I’m hoping to answer the many questions I’ve been asked recently by my family about heartbreak, personal influences, mid-life, regrets, and accomplishments. These plusses and negatives of life all need to be part of my Storyworth. I also gives me an opportunity to teach some tough lessons to the next Johnston generations. By the way, I purposely wrote this to be a long chapter, knowing that my grandkids will probably never read it all. 

I want to blame the stringent, especially in the early 1950s, adoption process for not ever being close with my folks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that they wanted me to be part of their family and provided unlimited love and opportunities, but it was never a natural bond, much like an arranged marriage. I felt pressure to be perfect, as they tried to prove to adoption officials that they were worthy of my care, and I wish that I had been more honest with myself and them.  I hid most of my failures and things that I feared they might disapprove of hearing, while more than anxious to share any success. They stood by me at all times, despite my learning the following lesson too late in life: Through good or bad times, parents are your biggest supporters. 

I also blatantly wasted the money they provided for my education, getting by with little or no effort. I did not study, missed classes, and didn’t pay attention. I did get mostly Bs but could have done better, especially now understanding the great expense of a college education. All along, I never had to worry about money growing up, but really didn’t care about cars, clothes, fancy food, or booze. Going to concerts was my sole ambition and sadly drugs were my greatest vice. 

Knowing what I know now, I would strongly discourage young people from using drugs, a total waste of money and brain power. Unfortunately, my generation was not made aware of these inherent dangers, or perhaps never paid attention, while exposure was rampant, especially on campus and in Viet Nam. Getting involved with drugs is the only regret of my life, and something I will not detail. It’s embarrassing to even mention, but an important part of the culture of the late 60s, influenced by the music and events of the times. As an immature, not yet twenty-one-year-old adult, I easily folded to peer pressure and paid the penalty. 

The day-to-day examples of kindness, respect, inclusiveness, and hard work my parents and grandparents demonstrated were by far the biggest influencers on my young life. Two male neighbors, Jim Krider and Jack Lohman became older role models. Jim lost a leg in a motorcycle accident and showed positive resilience, while Jack got me involved in Little League baseball. I played sports like basketball, wrestled, and ran track in grade school, but one season of organized baseball led to softball and decades of media league enjoyment. 

I also think of other kids that I tried to emulate in grade school like athletic Gary Elliott, popular Steve Swihart, or brainy Grant Balkema indirectly influenced my behavior, although none of them probably never knew. I also grew to despise Ned Markey who was one of many bullies that haunted my childhood playgrounds. 

By the time I reached forty in 1991, I was prosperous, successful, and content. We bought an Indianapolis home in Castillia. Marcia and my careers were blossoming, and we were first experiencing life as dual earners and empty nesters. We enjoyed travel to Las Vegas, England, France, Hong Kong, Italy and Hawaii. I was also doing a lot of skiing and still in great shape, working out at the gym and running competitively. Both of my parents were doing well back then, at only a few years older than I am now. 

It was frankly heartbreaking to see our marriage of twenty-seven years come to an abrupt end at the beginning of my 50s, but a second chance at life was about to begin. With the additional heartache of my parents’ passing, I’m proud to have built a family of now eleven, including my wife, two stepdaughters, their husbands, and three grandkids. I’m also pleased to see that my son and his wife, about to begin the final stage in becoming a doctor, renew their 10-year marriage vows. So concludes the toughest chapter, so far, of my life story I’ve been asked to write.