Alan Weiner

B.S., M.S.E., C.H.T., D.D.
Speaker, Author, Engineer, Consultant,  Inventor, Clinical Hypnotherapist

Vera

Vera Pethram Woolbert Johnson
1913-2007

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I am speaking this morning to honor Vera and represent her children, and the family I married into, my wife Phoebe, her sister, Anita, and her brother, Lyle. 

I have been privileged to know Vera for the past 28 years. She was already a white-haired genteel little old lady when I first met her. She possessed a fierce independence of spirit that few would know about. She was so self-assured that she had no need to demonstrate her independence. 

Her demeanor was that of a small quiet, almost frail, person. Yet if I was foolish enough to push her, I discovered that she was made of granite! In all things she seemed always willing to listen and she would always ultimately make up her own mind. She did this quietly and without fuss. Her respect of others was so ingrained that one could only respond to her with corresponding respect. 

​We all play many roles in our lives, but few do so with the panache and the quiet elegance that Vera achieved. 

I have known her as an artist, as a quilter, and as an avid genealogist. 

I have experienced her as a loving, caring and interested mother, grandmother, and Great-grandmother. 

​We have dined together in celebration of holidays, birthdays, and every days. She stayed fully aware, sharp and independent; interested and interesting for all of her 93 years. 

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  • Although I could get her to talk, Vera was more interested in listening than in talking,

  • ​Although I could get her to accept a gift, Vera was more interested in creating and giving than in receiving.​

  • ​Although I could get her to teach, Vera was more interested in learning than in teaching.

  • And in that she taught me. Her actions taught me acceptance of myself and others, how to live without judgments, and how that opens the world to my caring.


Recently, Vera told me over breakfast what it was like for a little girl to ride to school in the rural South Dakota winter of 1923. The wagon driver replaced his wagon wheels with runners to glide through the snow covering the rutted dirt road. All the children would huddle together, shivering under blankets for the long horse drawn sleigh ride to school.


Vera’s family was relatively well off and one particularly cold winter day her father, Frank, worried about his little girl being cold, gave her his raccoon fur coat to replace her old cloth coat. The other children huddled away from the rich girl. She never wore the furs again. The warmth of companionship was much more important than mere physical comfort. Vera lived her life creating the warmth of family and community through the warmth of her quiet spirit. 

Vera and I had a unique relationship. We early-on agreed to be able to say “No” to each other. This allowed me to make any request of her and she of me. It is only now that I realize that that relationship is essentially the definition of a friendship. It is with great humility that I honor and say goodbye to my relative, my teacher, my good friend, Vera.


-Alan Weiner, January 7, 2007