His friends would probably say it was his smile. His family members would claim it was his good looks. If you ask me, I think he just had a special gift.
Whatever “it” was, Braxton Daryl Johnson exuded it from every fiber of his being. He had a particular ability to make everyone love him. He was one of those radiant personalities who lit up the room with his presence and caused hearts to flutter when he smiled.
He told me a few years ago that his likeability was the secret to his success in the car-selling industry, which helped him garner the title “salesman of the month” for three months in a row at Gem Mazda. “If you get people to like you, they’ll buy anything from you, including a car,” he rightfully boasted, celebrating his accomplishments.
Braxton was always that way. Everywhere he went, he became “most popular” or homecoming king and a household name among his peers as well as adults. There was not one place in Tampa I could go where people my age wouldn’t know him. It was this specific attribute about him that made me avoid going to whatever high school he attended. I knew I was doomed to be “Braxton’s little sister” for the rest of my teenage existence. “And I wanted a boyfriend!” in my 15-year-old mind. No one would dare cross the line and risk his friendship with Braxton by dating his little sister.
By the time Braxton left for college, he had attended two elementary schools, two middle schools and two high schools. He ran track, played baseball, started as a punt returner in football and did a brief stint in the band. With three additional siblings, a mother who was an infamous radio personality, and a father who published a black newspaper in the Tampa Bay area, he had no choice but to take the spotlight and to own it until his own light went out.
I remember the day of the funeral and how people of all colors and ages came out to support my family. I saw old teachers, neighbors, friends and people I had just about forgotten. But nobody forgot about Braxton. The day he died was the day I was able to see the network he spent 22 years creating reveal a beautiful mosaic of effortless diversity. It was clear to everyone in the church that Braxton never saw color.
My brother, even after his death, never ceased to amaze me. I did not know about the people he bailed out of jail or let stay with him or brought to God or helped get through a hard time. His life was miraculous. And because he was a great Connector, I know his legacy will live to the end of time, because the people who love him will continue to share it.
What a moving tribute to your brother!
ReplyDeleteIsn't it great that family and friends can now go online and leave messages (e.g., the "N-Touch Tribute") that never fade away? Learning about a person you may not have known through the eyes of many others who did know him/her is a gift.
This was beautiful Kindall! It's always special to have those fond memories of someone and be able to share those beautiful things with the world. R.I.P. to you brother. You are following in his footsteps! This was moving in all the right ways.
ReplyDelete-LaToya Chambliss