NICHOLAS COUNTY JUDGE BELIEVES EVERY CHILD SHOULD HAVE A CHANCE

He grew up in a loving home with three brothers and a sister, part of his
roots shaped by Italian immigrant grandparents who saw America as a land of
opportunity for future family generations, a place where their grandson
would have the chance to fulfill his childhood ambitions.

As an adult, he and his wife have provided the same kind of caring
environment for their five children.

Family, children, home. Nothing is more important to Gary Johnson.

But in nearly nine years as Nicholas County Circuit Court judge, he has
seen the other side, homes destroyed by drugs and other problems, innocent
children neglected and abused, forced to provide for their siblings because
their parents don't want them, or don't care.

He saw an opportunity in his role as judge to do something about it. And he
did.

"Certain judges choose to emphasize certain areas of the law," he says.
"When I became judge ... I wanted to emphasize getting (these) children
into permanent homes. I think that's the best medicine for a child who has
been abused and neglected.

"There are so many children out there who have been abandoned and abused.
If we don't correct the problem now, it will cost us more as a society later.

"In many cases, they don't have a chance unless we give them a chance. I
think every child deserves a chance, and it's up to us to give them that
chance."

Johnson recalled a case in which he terminated the parental rights of the
parents of a young girl, who, despite being a pre-teen, was taking care of
the family. Upset and undoubtedly confused, the girl told Johnson she would
never forgive him.

She was adopted by a loving family, and recently she asked Johnson to write
a letter of recommendation for her to a college she hopes to attend.

"She has accomplished a lot in four years," the judge said. "She's a good
student who has worked hard.

"There are a lot of children in that position, 12- and 13-year-olds who are
the primary caretakers in their family because the parents won't do it."

Johnson says it's rewarding when a child is adopted by a caring family and
goes on to do well. And his efforts in that regard have not gone unnoticed.
In 1999, the U.S. Senate honored him as an "Angel of Adoption" for moving
abused and neglected children into adoption quicker than any other judicial
circuit in West Virginia. He has also been honored by the Nicholas County
Family Resource Network for his efforts in protecting children in abusive
relationships.

"In the first six months of this year, we moved 26 kids into the adoption
unit," he said.

His work with youth extends outside the courtroom as well. He's been a
Little League girls' softball coach, and he's a teacher of high school-age
youth at Holy Family Catholic Church in Richwood.

When the Richwood High School band needed someone to transport equipment to
various venues, he was more than willing to answer the call.

"I've always tried to give back to the community," he said. "They've always
been good to me. I help out when I can."

Johnson praised his wife, Susan, for her support. "Nobody could have a more
wonderful partner than I've had the past 26 years," he said.

As a youngster, his ultimate career path was influenced by his father,
Ralph, who not only taught and coached at Richwood High School, but also
served Nicholas County as a commissioner, sheriff and member of the House
of Delegates.

"I wanted to be a lawyer from when I can remember, probably second, third
or fourth grade," the judge recalled. "Dad was a deputy sheriff (in the
early 1960s), and I knew Jim Barber (a lawyer and former Richwood mayor)
was a respected member of the community. And with Dad (serving in elected
offices), I always had an interest in politics."

Though he knew he wanted to be a lawyer, he had no early dreams of becoming
a judge. He thought more on the lines of becoming a prosecutor.

"When I thought of a lawyer, that's what I thought a lawyer did," he said.
"And I always intended on coming back to my hometown to practice."

And that's what he did.

He earned his law degree from West Virginia University in December 1979,
returned to Richwood, and within weeks decided to run in the 1980
Democratic primary for Nicholas County prosecuting attorney.

He lost by 17 votes. Disappointed but still determined, he practiced law in
Richwood for four years. In 1984, he ran for prosecutor again, and won with
60 percent of the vote.

In 1986, Nicholas County Circuit Judge Elmer Strickler announced his
retirement, leaving it up to then-Gov. Arch Moore to appoint a judge to
serve until the next election in 1988. Johnson applied for the appointment,
but Moore chose Jim Wolverton.

"I decided I was going to run (for judge) in 1988," Johnson said. But in
another close race, this time in the general election for the remaining
four years of Strickler's unexpired term, he lost to Wolverton by fewer
than 70 votes.

With his term as prosecutor up, he returned to private practice in
Richwood. But his mind was already set: He would run again for judge in 1992.

Just like in 1984, the second time proved to be the charm. He defeated
Wolverton, capturing about 60 percent of the vote. He was elected to a
second eight-year term in 2000, easily turning back the challenge of Larry
Losch, his opponent in the two prosecutor's races, in the Democratic primary.

As a judge, Johnson has been a voice for the rights of children and victims
of crime. "I always make sure victims are notified as to what's going on
and that they can participate in the sentencing process," he said. "I think
victims' rights are just as important as defendants' rights."

Some may recall Johnson being a voice of a different kind. As a high school
student, he worked as a radio announcer at WVAR in Richwood.

Later, while at WVU, he worked at Morgantown radio stations WAJR and WCLG.

But he never considered a career in broadcasting.

"I worked at the radio station as a means to finance my education," he
said. "I always wanted to be a lawyer, and that's what I worked toward.

"I always enjoyed" radio work, he added. "It was a nice, clean way to work
your way through college. It was better than cleaning out chicken cages in
the biology department, which is what I did for a semester" on work-study.

One day while working at the Richwood radio station, located on a narrow
road near the top of a hill overlooking the city, Johnson received word
that his car was over an embankment just a short distance down the road
from the station. He inspected the scene and called the police.

Apparently someone had stolen his car and wrecked it.

Reaching the police chief, Johnson said his car was over the hillside. The
chief, who thought it was a routine, minor accident call, said he'd be
right up.

A few minutes later, the chief drove his cruiser up to the site and asked
what had happened. Johnson told him someone had stolen his car and wrecked it.

At which point the chief backed the cruiser down to the bottom of the hill,
turned on his lights and siren, and drove back up.

"Why did you do that?" Johnson asked.

"You didn't tell me a crime had been committed," the chief replied.

Oh, the humor you can find in small-town America, where a police siren is
about as rare as a WVU-Marshall football game. It's the kind of hometown
atmosphere Johnson wouldn't trade for anything.

"I enjoy where I live," he said. "I don't think I could have raised my
children in a better place. People who grew up here have been successful,
and the older kids tell me they don't think they could have grown up in a
better place.

"A lot of times I've thought I could make more money in a lot of other
places, but the quality of life here is more important than making a lot of
money, I guess. Since the (Sept. 11 terrorist attacks in New York and
Washington), I've realized how lucky we are to live in a place like West
Virginia, even with all our problems."

Nowadays, Johnson views crime from a perspective that's different from that
day at the Richwood radio station 30-some years ago. And when it comes to
sentencing those found guilty of criminal behavior, he says it can be
difficult and not so difficult, depending on the crime and the age of the
offender.

"When someone has done something and deserves to be punished, I feel like
I'm reflecting the community's reaction to it," he said. "The difficult
thing is dealing with young people who may have strayed. You try to balance
rehabilitation and punishment. But for real heinous crimes, that's not
difficult for me.

"The younger they are, you have to consider rehabilitation and punishment.
But if they get in trouble a second time, or the older they are,
rehabilitation doesn't concern me much."

In cases where he feels probation is appropriate, he usually includes some
minimum jail time so the offender will know what to expect if he or she
violates probation or gets in trouble again.

Being a judge can also be lonely. In fact, when asked about the hardest
part of his position, Johnson quickly replied, "The isolation."

When he became judge, he immediately had a different relationship with
fellow lawyers who had been among his best friends.

"It's a lonely job sometimes," he said. "You're not allowed to express any
political views, and it's hard to keep your mouth shut sometimes when you
have a view.

"Sometimes you just have to walk away when people start talking about
something that might come before you."

And plenty of cases come before a judge, whose work extends far beyond
actual courtroom hours.

"As a judge, you're a facilitator, mediator and referee sometimes," Johnson
said. "And when you have a trial, you have to prepare for that trial just
like the lawyers have to. It takes a lot of time to prepare for a major trial."

Much of his work when he assumed office following the 1992 election was
devoted to reducing a backlog of cases. He was one of the first judges in
the state to refer all civil cases to mediation, a practice other circuits
have followed. He streamlined scheduling. The end result is that the
Nicholas circuit is well within time frames established by the state
Supreme Court for resolving both criminal and civil cases.

Johnson calls that one of his proudest accomplishments. Also during his
tenure, the courtroom has been remodeled and made handicap-accessible, and
everything in the court system has been computerized.

It may take a large computer, not only in Nicholas County but other
circuits as well, to keep track of cases involving the abuse of the
prescription pain-killer OxyContin. Johnson said the biggest percentage of
criminal cases and probably 75 percent of child neglect cases are linked to
OxyContin abuse.

"We've had drug problems before, but we've never had cases where people
give up their kids for drugs," he said. "It's ruined a lot of young lives."

OxyContin abuse has also been linked to a rising number of cases involving
forgery, uttering and break-ins.

Another challenge facing judicial circuits is the integration of the family
court system.

"It's going to be difficult to do," Johnson said. "It's a big challenge,
and it will only work if everybody cooperates."

Johnson says being a judge is enjoyable and rewarding.

"The main thing is you feel you can make a difference in the community,
make it a safer place, and you feel good that the people of the county have
trust in you to do the job.

"I would like to continue to do the job until I retire if the people will
have me."

When the time comes to hang up his robe, the thing that's dear to his heart
now, children, will remain so. His message will stay the same.

"What I try to tell kids, I always tell them to set their goals, and if
they work hard and persevere, they can reach their goals," he said. "I
applied to law school three times before I was accepted. It took me two
tries to be elected prosecutor, two tries to be elected judge. As long as
you work hard and don't forget what your goal is, you can usually
accomplish it.

"I always tell them if I can be a judge, they can be a judge, too."