David Johnston

[From 50th Reunion Yearbook...]


BA English Columbia College 1961; MA Modern European History Columbia University 1964; MA Guidance and MEd Administration TC, CU 1972

US Navy 1961-63; Columbia College Assoc. Dir. Admissions 1963-1968; Columbia University International Alumni Assoc, Ass't Dir. 1968-70; CU School of Engineering Dir Admissions & Financial Aid 1975-77; Tenafly HS, NJ Guidance Counselor, Acting Dir 1977-92

Widow Janet, son Matthew 31, daughter Kate 28, sister Judy Johnston Kreh Northfield ‘55



Dave provided the following glimpse of his life for our 25th Reunion in 1982:

After four years on the hill, life in New York at Columbia was a welcome entry into the joys of civilization. As an English major, oarsman and fraternity member, I found life to be enjoyable without being too demanding. Four years of NROTC earned me two years on the not so lovely island of Guam, which is the antithesis of New York City. We kept our sanity by making reasonably frequent trips to Japan and a cruise to Taiwan, Okinawa and Hong Kong, but these were balanced by trips to nowhere. When a volcano blew up on the island of Pagan last year, I could say, “I’ve been there!”

Back from Guam meant back to Columbia and New York City, first as graduate student, then admissions interviewer, then Assistant Director of Admissions for Alma Mater. With a steady income and good “prospects,” there were no more excuses, and I married Janet Fraser in 1965. We had known each other since college days, so this was not surprise to our friends. She taught in several private schools in the city, while I worked at Columbia, first in admissions and then in University Development and Alumni Affairs: with two incomes, we were flush. Remember how far $11,000 went in those pre-inflation days? As my thirtieth birthday rolled around, I realized that I was getting nowhere in terms of a career. After much thought and hesitancy, I returned to graduate school, this time to Teachers College to become a Guidance Counselor. Two more years of education led to a degree and employment in New Jersey. Believe me, moving from New York and breaking the ties to Columbia was a very difficult procedure.

I lasted three years in Glen Rock before they decided that staff reductions were in order and put me on the unemployment line. The fall of 1975 was unbelievable. I started work back at Columbia on the last Monday in September, Janet signed a contract with a local school board on Friday, and that evening the adoption agency called to tell us we had a son. Matthew came to us at the age of five weeks the following Monday, and we are still recovering. Two miserable years as Director of Undergraduate Engineering Admissions followed, until I was lucky to be able to return to counseling, this time in Tenafly, N.J., a twenty-minute drive from my home in Ridgewood. The last major happening was the arrival of three-week-old Kate in February, 1978, also by adoption.







I am a fortunate man. I have a job I love, a beautiful, healthy family I love, and my own good health. I look forward to hearing about the lives of the rest of the Class of ’57.



Janet Johnston:

[Dave had] very fond and special memories of his years at Mount Hermon. He spoke often of his deep appreciation of the wonderful faculty who inspired him, and of the friends he knew. He always believed that his experiences there were character defining and confidence building. He credited MH with instilling its values, ethics and ideals in his life. His choice of a career in service to young people, in high school guidance, he proudly credited to his attending MH.







Those formative years, he believed, were a major influence on his becoming the person he was – a devoted husband and father, a compassionate friend, and a dedicated student advocate. Family was paramount in his life, and the students he worked with at Tenafly HS became an extension of that dedication. He was held in high esteem by his fellow educators and was awarded the Distinguished Teachers Award the year prior to his diagnosis, a humbling and very proud moment for Dave. The guidance suite at Tenafly was renamed and dedicated in his memory. His love of reading (anything and everything!) and his enjoyment of music and the arts were again, a legacy from MH. He often recalled the inspirational services in the Chapel, and at one time considered entering the ministry.

His home was his castle and the yard was his domain. He was actively involved in our children’s sports programs and scouting, with our church and Sunday school program, and with Habitat for Humanity.

He was not here with us during most of our son Matt’s HS years and missed all of Kate’s. They especially felt the loss of his guidance and support during those difficult decision-making years. How proud he would be of them – Matt with his MA in Urban Planning and Regional Development from Cornell University, and Kat a successful IT, loving her work in Manhattan. We miss him terribly.

I am grateful to have been made so welcome by the MH Class of ’57. I am enclosing a poem written in Dave’s memory, by a Tenafly colleague, Dana Holley Maloney, which truly captures the essence of Dave. He is deeply missed. I hope his friends of 50 years will feel his presence as they read her memorial tribute to this wonderful man.



The Weaver’s Eyes



At the funeral the minister asked us

to send up a memory of this man

whose absence our minds will not admit.

I did not know him long in time,

but quickly he let me know him.

That was his way. He did not like

to see people alone; he drew them in.

When I think of him, I remember a moment

when he let me see with his eyes.

He said one word. He said “we”.

We had been separate – a teacher,

a student, a counselor. But his gentle

voice, like a wand, transformed us.

We opened our eyes to see what we

had become: one in purpose, responsible

for one another. That was how he saw

things: as we all know they should be.

But he did not accept that should

did not mean will. He was a weaver

of people, stringing mind to mind and

heart to heart. He made us believe

we could do anything - together.

Filling the church that day

were the many “we”s he was part of –

family, friends, students. Young and

older than he was. In each group

there was a space where we knew he

should be. Yet each group was woven

tight, a fabric only he could have wrought.

A sign he had been there. When the men

marched in, we waited for him

to follow, smiling, moving in a way

that would comfort all of us. But that day

he could not come. That day we knew,

as we know now, he can never leave us

either. When we look into each other’s eyes,

we know, he sees us too.

- Dana Holley Maloney



Gordon Valentine, MH ’57: During our 30th reunion ('87), I roomed with Dave Johnston. We were up most of the night sharing thoughts and life experiences. Dave was one of the finest, and I look back on this time together as a blessing. We were all saddened by his passing several years later.