pm
Ascension Catholic Church -- Mt. Tabor
7505 SE Yamhill
Portland, Oregon 97215

Please call the church to confirm details (503-256-3897)

East Coast

I invite you and all of Michael's other friends, from whatever part of the country, to also join his friends, former Lime Rock Park colleagues and me at the track
next Sunday for a celebration of Michael's life. We hope to have Michael's family join us as well, though their plans are not yet complete.

Here are the details:

Date: Sunday, May 15, 2005
Time: 11:30 a.m.
Location: Lime Rock Park, near the Outfield Chalet (enter through track office gate at 497 Lime Rock Rd. -- Rte 112)

Michael had so many friends, and we don't know how to reach them all. This gathering is for everyone who knew and cared about Michael. If you know any friends of Michael's who are not on the address list of this e-mail, please forward this message to them.

Some of Michael's friends will offer memories and stories of his life. We're planning a light brunch following.

It would be helpful as we make plans for this celebration, if you could let us know that you'll be joining us. E-mail Donna Lloyd (Donna@limerock.com) or phone her at 860-435-5000 x306. But even if you're not able to get in touch with us beforehand, please do come.

Several people who have already heard about our plans for remembering Michael have called to ask about dress. I'll be in "Michael Casual," and I believe
many of Michael's colleagues from Lime Rock Park will be as well, but come as you'd feel comfortable.

-- Skip

[cdh]

A buddy of mine from Aptos, CA send me this, nice article, I have sent DVDs to Michael's family btw...

Mourning a brother's life cut short
By Mike Cassidy
Mercury News

At first when Chris Johnson walked the halls of Stanford hospital, he was sure his brother would pull through. He knew it.

The doctors were saying otherwise, but the man in the hospital bed was exceptional. Michael Johnson, 34, had come through for Chris, 25, since childhood.

"Mike was more of a father to me,'' Chris said recently. "My father is not in our lives, so Michael is kind of a father and a brother to me.''

Which is why when the tests came back saying there was no hope, Chris asked the doctors to do the tests again, or find some new tests, or give it some time.

Michael and Chris

Michael Johnson, born in Burlingame and a graduate student at the University of California-Irvine, nearly drowned in Stanford's pool during a charity inner tube water polo game. He was a doer that way, Chris said, always looking to help others out, encouraging them to achieve what they wanted to achieve.

"He refereed a game,'' Chris said. "He played a game. And that's when he slipped under water and no one noticed him.''

When someone did notice, Michael was at the bottom of the pool, unconscious.

You might have read about the April accident in the newspaper. One of life's tragedies. The sort that profoundly and irreversibly changes a family in ways the rest of us can't imagine. Nor can we stop to contemplate the full effect of each and every sad happening. We'd go crazy if we did.

But we know there is more to each story. In this case, the story was Michael and Chris, two brothers who were there for each other. Michael was there at the beginning of Chris' life -- offering advice and comfort.

"As a little kid, he would always let me hang out with him and his older friends and never shoo me away,'' Chris said. "He always welcomed me in his life.''

And Chris was there at the end of Michael's life -- grappling with decisions that are too big for any one person.

Chris spent six days at the hospital with Michael.

"I just kept going in there and talking to him and spending the night at his bedside.''

A "hollow feeling''

Chris spoke encouraging words and brought Michael forget-me-nots, like the ones their great-grandmother used to grow. He reminded Michael that they had plans to go backpacking. And he asked him to wake up.

But Michael wasn't waking up. His brain was too far gone.

The decision to remove Michael from life support was a family decision. Michael's mother was there. So was his girlfriend.

"It was the hardest, just saddest, hollow feeling,'' Chris said. "I just wanted to respect my brother, give my brother his dignity. You have to let go and say, `I'll catch up with you some day.' ''

Chris thought about the last time Michael came to visit in Portland, where Chris lives. They visited old haunts and old houses where they'd grown up once the family moved to Oregon. When it was time to go, the brothers hugged.

"I love you, buddy,'' said the older. ``Stay out of trouble.''

It was too short -- Michael's visit and Michael's life.

But he accomplished much. And he left behind a brother's love that will not be conquered.