Something I always found intriguing about life situations is timing. Always questioning as to how certain situations present themselves, out of the blue, for no apparent reason, but soon leads to something you had no idea it ever would.

That is what happened when, for no apparent reason, I decided to search for Phil Johnson.

I knew Phil and traveled with him in the early 1970s. I first met him when he came rambling around the corner of a garage apartment house I was living in off Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley, California. Seated on a sputtering Triumph motorcycle with his characteristic smile and collar length bushy hair. We rode all over Berkeley, Oakland and crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge, which was completely fogged in, to Marin County, where he suggested we go into a Frank Lloyd Wright building.

When we walked around inside the Marin County Civic Center, I was awestruck by the architecture and natural lighting. To this day, I would have never known it was there if he hadn’t shown me.

Our final travels took us to Port Townsend, Phil’s beloved hometown. When we got there, every day would be packed with travel around the city and state.

Phil had the uncanny ability to be in a situation and understand how to work with everyone equitably. That’s what made him the person he was. He had a good heart a kind soul and solid judgement. That was the Phil Johnson I knew, and to this day, I appreciate his kind words and gentle self that he was.

TERRIE MAHLER PROTO
Palm Beach Gardens, Florida