Rick Johnson

Rick is survived by his wife, Janet Johnson; daughter Laura Johnson; son Scott Johnson (Alisha); and grandson Jeffery Mattingly.

Rick was preceded in death by his father Lester L. Johnson and his mother Gwen Johnson.

A celebration of life for Rick will be held Saturday, July 30, 2022 at 10:00 AM at Lakeview Funeral Home, 12100 E 13TH ST N, Wichita, KS 67206 with inurnment to follow at Lakeview Mausoleum.

In lieu of flowers, you may bring a toy to donate or contributions in Rick's memory may be made to Salvation Army- Toys for Tots, Navy and Marine Corps Reserve Center ATTN: T4T, 3026 George Washington Blvd, Wichita, Kansas 67210 US, https://marinetoysfortots.salsalabs.org/localdonationform/index.html?fun_local_campaign_designation=KS-Wichita&scf_unit_code_supporter=KS-Wichita&fun_unit_location=KS-Wichita.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.MyLakeviewFuneralHome.com for the Johnson family.

“FILLING IN THE FRAMES”

RICKY “RICK” LYNN JOHNSON, 72

Lived Life June 19, 1950, through July 17, 2022

CELEBRATION OF LIFE MEMORIAL SERVICE

Lakeview Funeral Home / Wichita, KS

10 AM, Saturday, July 30, 2022

Eulogy by Celebrant Cyndi Pearce

INURMENT

Lakeview Mausoleum

Columbarium 5F

Bowling is a great American pastime, and has been traced back the tomb of an Egyptian child from 5200 B.C. The primitive implements included nine pieces of stone at which a stone "ball" was first rolled through an archway made of three pieces of marble. Yet, bowling at pins probably originated in ancient Germany, not as a sport but as a religious ceremony. Martin Luther is credited with settling on nine as the ideal number of pins, but as the game moved throughout Europe and finally to the United States, the earliest known reference to bowling at pins in America was made by author Washington Irving around 1818 in the short story titled "Rip Van Winkle." In fact, why and when the extra pin was added from the European game of ninepins to the American game of ten is still a mystery today.

Welcome, that wasn’t your normal introduction to a loved one’s service, but honestly were not at a funeral but a celebration of life and it’s going to be a bit different continuing right now: Welcome bowling enthusiasts and thank you for joining our sweepstakes or tournament today which takes place here at Lakeview Lanes. Teams have been signed up, lanes assigned, and today we have one team we are really looking forward to following and that is the team of Rick Johnson. They are set up on their home alley or favorite lane, right in the middle of the venue. It looks as if the pins are set, and the balls are off the rack. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a full house today, those lanes are shining, and it looks as if our bowlers are in position. I’d say we’re ready to get this tournament rolling.

1950 was the start of the fast changes that would be seen in the next 2 decades, the great depression was becoming a faint memory and families were moving out to the suburbs where kids watched howdy doody on 12 inch black and white TV sets and spent Saturday afternoons watching cartoons at Cinema matinees yet for Lester and Gwen Johnson, 1950 brought new changes in the way of a child, born on June 19th of that year, here in Wichita, at Wesley Hospital. A son they named, Ricky Lynn Johnson. Though he was their only child together, he’d be the youngest of 6, calling Lorna, Mac, Jim, Larry, and Buster his older sister and brothers. Team Johnson was well on their way.

Rick was always honest about his youth, saying “they grew up poor in a cheap trailer on the west side of town and when at the babysitters, all’s they ate were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” a staple he’d not eat for a very long time after. He was raised by his mother and grandma where he attended Dodge and Eureka Elementaries, Truesdale Jr., and South High Schools. He was proud to be the last to be called a South Colonel before they were changed to the Titans.

He made the best of his time, gave football a try, however, saw the need to help the family financially and went to work early, mostly full time, starting at the Kiddie Clover Potato Chip Factory packing trucks where he worked his way to manager before he graduated in 1969. There are pictures to commemorate school dances, with him in a tuxedo and his date in a yellow dress and he spoke of the many cars he had. He liked small ones, such as the Gremlin he could take the key out of and it’d still run, a favorite was the white Honda Civic, and of course, the Pontiac Tempest and motorcycles that could outrun the cops, even going backwards through the mobile home park. More time was spent dragging Douglas, partying, and drinking, and how his brother Buster looked so much like him, that when Buster picked fights and people came looking for him, Rick was often mistaken for his brother, yet the two always had a plan when that happened. There was time riding the bus to swim at the public pool, a treat was getting to see a movie at the Orpheum, and being raised around the owners of Dog-N-Shake, where he worked as well, the family went almost every weekend to enjoy a good hotdog which he liked, mustard only, light on the mustard, a medium fry, and now a days, it’s was a large Dt. Coke too.

After high school, Rick worked at Cessna, for a little while before he was drafted. He hoped to go into the Army, yet once he said, “I hope to get a gun big enough to kill a water buffalo,” he was transferred out of the Army line to the one that said Navy where he joined the ranks of the USS Saratoga on 26 May 1970. Here he loaded airplanes on to the flight deck, visited many ports and places such as Daytona and Cannes, France where he found it interesting that the bathrooms were unisex. He witnessed a typhoon, watched the dolphins as he laid in the ship’s lifeboats, got schoolboy giggly when he had the opportunity to sit in the cockpit of a few planes, and learned the finer points of physics, which he later taught to his son, such as how to propel yourself up a ladder by using the waves of the water. Rick had a list of training courses under his belt, earned a National Defense Medal and was honorably discharged on 07 February 1972. For his time and service, we are thankful and to honor this, we now turn it over to the Naval Honor Team who we too are thankful for.

MILITARY HONORS

Rick was born the anchor bowler of his family, and though he may have been challenged in his youth, may not have gotten a quality shot on his first delivery, you can bet, when the pins were reset, he went to work, joined the military, and upon his return to Wichita, the pins were set for a follow thru. So, before we head into this next round, let’s take a few moments, hear the song, Amazing Grace, and catch a few “frames” of his life in pictures.

SONG “AMAZING GRACE” BY ALAN JACKSON

The next 40 and a half years are spent making a few strikes as Rick went to trade school to become a CNC Machinist, where he was trained on machinery to create tools and parts from metal, plastic and other materials and he did this at Cessna, Boeing, and Spirit. He was proud of his work as he learned how to make his own parts, set up, program the machinery, and run it. Now a days, you have people set it up for you and someone just steps in to run it, but Rick did it all and he was proud of every part.

But as most know with all aircraft work, there are layoffs and this can be a gutter ball for sure, but for Rick, he always found work and this time it was working on cars for the City of Wichita and after hours, this group had another team of sorts, but not on the lanes, on the courts, the volleyball courts and it was during one game, he went to smash a ball into the face of an opponent on the vital statics team, when it went astray and hit another player named Janet. And boy did he make a statistic that night when they became a couple. Janet fell for his work ethic, and it didn’t hurt when he put on his racing gear, as she joined him at 81 Speedway to watch him race. After dating, home for the pair began in a little square house on 71st street. Janet didn’t like it much because of the horse farm next door, so they began looking and found another over at Doris and Newell. It was a new build yet were told they couldn’t purchase unless they were married, so one day before work, with Janet in her typical black jeans, he in his work clothes, which was a hat, a pocket shirt, and work boots, with her mom and dad, and his mom present too, the pair married at the courthouse in September of 1978. That day, Janet told him, “She married him to make him miserable for the rest of his life.” (That was a little reference to the volleyball hit to the face.)

This was life for the next few years, until they added children to their family and each birth would be challenging, as daughter Laura born 3 months early at 5.5lbs, then son Michael was 3 months early. He was too young and only lived for a few hours. This was devastating, yet they’d be blessed once more with another son, Scott, who still came 2 months early at 4.1 lbs., yet he too pulled through like his sister. These babies were all so little, Rick thought he was going to drop them, especially with Laura his first. And Scott, he was so small he came home in Laura’s Cabbage Patch doll clothes. Life was great with kids, even if Laura and Scott couldn’t sleep. Laura would cry at the racetrack until the engines started then she was fast asleep, so that became a ritual at home too, engine on for sleep and Scott, he snuck into their room, poking mom 3 times in the face to wake her and when she didn’t, he’d lay of the floor where each morning, dad may step on him as he woke. And perhaps one of Rick’s proudest moments was being able to build a home, their forever home, to raise his family in.

Speaking of that racing gear. Rick raced stock cars, Chevy’s, always Chevy’s. He hated Ford’s, and said, “You can never wear green in racing, or have peanuts, both were bad luck.” And his numbers always had a 3. There was 3, 83, and 31. Like his work, he loved the technology of racing, the speed, and the comradery of the other drivers too. When not at 81, you’d find him enjoying NASCAR at the Kansas Speedway with his buddies where Rick enjoyed the underdog drivers such as Joey Lugano and Dale Jarret, yet he also followed the Earnhardt’s, and liked Tony Stewart when he wasn’t being a hot mess. Do you know what makes NASCAR a sport? Neither did Rick until Scott told him, it’s because their heart rates stay up around 120 beats per minute for those 4 hours, and this is what qualifies it as a sport. Janet and Scott often joked with him about how he could watch them go around and around for so long and presented him with questions such as, “What if they have to go pee?” to which he’d quickly respond, just “Shut up!”

Besides racing, the theme of our story is bowling and that’s because Rick loved to bowl. In fact, most of the family’s travels were for bowling tournaments, where Janet did needle craft while he bowled. After his tournament was over, he’d let her pick out a special place to go, since she’d spent the time waiting on him and then they’d extend their trips to see the sights around where they were staying. They’d see Yellowstone after being in Billings, Montana, a Naval ship in Baton Rouge, craft stores and motorcycle shops along with Silver Dollar City in Branson. Then there’s Reno, Scott’s favorite. One year when Janet couldn’t go, Scott was afraid he’d get his dad in trouble. Since the tournament was in a casino, where kids weren’t allowed on the floor, this trip, the elevator broke and Scott was in the casino with his dad, yet instead of them being called out, they were comped a free meal for the mishap. And perhaps the coolest thing Scott recalls from this trip was the telephone in the bathroom and how he was so excited to call his mom from it. A perk he still looks for when traveling.

Rick was a hands-on dad who kept score when Laura was on a team and was the water boy or assistant coach for Scott’s. He was at all the events, and if the team manager, you saw him carrying all the equipment, you know, the guy with the big orange jug, the one that was never empty after Scott overheated one game. He never forced his kids to play, but if you joined, you put in the effort while playing. He encouraged the kids to drop their bats when lightning interrupted on baseball game and when a team had to forfeit, he decided to have fun and called it a kids vs grown up game and had those from the other team join in too.

In honor of the game of love, children, and family he lived for, let’s pause for the song, “The Dance,” and catch a few more snapshots of his life on the big screen.

SONG “THE DANCE”

They say in bowling a turkey is 3 strikes in a row, yet at birdie, bogey, or eagle are often heard in golf, a hobby Rick played alongside friends such as Darly, Roy, and Bernard, but I’m not sure they heard any wild bird names, because when they played, the winner was often the person who LOST the least number of balls. Bowling really was his pastime, alongside Tom, Howard, Elmer, and Roy to name a few. Every year they bowled, at Nationals in Reno, there was time in Springfield, and Albuquerque among others aforementioned too and he always hoped to get to Niagara Falls, but the tournament never did.

In his spare time, he’s loved riding his Honda motorcycles, still worked on cars, messed around in the garage, collected Matchbox race cars, fat pens, and belt buckles, enjoyed Oreo’s, chips and salsa, along with a Dt. Mt. Dew, yet when we say spare time, he really didn’t have much as he spent just as much time volunteering as he did anything else. He helped the CEO of Spirit bring the idea of fowling boards to life. I know, I know, what is fowling? It’s like bowling but with footballs. Janet made the mistake of looking them up, thinking it was cool, saying let’s do it and volunteering her husband to make the boards. Not that he gave up much of a fight.

He also put together car and bike shows for the Tools for Schools fundraisers, where you could bring a school supply to donate. He helped supply a hot dog feed once a week to earn money to donate to a charity. Once earning enough to purchase a thermal imaging camera for the City of Walton’s Fire Department. And lastly yet not at all in the least, he’d help coordinate Spirits yearly drive for the Marine’s Toys for Tots. Something, again, he and Janet proudly did alongside each other and 100’s of other volunteers where he proudly rode his Honda trike which pulled a huge trailer full of toys. But it doesn’t stop here, there was volunteering at the bounce house at Boo-tacular at Botanica, packing food at our local food bank, participated in Tour de Cure, bowled for Big Brother and Big Sisters, and purchased an immeasurable number of items for Janet to place on Christmas stockings which they in turn donated to the Salvation Army each year. You can see in the pictures; these were successes by the mass number of people at each event held and honestly how many of us can say we’ve even come close to this? He was an angel on earth lent to give his time and talent.

While on his time-shared volunteering, many of you are here because you’ve spent that time with him or have been a part of this in some way and we’d love to hear a brief story or two about this. So here is where we open the floor to you for sharing.

OPEN FLOOR

He was a powerhouse on the lanes and in his volunteering, but if we slow it down a little, but not much, we talk about life at home. When shopping, he could walk around and look for hours, even if you only went for milk. He was a lawn guru, every line had to be straight, and some even say he had a “showcase yard.” At Christmas, there were lights on every part of the house and blowup figures covering the yard, and when football season was in full swing, he gave 6 Kansas City Chiefs games a go in person, but quickly realized, after they lost each one, that the seats were warmer and cheaper at home. His lap was never cold, because his fur babies kept him warm. There was Sugar #1 and Leo and now there’s Sugar #2 and Bentley. And perhaps most importantly he was proud of Scott for graduating from college as he was the first in the family to do so, just as Rick was the first in his to graduate high school. And though Rick didn’t like it at first, he was equally honored when Scott joined the military too. His life was family so when Scott married Alisha and Rick gained a grandson in Jeffery, he had a new partner that shared a common love of cop show such as Chicago PD, Hawaii 5-0, Blue Bloods, or MacGyver and perhaps the funniest thing to watch was how Jeffery had never been in a home with standard cable and he didn’t know why you couldn’t fast forward through commercials, so grandpa said, “It’s gives you time to go pee.”

Rick didn’t have family events growing up so now he’d move heaven and earth for this time. He enjoyed cousin Eric wrapping the everything gift each Christmas. He didn’t miss a wedding, graduation, or rodeo and he was always proud of you, encouraged you, which is what he needed and got in return when his life began to change. He quit smoking in 2007. Had a quadruple bypass in 2008. There was a pacemaker in 2010, and since he’s had 7 stents: 5 in the legs and 2 in the heart. The next few years were filled with life tests as he had congestive heart failure and was put on dialysis too. And in this last year, he’d been in the hospital 9 times, 2-3 weeks at a time which meant he needed his team around him every day.

It's 11:30 PM on this past July 16th when Rick woke with a stomachache and told his bride, “It hurts really bad.” He got up to go to the bathroom and his next words were, “I’m going down.” 911 was called, CPR administered, and after some time, around 12:40 AM on the 17th, Janet said, “He has a DNR. Please stop.”

Before our closing words, we’ll hear a song written in 1913 by evangelist George Bennard who was struggling with a problem that caused him much suffering. His mind went back again and again to Christ’s anguish on the cross. The cross he pictured was not a gold-covered icon, instead, it was a rough, stained, and splintery thing. So as George struggled to find the words to go with, “The Old Rugged Cross,” over a few months he pondered until one day it came to him, “Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross; And exchange it some day for a crown.” Ricky Lynn, your struggles are no more, your trophies were well earned and here’s to the crown you now wear.

SONG “OLD RUGGED CROSS” BY ANDY GRIFFITH

Rick took that quality shot with life. He had the best approach, release, timing, and balance and now as we watch the ball come back up through the return it will rest until we take it, reposition, and take his memory forward in the next frame of our life. Rick found a new kind of freedom when he was nominated and went on the Honor Flight, a freedom we can only wish for. He found a new kind of freedom when vacuuming up dust in the garage or learning to like peanut butter again. His freedom was driving that old 1984 Chevy S10 truck and being honored to have the neighbors Mike and Karen offer to give him a ride in it even when Rick couldn’t drive anymore. Life is like a game at the alley, you’re either the leadoff, the first to bowl, or the anchor, the last, and no matter which you are, it’s the delivery of the game, how the entire team plays which counts. Rick played all ranks, yet born as the anchor, he mostly took the leadoff position and lead the team. He earned his participant card, so now, how do you keep his game rolling? We have a little something to help. His trading card of sorts to go with all the team leader positions held and his beloved Oreo’s. Take the card and the Oreo’s, use them to share with someone over a memory of Rick, take them to the bowling alley and share stories, or keep them in a space that’s close to you. No matter how you chose to use them, each time you do, it’s one way to keep the memory of Ricky Lynn Johnson alive in your game of life.

SONG “HAPPY TRAILS” BY ROY ROGERS (AS WE HEAD TO COMMITTAL)

COMMITTAL

Together we’ve honored the life that Ricky Lynn Johnson lived. And now, from this time on, this place will be sacred to you.

We gather in this place of memories, peace, and love to say our final good-byes to this unique man. To find that place of love where your thoughts and wishes can travel back and forth. In doing so, Rick will never be far from your hearts and your thoughts. For it is here that generations to come will find a connection to their history and feel the sense of belonging to a greater force called family.

It is here that many will come to feel the presence, love and friendship shared in life.

We come to make a sacred space of remembering. To make it a place of peace where you can come to have a chat, to share a moment, to shed a tear, or place a flower. All in the memory of this man who touched each of your lives.

May we therefore hallow this space and pledge to remember and honor Rick for as long as you live.

May you find your own special way to honor his life, hear his voice and claim his spirit in your heart while being grateful each day for the life, love, and example of Rick Johnson.

May you find peace and comfort in your memories and in the lessons learned from this amazing man who always

looked forward to tomorrow and what the road ahead might bring.

We say goodbye and promise to always be a part of his story and though his light shown not long enough for those who loved him, the warmth of his spirit will stay with you for the rest of your life.

He was unique, loving, and a generous man, who can never be forgotten.

And with this, we may now place him in his final resting space.

Eulogy written and presented by Celebrant Cyndi Mendoza-Jones | [email protected]