Mark D Johnson

Cavernous is the closest descriptor for the loss felt by the family and friends of the man named Mark D Johnson, but whom many simply knew as The Carebear. He was entirely unassuming, kind, genteel, warm, gracious, generally *good* human.  Carebear was also a fierce competitor, with a zeal for all things cycling, among many other hobbies and pasttimes throughout his life.  Though bikes played a foundational part of Mark’s youth, he took on many other hobbies as well, earning a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, floating through whitewater kayaking, and eventually returning to cycling in his early 40s, amongst a Band Of Dorks much younger than he.  He used to tell the younger ones “I’d like to see you keep up with me when you’re my age!” whenever he was ribbed about being an old man.  Of course, he was right! He trained SO very hard and dove headfirst into bike racing, where he truly blossomed.  It was like cycling, and the people associated with it were his fertilizer, and with it, Mark or The Carebear, really bloomed.  He would be spotted all over the county training and earned admiration and accolades of the heroes of many of his fellow cyclists.  His passion for riding and ability to decide "I love to climb. Let's HTH" was inspiring, and dumbfounding. However, he decided to embrace it because he knew he needed to if he wanted to be competitive - and boy was he. 

He shared his cycling passion with everyone who would listen for as long as they'd listen, wherever they would listen. He loved his friends, and his friends’ families, and they loved him.  He was great with kids, and even better with 4 legged furry kids, often bragging about how he had a 6^th sense for dogs. He was an amazingly kind addition to the world that's painfully in short supply of kindness. His ability to recall everyone's names, their kids' names, their dogs’ names, birthdays, and other random details was incredible, when many struggle with simple recollection most days. He selflessly gave to anyone he cared for, and that was just about everyone. Always willing to help whenever needed, he guided many a rookie cyclist through what it took to race or ride at a competitive level and would wait at the end of a race to see all his friends finish, while whooping it up for them, regardless of their finishing spot.  “Support” was what he did, and he was phenomenal at it.  While we might've called him "The Carebear" because of how sensitive and furry he was, the truth is he was The Carebear because he cared, and everyone loved him for it.

Perhaps the only thing he cared more deeply for than cycling or his friends was his immediate family – his parents Walt and Carol,  sister Karen, her husband Steve,  their daughter Nikki, and of course his dog Rusty, with whom he was inseparable.  He bragged tirelessly about Nikki, especially about her softball accomplishments, and was immeasurably proud of her.  He was utterly heartbroken after the loss of his parents, but was blessed to have his sister with him right up until the end.  Rusty was there with him walking the neighborhood, where Carebear had lived for 20+ years, filled with awesome neighbors, always up for a chat.

Thank you, Mark / Carebear all the great times  shared, for taking the ribbing, giving it back, and laughing regardless. You and your smile are missed more than you’d ever believe. 

In lieu of flowers, we ask that donations be made to the Forsyth County Humane Society. admin.hsfc@forsythpets.org

Ingram Funeral Home and Crematory is in charge of the arrangements.