I first got to know Johnny Sweet in the third grade, at our neighborhood school, Clifton Elementary School. He liked to laugh. He energized my day.
One of my earliest memories of him was, when we were 8 years old, and were exploring the small forest, a few feet away from my Parents' home. We had discovered a rock, about 15" long and 3" deep. "Wow," I said, "this looks so strong, it will never break!" "I can, " he said. We searched my Dad's garage, and found a very large hammer. Johnny grabbed it, went to the rock and swung three times as hard as he could. The first time, the rock did not budge, and the hammer bounced up. The claws hit Johnny in his forehead, causing it to bleed. Unfazed by the blood dripping down his face, Johnny swung again, and again. On the third hit, the rock broke. I saw his wound, and yelled, "MOM!" Mom came, washed his forehead, and applied a band aid. Johhny never cried, but quietly smiled through the whole thing. (Decades later, I could still see a faded scar on his upper left forehead.)
(Maybe he was inspired, like Winston Churchill who said "a crisis is a terrible thing to waste")
He embraced challenges...he knew that the experiences would make him stronger.
That same year, he told me that during the last Thanksgiving Dinner, many of his family members assembled at his home. When he saw the turkey was in the kitchen, he volunteered to take it to the dining room. After grabbing the platter, he stumbled, and dropped the turkey. The platter broke in pieces. "AYE" an adult screamed, "our family ancester carried this platter safely over the Appalachian Mountains, and you can't even carry it to the dining room!!" When he told me that, he was shaking his head, but, smiling, as if to say: "I'll do better next time!"
He embraced challenges...he knew that the experiences would make him stronger.
As we entered Walnut Hills High School, he would visit with me from time to time, at my Parents; home. He would ask to play me in ping pong. Because I would play once or twice a week with my Day, I was more experienced, and won every game. But, at some level, I kind of wanted him to win. He was so intent on his game. If he missed a shot, he would stand back up, and tap the table with his paddle, as if to say "let's try that again, I can do better". I felt that, without throwing the game myself, just to give him a W, I would be happy to see him win, as I knew he would celebrate his win, and not my defeat..
(We didn't see each other much during our high school years, but, in my senior Rembrancer, he wrote:"Good Luck Dick....someday I am going to beat you in ping pong.")
One Friday, during that first year of high school, I stayed overnight at his Parents' home.on Woolper Avernue. Thier diner table that night was attended by some adult friends of his Parents. During one of the discussions, one of the guests, looked at John, and said something like: "well, I hope you appreicate your Mother and the pain she endured to give birth to your 3-pound body...and 5-POUND HEAD!" Ha ha, the adults laughed. John and I rolled our eyes, and managed to bet dismissed shortly after that.
We went to John's room upstairs, where he had saved a dozen small balloons and just as many rubber bands. In the upstairs bathroom, we filled those little balloowns with water and tied them closed. As the adults continued their talk downstairs, we went back to his room. We crawled through his window and walked onto the roof of the front porch which faced the street. From our position, we were about 30 feet from cars traveling up and down the street. It was dark. We were rebellious. We were tired of people from the adult world telling us WHAT to do, HOW to do it, and WHEN to do it. So, we acted out our frustration by tossing balloons at the passing vehicles. We were poor shots, missing most of the time, but hitting a few. Once, the driver of one of the cars hit, stopped in the middle of the street, stuck his head out of the window, searching for culprit, but we were not on the street. We were flattened out on the roof, above the street. TA DA !! Of the two of us, Johnny gave the loudest WHOHAA!
He embraced challenges...the experiences made him stronger.
In 2016, on the Friday night of our class' reunion, John walked into the room. I went to greet him. He was having difficulty talking, and said nothing. But, his eyes were bright, and he recognized me. With a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, he hugged m for a long time, then, kissed me on the cheek, as if to say "Dick, someday, I am going to beat you in ping pong". I know we would have both enjoyed that happening.
He embraced challenges...the experiences made him stronger.
John, I so appreciate you being in my life. Knowing you made me appreciate every day, and look for the positive energy each day could bring. Your behavior convinced me of the truth that, "as you travel the road of life, happiness is not the destination, it is a by-product ot the journey." YIPPEE!!
Thank you Dick and the others posting remembrances. John was one of the most important persons in my life. Quite simply, he was truer to his principles more than anyone I have ever met or even read about. Very few people know off his courage, determination, and dedication to righteous causes and that is how he liked it. He will forever be my hero. I miss him every day.
I will always remember John's extraordinary compassion when he invited me to attend the Walnuts with him our senior year. That was the year there was a height requirement for the Pony Chorus and I was the only girl who didn't meet it. I was grateful for his kindness, I admired his exemplary character. I know he will be missed by the many people whose life he touched.
Johnny Sweet was an original – a lover of life, which he fully embraced, indeed swallowed whole!
He was a social change agent of the highest order. Whether as a friend, a folk singer, organizer of trips to Cuba in college, a kids’ soccer coach, an attorney for the greater good, an elected official, a devoted family member, etc., etc., etc.., his life, his mission, his passion was about bending the moral arc toward justice.
We are the less without him and the more for having known him, loved him and been loved by him. He touched so many of us in such profound ways. The ripples of his time here continue on.
His life was his gift. How lucky we were to receive it.
Richard C. Drayson
I first got to know Johnny Sweet in the third grade, at our neighborhood school, Clifton Elementary School. He liked to laugh. He energized my day.
One of my earliest memories of him was, when we were 8 years old, and were exploring the small forest, a few feet away from my Parents' home. We had discovered a rock, about 15" long and 3" deep. "Wow," I said, "this looks so strong, it will never break!" "I can, " he said. We searched my Dad's garage, and found a very large hammer. Johnny grabbed it, went to the rock and swung three times as hard as he could. The first time, the rock did not budge, and the hammer bounced up. The claws hit Johnny in his forehead, causing it to bleed. Unfazed by the blood dripping down his face, Johnny swung again, and again. On the third hit, the rock broke. I saw his wound, and yelled, "MOM!" Mom came, washed his forehead, and applied a band aid. Johhny never cried, but quietly smiled through the whole thing. (Decades later, I could still see a faded scar on his upper left forehead.)
(Maybe he was inspired, like Winston Churchill who said "a crisis is a terrible thing to waste")
He embraced challenges...he knew that the experiences would make him stronger.
That same year, he told me that during the last Thanksgiving Dinner, many of his family members assembled at his home. When he saw the turkey was in the kitchen, he volunteered to take it to the dining room. After grabbing the platter, he stumbled, and dropped the turkey. The platter broke in pieces. "AYE" an adult screamed, "our family ancester carried this platter safely over the Appalachian Mountains, and you can't even carry it to the dining room!!" When he told me that, he was shaking his head, but, smiling, as if to say: "I'll do better next time!"
He embraced challenges...he knew that the experiences would make him stronger.
As we entered Walnut Hills High School, he would visit with me from time to time, at my Parents; home. He would ask to play me in ping pong. Because I would play once or twice a week with my Day, I was more experienced, and won every game. But, at some level, I kind of wanted him to win. He was so intent on his game. If he missed a shot, he would stand back up, and tap the table with his paddle, as if to say "let's try that again, I can do better". I felt that, without throwing the game myself, just to give him a W, I would be happy to see him win, as I knew he would celebrate his win, and not my defeat..
(We didn't see each other much during our high school years, but, in my senior Rembrancer, he wrote:"Good Luck Dick....someday I am going to beat you in ping pong.")
One Friday, during that first year of high school, I stayed overnight at his Parents' home.on Woolper Avernue. Thier diner table that night was attended by some adult friends of his Parents. During one of the discussions, one of the guests, looked at John, and said something like: "well, I hope you appreicate your Mother and the pain she endured to give birth to your 3-pound body...and 5-POUND HEAD!" Ha ha, the adults laughed. John and I rolled our eyes, and managed to bet dismissed shortly after that.
We went to John's room upstairs, where he had saved a dozen small balloons and just as many rubber bands. In the upstairs bathroom, we filled those little balloowns with water and tied them closed. As the adults continued their talk downstairs, we went back to his room. We crawled through his window and walked onto the roof of the front porch which faced the street. From our position, we were about 30 feet from cars traveling up and down the street. It was dark. We were rebellious. We were tired of people from the adult world telling us WHAT to do, HOW to do it, and WHEN to do it. So, we acted out our frustration by tossing balloons at the passing vehicles. We were poor shots, missing most of the time, but hitting a few. Once, the driver of one of the cars hit, stopped in the middle of the street, stuck his head out of the window, searching for culprit, but we were not on the street. We were flattened out on the roof, above the street. TA DA !! Of the two of us, Johnny gave the loudest WHOHAA!
He embraced challenges...the experiences made him stronger.
In 2016, on the Friday night of our class' reunion, John walked into the room. I went to greet him. He was having difficulty talking, and said nothing. But, his eyes were bright, and he recognized me. With a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, he hugged m for a long time, then, kissed me on the cheek, as if to say "Dick, someday, I am going to beat you in ping pong". I know we would have both enjoyed that happening.
He embraced challenges...the experiences made him stronger.
John, I so appreciate you being in my life. Knowing you made me appreciate every day, and look for the positive energy each day could bring. Your behavior convinced me of the truth that, "as you travel the road of life, happiness is not the destination, it is a by-product ot the journey." YIPPEE!!
Aloha,
Dick Drayson
Barry W. Gendelman
Thank you Dick and the others posting remembrances. John was one of the most important persons in my life. Quite simply, he was truer to his principles more than anyone I have ever met or even read about. Very few people know off his courage, determination, and dedication to righteous causes and that is how he liked it. He will forever be my hero. I miss him every day.
Jane F. Martin (Burkey)
I will always remember John's extraordinary compassion when he invited me to attend the Walnuts with him our senior year. That was the year there was a height requirement for the Pony Chorus and I was the only girl who didn't meet it. I was grateful for his kindness, I admired his exemplary character. I know he will be missed by the many people whose life he touched.
John A. Steiner
Johnny Sweet was an original – a lover of life, which he fully embraced, indeed swallowed whole!
He was a social change agent of the highest order. Whether as a friend, a folk singer, organizer of trips to Cuba in college, a kids’ soccer coach, an attorney for the greater good, an elected official, a devoted family member, etc., etc., etc.., his life, his mission, his passion was about bending the moral arc toward justice.
We are the less without him and the more for having known him, loved him and been loved by him. He touched so many of us in such profound ways. The ripples of his time here continue on.
His life was his gift. How lucky we were to receive it.