I was cursing under my breath and it turned into a cloud of vapor as I got out of my car in the Burger King parking lot. It was frigid and snow lazed about in messy patches. As I hurried inside, I was met with the figure of a kind old man; this man was Larry Johns. I met him on Craigslist while selling my PSP. Talking to him was like talking to an old friend.
Johns rose from humble beginnings in rural South Dakota and Nebraska, essentially raising his six siblings while his mother found solace in a bottle. He became a nurse practitioner in 1970 and moved to Omaha. After winning his own battle with alcoholism, he became a foster parent to young men. Johns regularly cooks breakfast for an Alcoholics Anonymous group and frequently travels down to Mexico to donate small goods and electronics.
After visiting the State of Jalisco with a family he met while working at an Iowa state park, a love affair with Mexico as colorful as any Frida Kahlo or Diego Rivera painting began. There, Johns experienced the realities of life for rural Mexico. The family ranch where he was staying was extremely impoverished. There was no plumbing and occasional electricity.
“When I slept, I’d hear noises up in the rafters and later asked what they were: “Ratas” they told me. Rats,” said Johns. “None landed on me. Perhaps they don’t care for gringos.”
Johns traveled from Sioux City to San Miguel el Alto, Santa Maria del Valle, and San Julian, and, in doing so, fell in love with a farming woman. Johns celebrated his first marriage at the age of 60.
During one visit to Guadalajara, Johns was in need of a haircut. He found the nearest barber shop and was greeted by two tiny, smiling faces. One was that of a girl, aged 10, and a boy of about eight. They were busy doing homework when their mother came out and greeted Johns, sitting him down for his haircut. Johns got to visiting with the working family and decided that he wanted to do something special for them.
“I asked them what they wanted, but I already had formed the idea an my head,” Johns said. “About six months later, I visited them and came into the hair salon with a PlayStation behind my back. The kids were doing homework but looked up at me and were grinning from ear to ear. Their eyes were just dancing. They were just so ecstatic and very appreciative. Their mother was so thankful and, for the kids, it was like Christmas. Better than Christmas. Another family I met really touched me. The father was a rugged and scrawny and the wife was just a really sweet lady. They were really struggling to make ends meet. They even took in a boy whose family wasn’t supplying him with food, despite already having five or six kids of their own while struggling to put bread on the table. The kids were all running around, just playing pretend and having fun how I used to when I was their age. I wanted to get them a game, so I asked their father, I always ask the parents first, if I could bring them a PlayStation. He said no, and I asked why. He told me that they didn’t have electricity.”
So, Johns began looking for PSPs and other gaming systems that could be charged via truck battery. Thus began a tradition of giving back to the people of rural Mexico. Johns has travelled down to Mexico over 15 times, sometimes for a week, sometimes for up to three months at a time, always giving back. Though he prefers the comfort of a plane ride, he most often takes a bus to Guadalajara, a whopping 52 hour trek. Each time, he brings with him phones, sewing machines, gaming systems, and clothes.
“I kept going back because I really do love it down there,” said Johns. “They’re so accepting, they accept me like one of their own. My family owns a tiny, one room store on the ranch next to the school, and when I am there, I always buy each child a soda and a bag of chips. They think I am Santa, I believe. And although the two day trip is a pain, I’m a low-income senior, so what can I do? At least I can take more things.”
When I met Johns, he was staying in Omaha while being treated for prostate cancer. After eight weeks of fierce radiation therapy and nearly a year later, Johns is in remission. Despite the obstacles set forth in front of him, Johns overcame.
“I try to put to use things that we might otherwise throw away here,” said Johns. “I think of the little kids, the boy no older than twelve years old who’s driving down the road in a beat up truck with no muffler. And he’s proud. But then I think, what if I was able to get him a cheap cell phone and take that down there? It wouldn’t be that much on my part but it’d open him up to the world. The kids beaming from ear to ear over inexpensive things, that’s the real reward. When you experience the need of the people down there and experience what it takes just tickle some people, it makes you want to give more.”
Larry Johns lives in a cozy apartment with his wife and drives a little old car. Nothing glamorous, but it works.
“I wish more than anything that I could win a big lottery. I’d go to Mexico and have a ball. I remember a kid in the plaza who would shine shoes, but his shoe shining kit wasn’t very good and he was just trying to get enough to eat. Once I gave him forty dollars for a tip after he shone by tennis shoes, and what a difference that made,” said Johns. “What if I could buy a farmer a new tractor or electricity? Just walking around, and not spoiling but making a difference, maybe set up a trust fund for the women who throw bread so they could always do that. That would be the dream of my lifetime. That’d be so much fun.”
Larry Johns embodies the spirit of giving, and, as I reflect on the honor of having been able to get to know this wonderful man and tell his story, I am appreciative that there are people out there in the world like him. Even in places you wouldn’t necessarily expect...like on an ad for a used PSP on Craigslist.
“I remember we had a teacher in grade school who told us to write a letter to our future selves that talked about what impact we wanted to have on the world. Maybe twenty years or so after graduation, I got back my letter...I was just surprised that what I had written wasn't totally off from how I turned out. Maybe me raising my brothers and sisters and dealing with alcoholism wasn’t bad for me but was good. It took an otherwise self-centered person and taught me that I’m not the only person in the world. I’m more excited as a 70 year old to get to go down there giving these kids inexpensive things than a kid here who receives a Christmas present worth hundreds of dollars. It’s terrifically rewarding and it’s so easy to do.”
So, a year ago, after hearing his inspiring tale, we went our separate ways. I walked back to my car, forty dollars in my back pocket. Larry Johns crossed the street to his hotel, PSP in hand.
The next day, I was walking up to HyVee and a jolly old woman stood outside, braving the cold and ringing a bell for the Salvation Army. I thought of the two kids in that barber shop in a village in Mexico, their faces lit up in excitement as an old man with white hair and rosy cheeks gave them an unexpected surprise. My breath turned into a cloud of vapor as I dropped the two twenties into the red bucket. The jolly woman gave me a nod and said thank you. And, for that, I was all the more rich.
If you wish to donate clothing, funds, or small electronics to the families in rural Mexico aided by Larry Johns, email the author at dylan.miettinen@gmail.com.