ammon bodie

As I write this, the reality still hasn’t fully set in. It was less than a month ago that Marc came to San Jose to hang out. He was sober, healthy, and full of life. We had a blast reminiscing about the old days. He seemed genuinely excited about the future. He even extended his ticket by a couple of days so he could explore some of the old haunts around San Jose. When it came time to drop him off at the airport, he handed me an envelope. I waited until I got home to open it. Inside was a three-page list of his hopes and dreams for the future. Never in a million years did I imagine that less than a month later, he would be gone. I met Marc when he was 17. I watched him achieve all his skateboard dreams, and I sat next to him at the Away Days premiere—only to later watch his career fall apart. I still don’t understand why my friend is gone at 49 years old. I don’t know why he chose to come visit me. Was there some bigger purpose to it, or was he looking for closure? Marc was a genius and a tortured soul. He told me he wanted to be remembered for his skateboarding, not for his failures or shortcomings. He was just a poor kid from Winston-Salem, North Carolina, who grew up in a trailer at the end of a dirt road. Yet he made it out, traveled the world, and touched so many lives. He will live on through the video parts that nobody can recreate. He gave opportunities to people who might never have had a chance otherwise. Without a shadow of a doubt, Marc Johnson was the single most influential person in my life. Everything he did was art. He was endlessly creative and always tried to elevate his friends and everyone around him. He opened doors for guys like me and Jerry, and single-handedly put San Jose back on the map. Marc had the golden touch—whether it was on a skateboard, creating brands, or developing ad campaigns. Marc Johnson passed away today. He was one of the most talented and creative people to ever step on or off a skateboard. - Louie Barletta