What do you do when you lose your best friend? You try to be strong, you try not to cry, but it’s useless. The river of tears soon breaks through.
The angels came and took my best friend, Art Johnson, away last Sunday, Feb. 15.
We first met in 1959 when Sunland Park Racetrack opened. He had been hired as comptroller. For reasons that only The Man Above knows, we struck up a personal relationship that was to last the rest of our lives.
WE STARTED playing golf and tennis together, socializing together and even started going to breakfast every Sunday with members of our families. And we celebrated birthdays and special events like Thanksgiving with dinners.
He bought quantities of every book I ever wrote and distributed them to his family and friends. His favorite was “The Gods of Racing” which was no surprise since that was his sport.
And always, always whenever I got an award he was there in the audience cheering me on.
I never knew what a wonderful word “friend” was until I met Art Johnson.
HE DESERVED much more credit than I gave him. Since I was a sportswriter and a columnist I tried not to abuse the privilege by giving him more coverage than others in the media. And being a charter member of the board of directors of the El Paso Athletic Hall of Fame, I hesitated to nominate him for induction.
Looking back, I overdid it. He became general manager of Sunland Park Racetrack and did such an outstanding job that he’s credited with saving the track from extinction more than once.
I did mention him in a couple of my books, “El Paso’s Greatest Sports Heroes I Have Known” and “The Good, the Bad and the Funny of El Paso Sports History.” Following are a few excerpts from those books:
“ART JOHNSON has been called the savior of Sunland Park and you can say that twice.
“…The track opened in October of 1959 with a bang. The opening day crowd was estimated at 6500 … and it wagered $165,467 … Things got even better … Things looked rosy for the future …
“Then suddenly, a tailspin began. The handle kept dropping steadily, year by year. By 1968, the daily average handle was down to a disastrous $123,514. There was talk of closing the track.
“Johnson was appointed general manager. Some thought he was named to preside over the demise of the track …
“Surprise, surprise…
“Instead of cutting back at Sunland, he launched a major promotional campaign … One of his first acts was to give away a car. A Cadillac, no less.
“But he did more. A naturally friendly man, he mixed with the fans. He befriended the horsemen. Things turned around immediately …”
JOHNSON’S TENURE was so successful he was lured away to run Pocono Downs in Pennsylvania. He was a huge success there, too, from 1974 through 1986.
But when Sunland hit the skids again in 1987, the upper valley track called Johnson back.
Johnson turned things around immediately again. His methods were the same: Promote, hold giveaways for fans, get involved in the community, be fair, befriend people. A simple formula but one that worked wonders.
ART JOHNSON left a wonderful legacy in horse racing. Through the years he also ran Ruidoso Downs, the Downs at Santa Fe and Turf Paradise in Arizona. He also brought simulcast betting to New Mexico.
He had a peaceful death with his three children, Roy, Shauna and Tommy, at his bedside. His wife, Shan, had preceded him in death in 2009.
He did so much for horse racing.
And oh, what a blessing he was to me and my family.