Charlie “Sonny” Johnson is someone I’ve only visited with in person maybe once or twice, and yet I wouldn’t hesitate to say he’s one of the more fascinating people I know.
A career military man and lifelong subscriber to The Journal, Johnson has corresponded with me often through the years and helped me with research on his mother, Bert Johnson, a highly regarded Home Economics teacher in the Bruce area.
“The Colonel,” as I’ve come to know him, rarely speaks much of his own accomplishments during our correspondence, but they haven’t gone unnoticed by me.
The Times Union newspaper in Albany, New York has featured Johnson a few times, including just over a year ago when he earned Veteran of the Year honors from the State of New York. He is also in that state’s Veterans Hall of Fame.
“A self-described poor country boy from the Deep South...Charles R. Johnson, grew up in Mississippi and led soldiers in Vietnam between 1963 and 1971, rising to the rank of colonel...The 1955 West Point graduate, who came to the Capital Region in 1999, said (being named Veteran of the Year) humbled him. After the ceremony, he recalled a line that a queen from Greece told him years ago.
‘There’s no greater feeling of self-satisfaction than to serve your country and know you served it well,” he said.
Johnson, 84, has deep Calhoun County roots. His grandfather was James Lorenzo Johnson of Pittsboro. He taught school, farmed, and “read law” with Hiram Creekmore in Calhoun City, passing the bar in 1910. He would practice law until his death in 1940, serving as attorney for E.L. Bruce Company. He also served a term as tax assessor and county attorney.
Charlie Johnson speaking at the dedication of the rehabilitation of the Vietnam Memorial. Johnson, a Vietnam veteran, has worked as an advocate for veterans and their needs since retiring after a long, distinguished military career.
“The Colonel’s” father was James Holdman Johnson (James Lorenzo’s oldest son) and his mother was the aforementioned Bert Scrivener Johnson.
“I was only four when my father took his own life,” Johnson wrote me. “But I remember that day as clearly as if it happened yesterday. I know my mother loved him until the day she died as did all our family and most of the citizens of Bruce.”
Talking about his childhood, Johnson recalled the great “freedom” he had to “roam the woods, play soldier, build forts and the rubber gun battles.”
His running buddies in his youth included Shed Davis, Bob Logan, Dwayne Beckett, Billy Swain and Billy Edwards.
During a 2001 speech at the Veterans’ Day program on the Bruce Square, Johnson recalled some of those childhood days.
“I cherish the wonderful opportunity I had to grow up in Bruce. My military training actually did not begin at West Point. Rather it got its start up the hill from (the Bruce Square) and across the street from the Baptist Church in my mother’s back yard. Many a battle was fought there as Bobby Lee Logan and I valiantly defended our territory from all invaders with our weapon of choice – the stinging rubber gun. Yes, Bob had great promise as a military genius, but unfortunately for Bruce, his interests were directed toward the pharmaceutical world.”
Johnson attended school in Bruce until the ninth grade when he went away to Gulf Coast Military Academy.
He told me he was always drawn toward the military and influenced by the many family members who served in World War II. He was nine years old when Pearl Harbor was attacked.
After finishing school in Gulfport, he went straight to West Point, graduating in 1955 and entering Infantry Officers Basic Course, Airborne and Ranger School. He would complete the Officers Advanced Course and be serving as a captain in the 82nd Airborne Division when he received his first orders into action, which happened to be just up the road from his hometown.
The Times Union told that story in 2012 on the 50th anniversary of James Meredith’s admission to the University of Mississippi.
“Charlie Johnson never liked the taste of water from the whites-only fountain.
“As a native son of the segregated South, Johnson sat in the good movie theater seats while his black neighbors were made to sit in the balcony. That was life in Bruce, Miss., in the 1940s, and his mother taught him it wasn’t right.
“His town was just 25 miles from the University of Mississippi. And 50 years ago this week, Johnson helped James Meredith become the first African American to attend the school. Just a few years out of West Point, Johnson was a captain in the 82nd Airborne Division in charge of 200 paratroopers assigned by President John F. Kennedy to quell the mob armed with shotguns and other weapons that had formed at the campus when Meredith tried to enroll in classes at the state’s flagship public university.
“The call came on Sept. 30, 1962, Johnson remembered. The crowd had turned violent. Two people were dead and dozens of U.S. Marshals had been hurt. The state police, under control of the segregationist Gov. Ross Barnett, refused to help.
“Fifty years can dull the edges of a man’s memory. But you don’t forget when you’re a trained warrior and the president sends you into your first battle just a half-hour drive from your hometown. At the time, it felt to some Southerners like another civil war was possible, that the Yankees were coming back. More than half the men in Johnson’s unit were black.
“As he scrambled to get his men ready for deployment, a young private from Mississippi told Johnson he wasn’t going because he was not going down to ‘fight my folks.’
“Johnson didn’t have to think. To get into West Point, he wrote an essay on how he was going to change the world to make it a more equal place for everyone. His mother had trained him to hate the racism that was woven into Mississippi life.
“‘We’re going down to help our folks, we ain’t going down to fight them,’ he remembers telling the private, who stopped protesting.
“When Johnson and his men went to the Ole Miss campus in Oxford, Miss., he was part of a federal deployment of more than 3,000 soldiers and more than 500 law enforcement officers. Protesters from Southern states swarmed to Oxford to protest Meredith’s enrollment. The angry mob gathered at Ole Miss threw bricks, and authorities launched tear gas canisters into the horde. Cars were burned and journalists were beaten. Gunshots rang out, and two white men in the crowd lay dead. More than 200 people were injured, and 160 of them were U.S. Marshals sent to knock down the violence. One marshal was shot in the neck.
“When Johnson and his men arrived on campus, there were papers and beer cans scattered all over the ground. Tear gas clung to the leaves of trees and wafted in the breeze. Students and staff had fled the school and the mob circled in their pickups close by, guns and bricks at the ready for another round. The paratroopers swarmed the campus, rifles in hand.
“‘When paratroopers come in you’d be surprised at how people decide they don’t want to be around any more,’ Johnson said.
“The crowd dispersed fairly quickly, but the quiet was tense. The troops pulled back so they wouldn’t be seen as occupying the campus. They were prepared to break up another expected riot in nearby Jackson, where Ole Miss was expected to play a football game. This time, a call came from Attorney General Robert Kennedy: segregate the troops so that no black soldiers would be in danger if rioting broke out. It was the toughest order Johnson ever had to give at that time in his life. The officers under his command — four out of six who were black — felt betrayed. At the risk of his career, he told his commanding officer it was wrong.
“The order stood and he segregated his men. He still remembers walking around in the dark that night, weeping, because he felt he compromised everything for which he had fought. His mother pushed him to West Point, partly because the military was more integrated than many colleges in the South at that time and she wanted her son to be educated in a place where everyone was treated fairly. The next day, he led the white troops to helicopters, where they stood by in case violence erupted at the game. It didn’t.”
Johnson has been a regular on the speaking tour over the years, speaking on behalf of veterans and the importance of their service.
Speaking at a Memorial Day program in Lanesboro, Mass., Johnson told the story of the millions of Americans who have “given their fortunes and lives for the principal of freedom.”
“Who were these people who used every ounce of patriotism, every ounce of moral strength, every ounce of dedication to our ideals to preserve our freedom and heritage for future generations? We call them Americans.”
“I regard the American at arms as one of the world’s noblest figures. His name and fame are the birthright of every American citizen...
“But when I think of his patience under adversity, his courage under fire and his modesty in victory, I am filled with an emotion of admiration I absolutely cannot put into words.”
The list of awards and decorations earned by Johnson in his military career is lengthy to say the least. It includes the Legion of Merit, Bronze Star, Master Parachutist Wings, Army General Staff Badge, Vietnamese Parachutist Wings and Vietnamese Ranger Badge to name a few.
More than any medals, Johnson told me it was the opportunity to serve others, something instilled in him during his upbringing in Calhoun County, that he most cherishes.
“I’m most proud of making a meaningful contribution, serving my country and my fellow man,” he said.
Editor’s Note: This story was compiled from various newspaper articles and personal interviews dating back more than 20 years.