Barbara H. Johnson, 84, of Madison, Wisconsin, died at home on November 24, 2025, of a heart attack. It was sudden, as these things often are, and entirely unfair, as these things always are. Born in Chicago, the daughter to George and Helen Johnson, she grew up in Iron River, Michigan - which means she was a Yooper before being a Yooper was cool.
Barbara believed in public service the way some people believe in yoga or kale smoothies: with conviction, persistence, and the occasional eye-roll at the obstacles. She earned her degree in education from the University of Wisconsin–Madison and began her career shaping young minds as an elementary school teacher. Later, she added a Master’s in Counseling and Guidance from UW–Whitewater to her résumé, which led her into the complicated, messy, and profoundly human work of probation and parole, drug counseling, and eventually serving as an Alcohol & Drug Program Specialist with the Wisconsin Department of Corrections. In every role, she was the person who showed up, listened, and tried to make things better.
She was preceded in death by her daughter, Stephanie Abendroth (Morley), and her sister, Mavis Landsverk. She is survived by her loving re-husband, David G. Rattray, her son TJ Morley (Renee Kubesh) of Port Washington, WI, and a chorus of siblings who could populate their own family sitcom: Michael (Lorraine) Johnson of Negaunee, MI, Dennis (Diana) Johnson of Champion, MI, Richard (Patricia) Johnson of Hibbing, MN, Paul (Debbie) Johnson of Deer River, MN, and Karen (Ron) Beauchamp of Iron River, MI. It’s the kind of lineup that makes you wonder how anyone ever got a word in at the dinner table, but Barb, of course, always managed – because she was oldest (and her mom’s favorite).
Everyone knew Barb as stylish without trying, a measured wit, and endlessly curious. She loved food and all the delights that came with exploring new recipes. Retirement didn’t slow her down; it gave her more time to travel, to listen to music, and to devour books.
Late in life, she rediscovered Dave, the second husband she’d once divorced. They even re-tied the knot last year at a small chapel in the Georgia mountains. She was giddy, ridiculous, practically levitating, like a teenager who’d just been asked to prom—except this time the corsage came with Medicare.
Barb's passing was as she'd have wanted it – instant and brilliant as a firework, showering us with a burst of memories from a life well lived. And she chose her final resting site at the Farley Center. It’s the kind of place she appreciated, with its emphasis on peace, justice and sustainability. She rests, as ever, on her own terms.
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