Boo Boo Bear

Barry was the youngest of three boys and just young enough to get left behind when his older brothers thought they would go off and do big boy things. But the thing about Barry is he was always his own person and I can’t ever remember a time where he didn’t do it his way. Even when he was very young he did it his way.  From deciding to swim when he wanted to do it, to talking when he felt like it.

I remember the story my mom told me about how Barry had yet to begin to talk and it drove mom and dad crazy. He wouldn’t say momma or daddy or anything and this went on for a couple of years, it was so bad that mom nicknamed him Mumbles. Then one day mom was standing in the kitchen and Barry walked up and got her attention and out of the blue began to speak in full sentences!! Needles to say mom was more than just a little shocked.

As we became older Barry became an important member of our sports world. He made it easy to play ‘pickle’ in the backyard, or play tackle football in the house. When playing football, Barry almost always ended up being the player that had to play on the offense for both sides.  I guess this shows just how tough he was. We were able to play tackle football indoors because our house was set up with a central wall that had a fireplace on both sides. This broke up the family room and the living room but also provided an opportunity to run around the fireplace going from the family room, to the kitchen, then through the dining room,  hallway, and living room, where you could then go back into the family room. so for football you had to make 10 loops to score a touchdown.  Which sucked for the offense because they had to run 10 times around while the defender was able to stand there and just wait for them to come around again. This meant the poor blocker, Barry, had to run around all those times for both teams and then try and block. But he never complained.

When we were older our parents bought a camper and then replaced it with motor homes.  They also bought Doug and I Motorcycles and poor Barry again never complained. He would occasionally get to drive; but usually was stuck being the passenger, so that when I did a wheelie in the dirt without telling him, I flipped him off the back and the license plate tore him up. I felt bad, but since it was my baby brother I am ashamed to admit I didn’t feel bad for long. I think I felt bad only as long as I thought mom or dad might punish me and once that period had passed, I figured everything was okay and away I went.

We also liked to take the camper and head to Death Valley for Christmas and spend a week or so just camping and exploring. One time we were there and at Badwater Basin which is 282 feet below sea level. Well Doug and I decided we were going to climb the cliff face and see if we could reach the sign. We told Barry to stay behind because he was too small. So off we went, after climbing and slipping and climbing some more we all the sudden hear our mom yell at us watch your little brother. So Doug and I turn around and sure enough there was Barry heading up after us as fast as he could. So needless to say after we slipped a few more times we decided the best thing to do was to head back down and take our brother with us.

Barry also was part of the car rally crowd with Dad, Doug, Barry, and myself. It seemed like at least once a month we piled into Dad’s car, which was a Triumph TR4a and head of to Balboa Park to take part in a Skill/Gimmick Car Rally. Which is where you are given a set of rules and instructions to follow and you have to interpret the rules to see how they might impact the instructions and then along the way you would answer questions to score points. Best part of the car rally was that they would always end at pizza parlor where dad would order us sodas and pizza before we headed home. We actually were good enough a couple of times to win.

I don’t remember much of Barry’s pre college school years. He was far enough behind that it didn’t register. But what I do remember was that Barry was the only one to follow in Dad’s footsteps and majored in Chemical Engineering. First at Cal Poly Pomona and then at Long Beach State. I also remember that when he was at Cal Poly Pomona he had the best thing that was ever going to happen to  him occur. He met a lady by the name of Hasmig who would one day becomes Mrs. Barry Johnson.  And as for their school, I remember how jealous I was of them. Barry was able to take a college level class that gave him credit for drinking beer and Hasmig took a Wine Class!! I was definitely going to the wrong school

Barry met Hasmig at Disneyland where Barry worked behind the scenes in the kitchen for one of the restaurants. Unfortunately Barry and his boss didn’t have the best of relationships so the boss always gave Barry the worst tasks. One day though Barry had his revenge. Barry had just picked up a stack of trays and was moving them up to the front when his boss comes in and yells “Barry drop what your doing and go clean up the mess up front” somebody had just thrown up (I think)

Barry said “You don’t mean that”

His Boss yells “I gave you an order, drop what your doing and clean that mess up, Now!”

So Barry did. He dropped the stack of trays right where he was standing and went to clean up the mess. Way to go Barry.

When Hasmig and Barry were married, on January 26, 1985, it was an Armenian Orthodox services where Barry’s friend from the military came to act as his best man. There was a point where the priest asks the best man to bless the couple by anointing them with a heavy metal cross. Well he very gently tapped the back of Hasmig’s head and then turned to Barry and hit him hard enough to buckle his knees a bit. Fortunately he survived the service without a concussion. For the reception it was held at a country club at a golf course where Hasmig’s mom insisted that name tags be set up for all the guests. Well…. those of us that arrived first took a less strenuous approach. We took 2 tables and tipped the chairs saying they were reserved for the families of the Barry and Hasmig. So when here mom shows up she panics and screams that the reception is ruined. After a few rough minutes she calmed down and everything went along fine. We had a nice dinner and in true Johnson fashion access to alcohol. What else would we need.

Next up were the speeches. The best man and maid of honor did a good job, but then they turned the mic over to the audience. Hasmig’s uncle gets up, and you can tell he cares for Hasmig a lot, he goes on for 5 – 10 minutes on the wonders of Hasmig. So he finishes and they ask for someone to speak for Barry. I look up and my dad isn’t moving, I look at the table I am at with my brother and sisters, and they aren’t moving. So it looks like it’s up to me.  So here goes something, I stand up and pick up my glass and look to Barry and Hasmig and say

“Hasmig I know I speak for my whole family when I say thank you'”

And I sit down. The room goes silent for a second and then the laughter begins. Perfect.

Now Barry always seemed to love his cars. His all time favorite being his yellow flying door wedge the Triumph TR-7. He loved that car and you would always see him cruising around with the top down and rebel civil war cap on the top of his head.  He didn’t like being without either the car or the hat. The day he had sell his TR-7 you would have thought he had lost a family member. But he kept the hat.

Barry and Hasmig have three children Virginia, Ani, and Haig. Great kids all growing up to be as independent as their dad.  Growing up they liked to travel and my brother being who he was wasn’t satisfied with driving from hotel to hotel and restaurant to restaurant. No Barry had to be different, to that end he learned to cook while he drove. He found a book and learned how to actually cook meals by wrapping them in Aluminum Foil, placing them in just the right spot on his engine and then driving until the food was fully cooked. Amazing, I hear he managed to actually cook a whole chicken like that too.

Barry took his wife and kids every where, and the funniest story for me was when Barry and Hasmig pulled into the Martin Luther King Center for Nonviolent Social Change in Atlanta, Georgia. Barry said they had a good time touring the exhibits only to come out and find that someone had decided that they should break their side window and steal the camera out of their car. Oh the Irony.

When our Dad passed away, Barry, Hasmig, and Virginia moved into my folks home in Garden Grove and took over the payments. Ani and Haig were born while they lived there, so it was neat that the house was still serving a purpose in the family.  They lived there for several years until Barry lost his job and they had to move to Mishawaka, Indiana.  It was a sad day when they left and for many years we lost touch except for the holidays.

But thanks to the computer age, Barry and I were able to chat sometimes on line. The 3 hours difference made it tough, but with me being a night owl and him being an early riser we hooked up multiple times and were able to talk about many things. It was during these chats that I learned that family was very important to Barry, he seemed to go out of his way to stay in touch with most of us and he always seemed to have an idea of what everyone was up to.  If it wasn’t for him, I honestly think we would have drifted further apart from each other and may have stopped talking altogether.

It was from these calls I learned about his diabetes and celiac and it was he that kept pushing me to get tested because I was a very likely candidate to suffer from celiac. Of course I didn’t believe him, at least not until the cramps were so bad I had to order my doctor to test me. And when she was done, Barry was right.

He told me of his adventures making beer and how some of it wasn’t too bad. He talked about Linux, the 3rd operating system for computers that only really independent types went to. He also would only buy his family phones that ran the Palm operating system because again it wasn’t part of the herd mentality.

It was such a shock the day I learned that my brother had passed away in his hotel in Birmingham, Alabama. I couldn’t believe it, I was unable to grasp the reality of it for quite awhile. Going to the service that they had for him was very special. The number of people that showed up that all had wonderful things to say about him was amazing and rewarding. Playing a little bit of chess with Haig right there in front of Barry’s ashes will always have a special place in my heart.

I want to thank Barry too, from his passing something good came about. We started to have family reunions just so we could stay better in touch and have a few precious minutes to laugh, and tell silly stories about our childhoods. This was something that Barry had always pushed for but none of us ever seemed to find the time until it was too late. I miss you Boo Boo Bear, you were and are amazing and I thank god for the times we had.

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