Norm Johnson wore many hats, a military uniform and even a pair of dancing shoes. His life spanned the Korean War, “Jailhouse Rock,” riots in L.A.
and the Mint 400. Johnson was a Korean War vet who served as Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s bodyguard.
He was a backing dancer for Elvis Presley in “Jailhouse Rock,” covered the Watts riots as a young reporter, and was a co-founder of the famed Mint 400 road race. Johnson died Friday night at the home of his longtime friend Nancy Barr. He was 91.
He had been in hospice care for the previous two days. Johnson’s heart had been failing since he suffered a dislocated shoulder in a fall in June. “He was ready,” Barr said Saturday morning.
“I think he was just tired of dealing with one thing after another. He was a dear man, he accomplished so much and had a full life.” Johnson was full of life, too.
A bodyguard, and dancer A a Valentine’s Day baby, born in 1933, Johnson enlisted in the U.S. Air Force in 1950 at age 17, after repeatedly cutting class and being given the choice of enlisting in the military or being ordered to a detention center.
Johnson eventually served in the Korean War as a special security detail for Gen. MacArthur. Johnson had the qualifications; he had earned a black belt in jujitsu in his early teens.
Johnson studied journalism while overseas. He also had a passion for performance, and studied dance in his original home in San Diego. He won a dance contest at a club on the Sunset Strip in L.
A. Choreographer Alex Romero, who was working with Presley, saw Johnson’s moves and invited him into the “Jailhouse Rock” cast. “That’s the only reason I was in the movie, because the choreographer happened to be there that night,” Johnson once said.
Johnson was believed to be the last surviving member of the dance troupe from the iconic dance troupe. ‘I drove through hell’ Johnson later worked as a sports writer for Copley News Service in L.A.
, which owned about 120 newspapers nationwide. He’d covered a Dodgers-Mets game at Dodger Stadium on Aug. 11, 1965, alongside a buddy who was with the Los Angeles Police Department.
The lieutenant was summoned to a press-box phone to take a call from a superior, and was told to report downtown to quell rapidly escalating violence. “He says, ‘Norm, do you mind driving me to Watts?’ They need a couple of senior officers down there,’” Johnson said in an interview in 2020, after the George Floyd protests erupted in downtown Las Vegas. “The only reason I drove us that night was because I had reserved media parking.
” Johnson, who was also called to work what would be known as the Watts riots or Watts Rebellion, recalls making a right-hand turn off 100th street onto Main, driving directly into what he describes as “a full-scale riot.” “We were going through neighborhoods and seeing folks on their porches, then I made the turn onto Main Street and all hell had broken loose,” Johnson said. “We stopped at a phone booth, and it was surrounded, people trying to push it over.
The lieutenant fired a shot into a wall and everyone scrambled.” Johnson called in the first sentence of his story from that phone booth: “I drove through hell last night.” On a night that began with coverage of Dodger pitcher Don Drysale pitching a 1-0 shutout, Johnson’s story about the Watts riots was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize.
The Mint 400 and Hunter S . Johnson moved to Las Vegas soon after, largely because of that violent event. He was hired by Hank Greenspun as a sports writer at the Las Vegas Sun.
Fascinated with race cars of all types, he read a story about the Baja 1000 off-road race, “Six or nine Jeeps that went down to Baja, and I thought it would be fun to try that here. The Mint 400 was hatched, opening in 1968. Johnson was on the staff when Hunter S.
Thompson checked into the 1971 race. Thompson was assigned by Rolling Stone magazine to write a chronicle of the event. His work would become the miraculous tome “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
” Johnson had only brief correspondence with Thompson. “I met him and knew how dopey and crazy he was, and I think I even had a drink with him, but that’s the only direct contact I had with him,” Johnson said in 2009. Johnson was brought on as a consultant for the film of the same name starring Johnny Depp as Thompson.
Johnson warned against scenes showing motorcycles racing side-by-side against dune buggies and pick-up trucks. Those scenes were used anyway. Johnson later joked, “I still got paid as a consultant, even though they didn’t listen to me.
” His friend of 47 years Jackie Brett recalls Johnson telling a story at an event years ago, where he spoke of entering a business with Harry Reid raising earthworms. Brett told Johnson, “I think you’ve stepped out of bounds here. I doubt that happened.
” Reid was a guest at the event. Johnson led Brett over to Reid, and said, “Tell Jackie about the earthworms.” And Reid said, “It was the only time I lost money.
” Brett recalls Johnson was a fine sculptor, and a prolific writer who authored, “Four Planes Started, Only Two Finished: How Eight Army Pilots Circled the Globe in 1924.” A late-arriving honor In 2017 and at age 84, Johnson was awarded his diploma for his years at San Diego High School. He had earned his General Equivalency Diploma in Korea, and later studied journalism at San Diego City College.
But he never thought of his high-school days until he learned of the Veterans Diploma Project in 2016, when he took an Honor Flight to Washington with a few other surviving Korean War Air Force servicemen. He was finally awarded his diploma at the San Diego County Office of Education. The document recognizes students who left high school prior to graduation to enlist in the armed forces.
“I hadn’t expected to become so emotional about it,” said Johnson, who wore a cap and gown for the event in San Diego. “But when I held it, my eyes welled up. It is a very powerful feeling.
” In his later years, Johnson was a freelance PR rep and wrote an online city column. He wrote of vintage Vegas entertainment and his memories over the decades. He once said, chatting of the city’s explosive greatness, “This place is getting too big, too fast.
But when I moved here, Vegas was a great place. I came at the right time.” Cool Hang Alert In Johnson’s honor, and recognizing one of his best friends, Bob Anderson is back at Italian American Club on Oct.
18-19, performing a dual Frank Sinatra-Tony Bennett tribute. Full makeup, for the Sinatra set, just like Anderson’s show at Palazzo Theater nearly a decade ago. Go to iacvegas.
com. Norm would be smiling at this plug..
