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BY JEFF DEAN TIMES LEADER CORRESPONDENT
Tuesday, February 08, 2000     Page: 4

Grade-school nemeses eventually fell hard for each otherFor Times
Leader/JOHN KASKO Sharon and Michael Johnson relax in their Lake Nuangola
home with their dog Stuart, the only `baby’ left in the household. The couple
met in grade school, but it’d be tough to call them grade-school sweethearts.
By JEFF DEAN Times Leader Correspondent OK, so maybe for Sharon and Michael
Johnson it wasn’t exactly love at first sight. “He knocked me down and ran
over me with his bicycle,” Sharon explains from her home on Lake Nuangola,
remembering the day 41 years ago, at the age of 10, when she first met her
husband-to-be. “I think he was trying to get my attention.” Michael,
executive vice president of commercial real estate for Lewith and Freeman,
clears his throat and interjects. “I just want to say that I don’t remember
it that way.” He never explains how he does remember it, though. Undaunted
by his first failed attempt, Michael tried again four years later – by
planting a dozen stolen street signs in Sharon’s back yard. “I woke up one
morning to find all these `Child Crossing’ signs in my back yard,” Sharon
says with a laugh. “Poles and all.” Classmates at Lafayette Middle School
and Meyers High School in the 1960s, growing up just two streets away from
each other in a south Wilkes-Barre neighborhood, Sharon and Michael saw a lot
of each other over the years, no question. The only thing is, they couldn’t
stand each other. Or at least, they acted as if they couldn’t stand each
other. “I really had no feelings one way or the other about her,” Michael
says with a sheepish grin. “I used to tell on him so he’d get in trouble,”
Sharon retorts. So when they graduated from high school in 1966, it looked to
everyone as if they would forever go their separate ways – which meant North
Carolina and the Marines for Michael and New York City and a job with
Icelandic Air for Sharon. “But one night I was at a party in the Poconos
with some friends, and we decided to head into New York City,” Michael says.
Then he shrugs. “Somehow we just ended up at Sharon’s door.” Sharon, who is
now studying for her real-estate exam, remembers that night well, too. “I
thought to myself, `He’s not as bad as he used to be in high school. Then I
whispered to my friend, `You know, I really find him quite attractive now.’
She thought I’d had a breakdown. I’ve always thought of it like we rekindled a
friendship we never had.” As it turns out, of course, that meeting was the
start of a beautiful friendship, and two years later, during the Summer of
Love (1969), they married. Fourteen months later, Sharon gave birth to their
first daughter, Heather. Two years after that, with Michael working part time
with the Marine Reserves and full time in his father’s real-estate firm,
Tropical Storm Agnes rolled in and all but wiped out their home, their
belongings and their finances. “We had a 2-year-old baby and four feet of
water on the second floor of our house,” Michael says. “I was called into
active duty for flood relief, so Sharon and I were separated. The house was
destroyed. We lived in an HUD trailer in the driveway.” And grass was
growing on the ceiling of their home. “I had just laid grass seed in the
yard,” says Sharon, “and with all the flood mud, we had grass growing off
everything. I couldn’t get over that. It was terrible.” But the Johnsons
stuck together, recovered, and a year later had their second daughter, Maggie.
“We grew up with our children, really,” Michael says. “I think that has a
lot to do with why we’re still together.” Sharon agrees. “We had wonderful
support from our parents, too. When I think back, I realize our kids never had
to spend time in the care of someone who wasn’t a family member.” Now, six
months from their 31st anniversary, three years since their youngest daughter
moved away for good, the Johnsons say they can tell in a glance what the other
is thinking and that intimacy is one of the most gratifying aspects of their
marriage. “We can finish each other’s sentences almost,” Sharon says.
“It’s scary; it really is, but it’s nice, too. It’s a blessing. A lot of
people don’t have that closeness, and it makes me sad because they miss the
wonder of that kind of relationship.” Asked to share their secret for
maintaining a marriage in times when marriages are easily dissolved, the
Johnsons credit their genuine friendship, even during the tumultuous
middle-school years, and their numerous common interests. “Things aren’t so
scary when you go through them together,” Sharon says. “We’ve had very low
times, but we’ve had very high times as well. And together we’ve been able to
watch our daughters grow into wonderful people.” That thought gets Michael
thinking back himself, to the first time they brought their daughter home from
the hospital. “The first night we brought Heather home neither of us knew
what to do with her,” he says. “We just kept looking at her – all night. She
wasn’t crying, but we just stood there at the crib staring at her, and she
just laid there, staring back at us. She was awake, and we were awake, waiting
for her to fall asleep.” They both stop to remember and, with a glance,
understand each other. “We were so young,” Sharon says with a smile.
Michael smiles, too – and gives her a little nod.