My father passed away this evening, February 15, 2008 at home, with my mother, brother, and a sister at his side.

My dad didn’t achieve great things; and, like all of us, he made plenty of mistakes. But whatever he did or didn’t do in life, I was proud of him. Many years ago, he quit what was to him a boring job as a draftsman to follow his dream of being a professional pilot. Almost 40 years later, his flying career ended when he couldn’t pass the level of flight physical he needed. His last flight job was flying Lear jets for the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

I don’t think it could be termed ‘wanderlust’, but even after he was forced from flying, he couldn’t sit still. He trained for and took a job driving long-haul trucks — but not just any. He had to pick the ones that other drivers weren’t comfortable with: the triples, tankers, dangerous cargoes.

I didn’t get to see him as much as I wanted these last few years; it always seemed like our paths were going different directions, and for one reason or another, just didn’t intersect. Miles, money, time — it was always something. I regret now not making more of an effort.

Robert Eugene Johnson
April 2, 1933 — February 15, 2008

Dad, I love you. I will miss you.

Godspeed.