Before he was Supervisor Harris, he was ‘Johnny’

Johnny and I were neighbors growing up by Jones Park. We had identical homes with the only difference being our roof lines. Our moms drank coffee, smoked cigarettes, and bowled on the same team together. Our dads fished the local rivers with John almost always along, too. We had fish fries in the middle of the summer, it would be hot as hell in the kitchen with four electric skillets frying up the catfish. Johnny and his dad would sometimes bring home snapping turtles for a later fry event. Johnny had a snapper grab his hand and clamp down. That called for an ER trip, stitches, bandages, and a tetanus shot.

Johnny taught another girl and me to catch, throw, hit, slide, block, fake, keep your mitt soft, and be a good sport. All important things in growing up on our street. Be a good sport, play fair, and if you are out of bounds, you were called on it.

Thanks, Johnny Harris, for some lifelong lessons learned.

Denise L. Krejci

Palo