THE REVEREND JOHN EDGAR JOHNSON '66
"Johnny Johnson" of the Dartmouth Outing Club
THE death of our "Johnny Johnson" in his ninety second year removes one of our oldest and best beloved alumni. While he was not a man of great wealth, he used his considerable resources with such selfdenying generosity and with such farsighted wisdom that his name will stand with those of the greatest benefactors of the College.
John Edgar Johnson was born in Lowell, Mass., February 3, 1843. In' 1862 he entered the sophomore class of the Chandler Scientific School, and in 1865 received the degree of B.S. despite long absence in army service. For the college year 1865-66 he was a senior in the Academic Department, and received the degree of A.B. with the class of '66. He was a member of the Kappa Kappa Kappa fraternity. A classmate recalls the applause which greeted the young Captain as he delivered an oration on the commencement platform. In 1916 he received the honorary degree of Master of Arts.
Early in the Civil War young Johnson had served as a newspaper correspondent with the Union Army, and at the close of his second year in college he enlisted and served as 2nd Lieutenant of the Martin Guards and Artillery Co., stationed at Fort Constitution, near Portsmouth, N. H. September 15, 1864, he became Ist Lieutenant of Co. K, Ist N. H. Artillery, stationed at Fort Reno, near Washington. February 15, 1865 he received a Captain's commission, and served with the 25th Army Corps on the Rio Grande. Here, incapacitated by fever, he was discharged September 29, 1865, and returned to College.
After his graduation Mr. Johnson studied at the Cambridge Divinity School and after his graduation there studied and traveled for a time in Europe, partly in the hope of finding a remedy for his growing deafness.
In 1877 he was married to Martha Jackson Ward of Newton, Mass. His wife died in 1911. They had no children.
Entering the ministry of the Episcopal church. Mr. Johnson was rector of churches in Hoboken and in Philadelphia. About 1880 he left the conventional ministry and became preacher in theater services in Philadelphia, with the support of George Leib Harrison, a wealthy lawyer and merchant (hence the name of the Harrison Memorial Fund). For more than twenty years Mr. Johnson continued these theater services, preaching to the "unchurched" in an informal, racy, witty style, well salted with yankee common sense, and at times touched with deep emotion.
A lover of the hills from his Dartmouth days, Mr. Johnson came back to New Hampshire for a summer home, and finally bought Sky Line Farm on Mann Hill in Littleton, with a superb outlook upon the near-by Franconias, and the Presidentials on the horizon. And this it was which brought him back to his Alma Mater.
Reading in the Boston Sunday Herald an account of the newly established Dartmouth Outing Club, written by Fred Harris its pioneer President, telling of the hope of building a chain of cabins northward from Hanover, and announcing the coming dedication of Moose Cabin, set for May 3, 1913, Mr. Johnson determined to be among those present. Introduced at that time and place by President Nichols, he expressed his enthusiasm for the project, and drew from his pocket a deed to his Sky Line Farm, which he was ready to turn over to the Club. The first financial support for the Club had already come through the generous efforts of Franklin P. Shumway, Esq. of Boston, who had raised the funds for the building of Moose Cabin, by appeals to alumni and personal friends. Mr. Shumway was also commencing to raise funds for building a cabin at Cube Mountain. On this foundation Mr. Johnson proceeded to build the finances of the Club steadily and rapidly. A lot of land was needed at once for the projected Cube Cabin. A cash gift of $250 secured the beautiful tract there, and the Shumway fund erected the cabin just at the close of that year (1913).
Moosilauke should manifestly be a link in the cabin chain. Mr. Johnson obtained permission to build Great Bear Cabin on land owned by the State (1914). The cabin and its furnishings were entirely his gift. In the same year he built the Cube Annex, designed primarily for the use of young women attending the summer sessions of the College in those days. Between Cube and Moosilauke was the beautiful and secluded Armington Pond, then known to hardly any of the college people. Here Mr. Johnson bought a shore lot, and in the most inclement early spring weather, riding over miserable back roads and staying at a hospitable farm near by, he personally supervised the building of Armington Cabin.
Up at Agassiz Basin near North Woodstock, N. H., Mr. Johnson owned a considerable amount of land. He conveyed to the Club nine acres on the picturesque brook, and built the cabin there (1916).
Members of the Club had become interested in Happy Hill in Norwich, with its wide outlook over the White River valley and across to the whole range of the Green Mountains. Mr. Johnson was delighted with the spot. On his first visit he exclaimed, "The view is apocalyptic." Not content with 16 acres which we had in view, he added the large pasture to the east, making the whole tract upward of 100 acress. In 1918 he supervised the building of the cabin there, riding on a buckboard over the rough pastures. This enterprise gave him perhaps his greatest satisfaction, for he had conceived the idea of making tract and cabin a memorial to Dr. Tucker, who was still living, and for whom he had a respect that amounted to veneration. It is a pity that the names Tucker Tract and Tucker Cabin have fallen into disuse, ousted by the meaningless Happy Hill. Nothing could grieve Mr. Johnson more.
All this time Mr. Johnson was improving the cabins and adding to their furnishings. The officers of the Club had only to tell him what was needed. Every cabin was a charge on his generosity.
While Mr. Johnson was pushing all this work for the cabins, he was planning for the endowment of the Club. He insisted that membership should be within the reach of the poorest man in college. He saw that to make this possible there must be a permanent endowment. He hoped it might reach one hundred thousand dollars. Beginning in 1916 he put into the hands of the College treasurer, to administer for the Club, lands and securities amounting finally to $55,000, under the name of the Harrison Memorial Fund. Gifts from other sources have brought the total endowment of the Club to $72,000, yielding an annual income of about $3,000.
Mr. Johnson gave generously to groups allied with the Club. A gift of $5000 started the Canoe Club; Bait and Bullet were helped in building their cabin at Cummings Pond; help was given to the Camera Club. He established prizes for boxing, for cheer leading, for journalism. The Church of Christ has a fund of $1000 from him for its social service to students of the College. All the time he was sending cash and supplies for occasional needs, especially for Thanksgiving feeds and Carnival. Carnival especially appealed to him; he loved the spectacular; he was more boyish than the youngest freshman; he was full of fun—his letters sparkle with it. He had a whimsical vein, which led sometimes to funny gifts—shipment of 150 green neckties, countless cob pipes, a whole case of Worces tershire sauce for one Thanksgiving; a case of talcum, powder was too much even for Dr. Griggs' resourcefulness—he had to call in the help of faculty wives. Mr. Johnson loved Dr. Griggs as a son and depended on him for constant service in passing on his gifts to the Club; but when he proposed to clothe the genial Doctor in a suit of Sherwood Green, the modesty of the Doctor had to call a halt; but he did yield to Mr. Johnson's importunities to import a black bear cub to serve as a Club Mascot and to enliven the cabin feasts.
It is known that before the close of his life Mr. Johnson had given away literally all of his property, and was meeting his modest personal needs by his army pension alone.
What a pity that he could not have seen the latest developments of the Club: the beautiful house at Occom Pond, the prosperous Tip Top House on Moosilauke, the week-end trips in every direction, the Jobildunk ski races and the cabins there- all of them really outgrowths of his own farsighted ideas.
I cannot close this sketch of the life of our good, great friend better than by quoting the words with which he closed a letter to one of the undergraduate officers years ago: after saying that he cannot hope ever again to visit the College, he adds, "Hoping to meet you at last in the Delectable Mountains, I am yours till then and after." Mr. Johnson would not feel at home in entering pearly gates and streets of gold, but—Delectable Mountains!
