Bill Clinton won reelection in 1996 promising to “build a bridge to the 21st century.” But when newsman Jim Johnson went to read that memorable phrase on the radio, it came out as “build a bridge to the 21st secretary,” a malapropism echoing the president’s famous roving eye.
“Jim Johnson was a professional news gatherer and on-air reporter with amazing punchlines lurking in the weeds,” said radio icon Steve Dahl.
Mr. Johnson, who managed to straddle the divide between serious news and ribald humor, died Friday near Kansas City, Missouri, where he had gone to live near his family. He was 80.
In an industry where talent generally survives by hopping from station to station, Mr. Johnson spent his entire career, almost half a century, at WLS-AM (890).
“He was very adaptable,” remembered WLS co-host Catherine Johns, “when instead of doing straight news — a 25-second report from City Hall — they asked him to become a co-anchor, part of a morning show. He adapted to that. When the format changed to talk, he adapted to that. He worked well with all of us, with Fred Winston and Steve Dahl and Garry Meier and Roe Conn.”
“I spent 50 years behind the microphone,” Winston said. “Jimmy was the fastest, funniest cat I ever worked with. He was a multitalent, a personality, aside from being a top-shelf, excellent investigative journalist. He was funny, and he was warm, and he was irreverent, and he was loved by everybody.”
“One of the nicest and genuinely funny people I have ever worked with,” Dahl agreed.
“He’s dyslexic and would type up his stuff, then hand write over it,” said Conn, who worked with Mr. Johnson for 20 years. “He rarely used a computer screen to do the news. He liked to read it off the paper and would get lost in his own handwriting. He had these amazing ‘Jim-isms.'”
“Fighting AIDS” turned into “fighting eggs.” “Vice President Biden” morphed into “Vice President Bin Laden.” Then there were the “nine men who were killed to death.”
“He had this reel of these things we could constantly play,” Conn said. “It was drop-dead, laugh-out-loud funny.”
And if you think Mr. Johnson’s gaffes don’t belong in his obituary, think again.
“He would be so offended if you didn’t have fun with this,” said his daughter, Kansas City newscaster Alexis Del Cid. “The greatest way to honor my dad was humor.”
Mr. Johnson was born in Chicago. His parents were Mae and Charley Johnson, a reporter at City News in the 1930s and later with the Chicago Sun.
Mr. Johnson went to school at the University of Illinois- Urbana Champaign, where he met his future wife, Denise Davlantes. After getting his master’s in radio and TV, he went to work at WLS.
He arrived back in Chicago just in time for the riots at the 1968 Democratic National Convention and all the surrounding unrest. He once had his tape recorder smashed by rioting Roosevelt University students. When a Bensenville woman called WLS in 1988 to say she was on the same floor as a sniper, Johnson kept her on the line for an hour of gripping eyewitness reports.
“He was the perfect newsman for a radio talk show,” Conn said. “He really does care about getting it right.”
Mr. Johnson loved northern Wisconsin and owned a cabin there.
He retired in 2013 and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2019, two days after his sister, Elaine Quasius, died of the disease.
“He handled this entire diagnosis with such grace and courage and humility,” his daughter said. “He said, ‘I’m not going to ask, why me? Because why not me? Things happen to everyone.’ I found that so powerful. He was sweet until the very end.”
In addition to his wife and daughter, survivors include a grandson, Kingston, and sister Rosalie Davies.
“My friends just loved him,” Del Cid said. “Even after I left for college, some of my friends would come over and talk to my dad if they were having a rough time because he made them feel so much better. He was so calm. Such a good listener. You felt seen. He was so kind.”
Mr. Johnson had a strategy for surviving workplace changes.
“He always said, ‘Keep your head down, put your armor on and stay focused,'” his daughter said. “Whenever I was going through a rough time, he said, ‘Never let a bad boss drive you out of a good job.'”
Once, she asked her father what was on his bucket list.
“We were standing in the kitchen, and he looked at me with this twinkle in his eye and a sweep of his hands and said, ‘I’m doing it. All of this. This is my bucket list. I’m doing what I want.’ And I thought, ‘Damn! What a way to live!'”
Services are pending.