Legacy of Morristown's 98-Year-Old Aviatrix 'Mama Bird' Still Soars

Community plan takes flight to honor Johnson’s many achievements

Driving to the Moore-Murrell Airport in Morristown, you start to wonder if you’ve taken a wrong turn.

Most airports in 2008 are surrounded by hotels and fast-food restaurants, but this pint-sized building and its tarmac set against rolling hills just off Old US-11 are reminiscent of Mayberry. Surely no more than one or two planes land here a day (or have any reason to), I assume as I approach the building.

But roughly 35 planes drop their gear daily on this local runway “managed” by 98-year-old Evelyn Bryan Johnson, known to most as “Mama Bird.”

The mechanics don’t pay much mind upon my entering, giving a mere nod of the head and point to the back of the building, where Mama Bird sits perched on her chair reading from a TV screen that serves as a giant magnifying glass allowing her to inspect airport documents or the occasional piece of fan mail.

Although Johnson is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records for logging more hours in the cockpit than any woman or any living human being, glaucoma has rendered her unable to fly, much less operate a car. That hasn’t kept her from hiring someone to drive her five days a week from an assisted living home in Jefferson City to the airport for her 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. shift.
 
“The Chandler House [her assisted living home] serves dinner at 5, so that’s why I get out of here at 4,” she says with a grin, revealing a few gold caps.

Johnson flew for 63 years until the glaucoma contributed to a near-fatal car crash in 2006, which forced doctors to amputate the lower half of her left leg. Prior to the wreck, she piloted nearly 58,000 hours; trained roughly 5,000 students and administered around 9,000 flight tests. Mama Bird has been inducted into the Women in Aviation Pioneers Hall of Fame, the Tennessee and Kentucky Aviation Halls of Fame and, last July, used her walker to take the stage at her induction into the National Aviation Hall of Fame in Dayton, Ohio.

“When I found out about the induction, everyone thought I wouldn’t go,” she says, “but I told them, ‘I’m walking across that stage, even if it’s with a walker.’”
Johnson counts 51 honors and awards through the years — she’s “proud of all of them” — and number 52 may come prior to her 99th birthday in November.

Todd Morgan, project director for Morristown’s non-profit Community Development Corporation, was reading the New York Times Magazine and noticed an ad for the Markham Vineyards Mark of Distinction, which, if awarded, comes with a $25,000 grant to execute a project for the betterment of the community.

Morgan had already been negotiating a proposed series with the city honoring local citizens who have positively affected the Morristown community. Johnson, who was also awarded a bronze Carnegie Medal for rescuing a helicopter pilot, was his first choice. He designed an airplane-shaped garden, complete with a statue of Mama Bird, and his entry became one of 10 finalists for the two Markham Vineyards grants that will be awarded in August.

Fifteen percent of the process is determined by on-line voting, which ended July 21 with Mama Bird in sixth place, while the other 85 percent is based on the merit of the project.

“Growing up in Morristown, I’ve always heard stories about Evelyn Johnson, and thought how neat it was that she’s from my hometown,” says Morgan, who, win or lose, plans to move forward with the project when the money is available. “It’s so great to see someone enjoy what they do that much and help others.”

Flying is Johnson’s secret, she says, her fountain of youth.

“It was love at first flight,” she often quips.

Hanging on the wall behind her desk is a framed picture of a bright yellow Piper J-3 Cub. The one-passenger plane was built 34 years after Orville and Wilbur Wright first left the ground, and it’s what first took Johnson nearly 12,000 feet into the air.

To speak with Johnson is to witness a mind like a steel trap. She recites, from memory, her lift-off: private license in June 1945, a commercial license in October 1946 and a flight instructors rating on May 15, 1947.

Her husband enlisted in the military after the bombing at Pearl Harbor, leaving Johnson to run their dry cleaning business. The impetus to fly was merely boredom.

“I read an ad in the Sunday paper for flying lessons, and I thought, ‘Well, that might be good,’” she says without a hint of irony.

She never entertained being a commercial pilot, always fond of teaching others her passion. Johnson’s tender love and care earned her the moniker of Mama Bird from one of her students.

Her first and second husbands died more than 30 years ago, and she never had children. Whatever the Lord plans for her, she says, is what she always intends to do.

“When I had my wreck, I saw three crosses light up in front of me,” she says, her daily devotional Bible within reach. “I said, ‘Lord, if you have anything left for me, I’ll do it. If not, go ahead and let’s get this over with.’”

That was two years ago last month, and Mama Bird has shown up at Moore-Murrell almost every day since her recovery. Her office is currently cluttered as she prepares for the building to be demolished so a new one can be built in its place.

When asked what she thinks about a possible statue being erected in her honor, she seems to appreciate the idea. But, since 1944, all she’s wanted to do is fly — the rest came with longevity.
 
“People say to me, ‘You’ve got more time than Amelia Earhart,’” she says, as if they think it a compliment. “I tell ’em, ‘Honey, she didn’t live as long as I have.’”