After 23 years in prison, Johnny chooses to live his life by one definitive quote: “How we walk with the broken is far more important than how we sit with the great.”
It’s a simple reminder for the 51-year-old who was released two years ago, that compassion and empathy trump success and status.
“I don’t care about money, what I like to see is when a kid says thank you or when I go back to prison and can help,” he said. “That brings me joy.”
Johnny lives in the Baton Rouge area and in his free time works as a high school referee, a job that by nature allows him to give back to the community – by volunteering in his spare time at birthday parties and training kids in basketball and football. He is also a member of Pivot 4 Peace, a brotherhood circle that meets every other Monday at Leo S. Butler Community Center in downtown Baton Rouge.
His full-time job is with the State of Louisiana, where as a certified technician he does HVAC work and maintenance on 24 state buildings in Baton Rouge.
David Hood supervises Johnny and his crew. He first heard about Johnny through his father-in-law, who did prison ministry prior to his death and met Johnny while he was incarcerated. Hood said his father-in-law always spoke highly of Johnny and that praise continues today on the job.
“He’s doing a great job,” said Hood, facility maintenance manager of the state’s mechanical department. “He shows up every day, he does what he’s supposed to do, he’s a hard worker and everyone likes him. He has a very good work ethic.”
While incarcerated, Johnny was a volunteer in the hospice program, taught civics and GED (now HiSET) classes, was a peer minister, and worked in the library. He also earned certifications in horticulture, carpentry and HVAC.
He said the hospice work was especially impactful.
“That’s what changed my life,” said Johnny, who was sentenced to life without parole sentence when he was 23 years old. “One day it dawned on me that I’m going to die in here, and when you hit your 50s and 60s in prison, there’s not much left out there for you. I wanted to be able to help.”
After learning about the hospice program at Louisiana State Penitentiary, he and a nurse practitioner replicated a similar program at Elayn Hunt Correctional Center.
“When a man can’t shower himself or cut his hair or shave his beard, it feels good to be able to help them still keep their manhood intact by helping them with these basic needs,” he said. “I helped provide them with dignity in the end.”
While the last couple of years have been challenging as Johnny readjusts to life after prison and navigates financial hurdles, he is enjoying his second chance. Despite the challenges, he said he is thankful for the reentry services offered by Parole Project.
“Their program is wonderful,” he said. “I came home with $217 and a bookbag. Their services are so important. It’s just impossible to learn so much after being away for 20 to 25 years. Time just stopped while everyone else kept going.”
With salt-and-pepper hair, a bright white smile, and a smooth Southern drawl, it’s easy to see why Johnny’s nickname is “Hollywood.” He lights up when talking, especially about his sons and grandkids.
“One of the greatest rewards of being released from prison was I got to hug my boys.” He has two grown children – ages 25 and 30 and is a “proud grandpa” to four grandchildren, three boys and a girl who range in ages three to six years old.
While he is living in his success and the love that he surrounds himself with, he knows that life after incarceration is a process.
“Adjusting to today’s society, every day is a struggle. Everyone is living in this moment right now and you’re supposed to understand everything going on and you don’t understand so I choose to trust,” he said. “One day at a time is what I keep hearing. It’s hard because you want to do it all now because what if you don’t have the next day, we don’t know what God has in store for us. But I remember this quote, and it’s one of the most touching things that I’ve ever encountered. It’s from John Lennon, and it’s how I define success. He said, ‘It’s not about the people you sit with; it’s about the people you help before you die.’”
