My Remarkable Journey

by Katherine Johnson

  Astronaut Yvonne Cagle also has become like family.

  She and Joylette connected first in 2016, when Joylette and her son, Troy, attended an event sponsored by the black avaiators’ group, Shades of Blue, to receive an award on my behalf. Yvonne gave her an autographed photo to give to me, and she called me a short time after that. We began talking regularly by phone, and she said she felt horrible that she had allowed so much time to pass and that she had missed out on my mentorship. We immediately began trying to make up for lost time with what became regular Sunday afternoon chats.

  The first time the two of us saw each other face-to-face was quite special. Rehema Ellis, then a television reporter based in New York, had come to interview me in Newport News, and I didn’t know Yvonne was going to be there. She slipped in quietly, and Rehema motioned for her to come in and say hello. Yvonne was wearing her blue astronaut suit, and when I saw her, it took my breath away. There, standing in front of me, was a real, live Lieutenant Uhura. But this was not Star Trek. This was real life, my life. She reached for my hand. I reached back, and we just looked at one another silently. In that moment, the past, the present, and the future came together. My daughters and the journalists felt it, too. There were no dry eyes in the room.

  By the time I met Yvonne that day, life had begun to change dramatically for me. The years have a way of doing that. They speed up on you, slow you down, and sometimes knock you to the ground. One day you’re eighty years old, driving across the country on a girlfriends’ trip to Ohio, as my friend Mae Barbee Pleasant and I did in about 1998. Then you’re eighty-eight years old, taking boxing lessons to stay in shape, as I did in 2006. And then you’re blindsided and have to figure out how to drag yourself up and go on.

  In 2010 I lost my middle daughter, Connie. She was my alter ego, the free spirit of the bunch, the one who was untethered to places and things, who would follow her heart wherever it led. She always loved children, and when she was in college, we joked about it, calling her the “Pied Piper” because she babysat the professors’ kids and always had a string of children following her. That love for children and connection with them made her an excellent kindergarten teacher. But when the system dropped its heavy boot on her neck, began choking out her creativity, and forced her to shift to upper grades and teach toward standardized tests, she tapped out. She quit her steady teaching job and persuaded Jim and me to support her new business venture, Connie’s Trucking, by purchasing an eighteen-wheeler. She learned how to drive the big rig and spent years exploring the country in it, sometimes in the driver’s seat.

  Connie drifted back into teaching and made New Orleans her home for a while in the 1990s, when she went to help care for her friend, Elsie, who was ill. A friend of Elsie’s was a school board member, who was instantly charmed by Connie, and offered to get her a teaching job. Out of the blue one day, I received a call from my daughter, saying, “Mom, I think I’m going to stay in New Orleans.” That was Connie.

  Eventually, Connie returned to her home in Hampton to be closer to Jim and me, and she faithfully attended to us, coming over to the house to cook, plant flowers, decorate the Christmas tree, whatever was needed. When Jim reached his mid- to late eighties, Connie insisted on becoming our designated driver. “Just call me whenever you need to go somewhere,” she said. Then, quite suddenly in April 2010, she started feeling badly and had to be hospitalized. Having hidden most of her discomfort from us, she didn’t get a good report from the doctors. They let us know her condition would not improve. She was released on April 17, and her good friend Gail converted the great room in her home into a room for Connie. The two had been housemates previously and were as close as sisters. My family will forever appreciate her dedication to Connie.

  Cards and flowers filled Connie’s room, our sorority sisters brought food, and there was a constant flow of relatives and friends to visit her, including the Core twins from White Sulphur Springs, Annette and Janette, and cousins from St. Louis, Houston, and New York. Kathy and Joylette took turns staying with Connie at night, while Gail and Elsie, whom everyone called “Bunny,” took care of her during the day. Connie’s children—Gregory, Douglas, and Michele—also stayed close. Connie passed away on May 4, 2010, one of our saddest days.

  I’m still mad at Connie for leaving us so soon. But I find comfort knowing that she lived each day like it would be her last. By then I had experienced many other painful losses, including Mamà, who died at age eighty-three in 1971, and Daddy, at ninety-one in 1973. Sister died in 2002, about a year after I persuaded her to move from White Sulphur Springs to Hampton, where we had lots of family. By then she had earned her master’s degree and had retired as a teacher after forty years. Many of my friends had died too, including my best friend from college, Constance (Dit). When we lost our daughter, I was was ninety-two and Jim was eighty-four. And sure enough, life seemed to slow us down.

  In 2012 we made a big move into an assisted living retirement community. Jim and I hated to leave our home on Mimosa Crescent. How would we ever squeeze our life’s accumulation of stuff into a two-bedroom apartment? How would we adjust to losing so much of our independence? Jim was a proud man. I’d watched him jog around Hampton University’s campus and in the Homecoming parade with those young cadets until he was well into his seventies. The university’s ROTC program finally nudged him into retirement with a huge celebration when he turned eighty, perhaps because they knew he would never leave on his own. Jim also worked as a substitute teacher in Newport News until his eighties. Many mornings he’d get up at four o’clock to get dressed and wait for a call from one of the schools that needed a substitute teacher, and he would stay until the last person left. The kids kept him young and made him feel needed and appreciated. Eventually, though, my former boxing trainer Vernon Lee became Jim’s driver, taking him to the schools and to choir rehearsal. I marveled when Jim dropped to the floor to do sit-ups and push-ups to keep his washboard abs. The body held up, but the mind started to slip, a little forgetfulness here and there at first. And the girls grew worried.

  I’ve always been pretty pragmatic, so we adjusted to our new home. We’ve danced on with the help of our wonderful daughters, who have made us so proud. Kathy graduated from Hampton, went on to get her master’s degree, became a teacher for many years and then a high school counselor. Joylette returned to work after her children started school and held jobs in computer programming, system integration, and project management for several companies, most recently Lockheed Martin. Both are now retired, and they travel frequently from their homes—Kathy in North Carolina and Joylette in New Jersey—to visit. We have devoted caretakers and a steady stream of friends. My sorority sisters come every week to play bridge or bingo with me (and they think I don’t know when they let me win). We sing our sorority hymns, and I raise my hands and direct them, like old times. There’s a favorite part in one of the songs that says, “When cares of life o’er take us and our locks are turning gray, we’ll always reverence A.K.A. forever and a day.” I reach up with a smile and pat my own white hair.

  By the time the recognition came from President Obama and the White House in 2015 and later the Oscars and building dedications, Jim was unable for health reasons to make the trips with us. But when we got home the girls and I couldn’t wait to tell him all about what happened. He and I were both amazed by all the hoopla after the book and movie the following years. When I’d come back home from one event or another, Jim would chuckle and look at me as if to say, “Can you believe this, Kid?”

  Kid. That was his nickname for me when it was time for us to retire to our rooms. Our aides lined our wheelchairs facing one another for our nightly fist bump. No, I could hardly believe this remarkable journey, I thought, as our fists touched night after night.

  “Good night, Kid,” he said.

  And I smiled.

  Acknowledgments

  We are grateful that our mother lived for 101 years, but she did not make it to see the publication of thi
s memoir. She died on February 24, 2020, while it was being written. We would have to write another book to thank all of the people who brought comfort and joy to her and her devoted husband, Jim, during their later years. He preceded her in death on March 13, 2019. Thank you all for honoring and recognizing Mom and her work. She was truly humbled, grateful, and even a bit bewildered to the end by the tremendous outpouring of love, kindness, and respect.

  We are particularly thankful to the entire team at HarperCollins Publishers for seeing this book to fruition, especially our editor, Tracy Sherrod, editorial director at Amistad. This project would not have been possible without our formidable team, which includes our legal representative and friend, Donyale Reavis, who is tenacious in her protection of us; our literary agent, Jennifer Lyons; and writer Lisa Frazier Page.

  Thanks to author Margot Lee Shetterly, whose book Hidden Figures helped bring to light the amazing story of the African American women who worked as human computers and whose many detailed interviews of Mom preserved precious memories. We applaud the administrators and staff at NASA for the many beautiful ways you have acknowledged our mother in recent years, particularly astronauts Dr. Yvonne Cagle and Leland Melvin, who both befriended Mom and accompanied her to many events, as well as our dear friends, Dr. Christine Darden and Michael Chapman (former president of the National Technical Association). Many others also shared their memories to add flesh to some of the stories that Mom recalled for the book, including our children Laurie Hylick Braxton, Troy Hylick, and Michael Moore; Aunt Patricia Goble Evans; our former West Virginia neighbors Annette Core Henderson and Janette Core Henderson; Mom’s dedicated sorority sisters Maggie Macklin and Dianne Blakeney; and her former coworker Daniel Giesy. To every family member and friend, you know how much you meant to Mom. To our niece and nephews (Connie’s children)—Michele Boykin Sanders, Greg Boykin, and Doug Boykin—you were part of Mom’s heartbeat.

  We cannot say enough about Joseph Saunders, chief of police at West Virginia State University, who went beyond the call of duty to provide security for Mom and our family and watched over her with the protective eyes of a son for most of our travels and appearances; nothing we asked of him was too much. Likewise, Dr. Fanchon Glover blessed us with her superior planning skills while orchestrating Mom’s perfect 100th birthday celebration in West Virginia. “Chon” became part of our special “K-Team,” which also included Chadra Pittman, and Shauna Epps, who planned the final celebrations of Mom’s life. And the eulogy delivered by Dr. Brian Blount, president of Union Presbyterian Seminary and Mom’s longtime former pastor, was not only heartfelt and personal, it was a literary masterpiece.

  The pastors and members of Carver Presbyterian Church for the nearly sixty-eight years she worshipped and served there (from 1952 to 2020) were Mom’s second family. The extraordinary efforts of the staff at the Hidenwood Retirement Community helped Mom and Jim live their final years in peace with a good mix of fun, and we always knew they were in great hands with aides Lucy Livingston, Jean Keita, and Derek Robinson.

  Finally, we are grateful for the work of organizations, such as the National Visionary Leadership Project and The HistoryMakers, whose extensive digital interviews of Mom and others who left their imprint on the world are absolutely priceless. Those treasured interviews helped make it possible for us to finish this book.

  —Joylette Hylick and Katherine Moore

  Notes

  introduction: AN UNIMAGINABLE CENTURY

  sliced bread, which didn’t become one of the century’s great inventions until 1928: Jennifer Latson, “How Sliced Bread Became the ‘Greatest Thing’,” last modified July 7, 2015, https://time.com/3946461/sliced-bread-history/.

  a pandemic that would claim an estimated 50 million lives over the next two years: “1918 Pandemic (H1N1 Virus),” Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), last reviewed March 20, 2019, https://www.cdc.gov/flu/pandemic-resources/1918-pandemic-h1n1.html.

  a total of 675,000 people died in the United States: “1918 Pandemic,” CDC.

  Ford Motor Company also was selling its popular Model T for about $350: “Ford Model T (1908–1927)”, myAutoWorld, https://myautoworld.com/ford/history/ford-t/ford-t.html.

  chapter 1: NOBODY ELSE IS BETTER THAN YOU

  Ingleside Seminary in Burkeville, Virginia, which was built in 1892 to educate colored girls: Bernard Fisher, “Ingleside Training Institute,” The Historical Marker Database, last revised June 16, 2016, https://www.hmdb.org/m.asp?m=31042.

  Covering thousands of acres—eleven thousand at present: “About the Greenbrier,” Greenbrier, May 5, 2020, https://www.greenbrier.com/about-us.aspx.

  For most of its existence, the resort was owned by the Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) Railway Co.: “About the Greenbrier,” Greenbrier.

  The property also includes ninety-six guest and estate homes: Greenbrier, “About the Greenbrier,” Greenbrier.

  President Woodrow Wilson created the US Food Administration to manage the conservation, distribution, and transportation of food during wartime: “Years of Compassion 1914–1923,” Herbert Hoover Presidential Library and Museum, accessed May 5, 2020, https://hoover.archives.gov/exhibits/years-compassion-1914-1923.

  Hoover appealed to Americans . . . wheatless Wednesdays: “Years of Compassion,” National Archives.

  There were three registrations for the draft: “World War I Draft Registration Cards,” National Archives, Military Records, NARA microfilm, revised December 2010, https://www.archives.gov/files/research/military/ww1/draft-registration/selective-service-cards.pdf.

  The Shawnee tribe originally inhabited the forest near the springs: John Lund, “White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia,” Geo-Heat Center Bulletin, May 1, 1996, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/251211950_White_sulphur_springs_West_Virginia.

  chapter 2: EDUCATION MATTERS

  The devastating 1857 ruling, known as the “Dred Scott decision”: “Dred Scott Case: The Supreme Court Decision,” PBS, Africans in America, https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4h2933t.html.

  As early as 1837, a benevolent white philanthropist established the Institute for Colored Youth: “History of Cheyney University,” Cheyney University, https://cheyney.edu/for-parents/history-traditions/.

  Those federal laws are perhaps better known as the Morrill Acts, named in honor of Justin Morrill . . . both legislations: Keith Randall, “The Morrill Act Still Has a Huge Impact on the U.S. the World,” Texas A&M Today, July 2, 2020, https://today.tamu.edu/2020/07/02/the-morrill-act-still-has-a-huge-impact-on-the-u-s-and-the-world/.

  The location of the school in the community of Institute, just outside Charleston, was heavily influenced by Educator Booker T. Washington: “West Virginia State University,” Wiki2, https://wiki2.org/en/West_Virginia_State_University.

  When he arrived at the Institute, less than half of the twenty-four faculty members had college degrees: Ancella R. Bickley “John Warren Davis,” e-WV: The West Virginia Encyclopedia, October 15, 2012, https://www.wvencyclopedia.org/articles/1717.

  It dates back to a rich, white slaveowner and the enslaved woman with whom he shared his life: James A. Haught, “Institute: It Springs from Epic Love Story,” West Virginia Department of Culture, Arts, and History, http://www.wvculture.org/history/journal_wvh/wvh32-2a.html.

  Miss Turner earned her master’s degree in chemistry from Cornell University in 1931: Sibrina Collins, “Angie Lena Turner King (1905–2004),” March 13, 2012, https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/king-angie-lena-turner-1905-2004/.

  In some parts of the state, the unemployment rate was as high as 80 percent: “The Great Depression,” The West Virginia Encyclopedia, e-WV, https://www.wvenclyclopedia.org/articles/2155.

  The teenager had been falsely accused a month earlier of raping a white girl in Maury County: “Oral History Interview with John Hope Franklin, July 27, 1990,” Interview A-0339, Southern Oral History Program Collection (#4007) in the Southern Oral History Program Collection, Southern Historical Coll
ection, Wilson Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, https://docsouth.unc.edu/sohp/A-0339/excerpts/excerpt_786.html#fulltext.

  A young W. W. Schieffelin Claytor entered Howard as an undergraduate in September 1925: Karen Hunger Parshall, “Mathematics and the Politics of Race: The Case of William Claytor (Ph.D., University of Pennsylvania, 1933),” The American Mathematical Monthly 123, no. 3 (2016): 214–40, accessed April 5, 2020, https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.4169/amer.math.monthly.123.3.214.

  chapter 3: A TIME FOR EVERYTHING

  Named in honor of Francis Marion, an American Revolutionary War hero, the town is the county seat of Smyth County: “Marion Historic District,” National Park Service, https://www.nps.gov/nr/travel/vamainstreet/mar.htm.

  About five thousand people called Marion home in 1937: “Marion, Virginia,” Historical Population, Wikipedia, accessed April 5, 2020, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marion,_Virginia.

  The park was 1,881 acres of donated land: Virginia State Parks, stateparks.com, https://www.stateparks.com/hungry_mother_state_park_in_virginia.html.

  Another of Marion’s local treasures was the three-story, red-brick Lincoln Theatre: “History of The Lincoln,” The Lincoln Theatre, https://www.thelincoln.org/about-us.

  It had been named in honor of the Reverend Amos Carnegie, who had come to Marion by 1927 as pastor of Mount Pleasant Methodist Church: Linda Burchette, “Carnegie Reunion in Marion Brings Students, Teachers Back Together,” swvatoday.com, July 19, 2017, https://swvatoday.com/entertainment_life/article_32966602-6c06-11e7-8509-d7f9d4ed5e02.html.

  He raised money in the Negro community and secured a grant from the Julius Rosenwald Fund: “Three State Historical Highway Markers to Be Dedicated in Town of Marion,” DHR, Virginia Department of Human Resources, Friday, Nov. 15,” Updated December 2, 2019, https://www.dhr.virginia.gov/press_releases/three-state-historical-highway-markers-to-be-dedicated-in-town-of-marion/.