CENTERVILLE, Mass. — At 106 years old, Freeman Johnson holds the distinction of being America’s oldest living Pearl Harbor survivor, though he witnessed none of the December 7, 1941 attack that changed history.
During the Japanese assault, Johnson was deep within the USS St. Louis working on boiler repairs, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding above deck. The Massachusetts resident, who celebrated his 106th birthday in March, missed seeing his fellow sailors manning antiaircraft weapons and downing an enemy torpedo aircraft.
“While all the rigamarole was going on topside, I was inside a steam drum. Couldn’t see anything, absolutely nothing,” said Johnson, a Centerville, Massachusetts, resident whose living room is filled with mementos and photos of his Navy service, including photos of the St. Louis and him as a young sailor, along with a collection of Navy challenge coins and ribbons representing the places he visited. He still has his military identification tag — popularly known as dog tag.
By the time Johnson reached the surface, the light cruiser had already maneuvered past enemy midget submarines and escaped to open waters. As a fireman aboard the vessel, Johnson remained largely uninformed about the attack’s details even as they sailed into the Pacific.
“We were way out to sea, way out. You couldn’t see any land at all. All you saw was ocean,” he said. “I was just a sailor, just a swabbie, I was not an officer. They don’t tell you anything if you don’t need to know. And I didn’t need know it. So they tell you nothing.”
During school visits, students frequently questioned Johnson about feeling frightened during the attack. “You’re not scared. You’re too busy to be scared,” he said, his gravelly voice rising. “Besides, you don’t know what you’re scared of. You can’t see anything. What are you afraid of?”
Johnson assumed the title of oldest survivor following the December death of World War II Navy veteran Ira “Ike” Schab, who was 105. Schab’s death leaves just 11 survivors remaining from the surprise assault that claimed more than 2,400 military lives and drew America into the global conflict. Memorial Day on Monday honors the nation’s fallen service members.
Annual commemoration ceremonies occur at the military installation’s waterfront for Pearl Harbor veterans. Approximately 2,000 survivors participated in the 50th anniversary gathering in 1991. Recent decades have seen only dozens attend, with just two making the journey in 2024 from an estimated 87,000 troops stationed on Oahu that fateful day. No survivors traveled to Hawaii last year.
Throughout most of his life, Johnson shunned public attention and rarely discussed surviving the attack. After all, he was among tens of thousands of sailors present during that devastating day. He remembered his late wife Ruth “thought that was something special” so she contacted the Navy and “the girl laughed at her.”
Now as the oldest survivor, he’s gained local fame and reluctantly represents one of World War II’s most pivotal moments. Johnson arrived at his 106th birthday celebration in a limousine, surrounded by television cameras. He receives correspondence from around the globe and people regularly call him a hero during public outings.
Despite being hard of hearing, requiring a walker for mobility, and battling congestive heart failure, Johnson can recount his wartime experiences with remarkable precision. The 19-year-old was jobless and living with family in Waltham when he feared being drafted, prompting him to enlist in the Navy because he believed it would be less demanding physically than Army service.
“As a kid, I walked. If I wanted to go somewhere, I walked or took my bicycle. But I didn’t want to walk from France to Germany,” he said, sitting in a recliner, dressed in an oversized flannel shirt and waving his hands like an orchestra conductor.
“It’s a long way carrying a knapsack with you … Water for a day, food for a day, a 9-pound Springfield rifle all on your back and walking through the mud,” he said. “No thanks. That’s why I joined the Navy.”
Johnson’s recollections focus less on combat aboard the St. Louis and later the USS Iowa, and more on their historical importance. He participated in commissioning the Iowa and remembered the battleship’s preparations in November 1943 before carrying President Franklin D. Roosevelt to the Tehran Conference with British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Soviet dictator Josef Stalin.
The vessel was fitted with two elevators and a bathtub. Most ammunition and oil were removed to reduce weight as it navigated the Potomac River to collect Roosevelt, then reloaded before heading to sea.
“It was a big meeting,” Johnson said, recalling how the crew were photographed with Roosevelt. “I don’t know what they talked about, but I didn’t need to know. We picked him back up, brought him home.”
Johnson also observed the war’s conclusion from the Iowa. He was positioned on the Iowa’s mast observing surrender ceremonies approximately one mile away in Tokyo Bay aboard the USS Missouri on Sept. 2, 1945.
“I could see the boats coming up with the Marines escorting the Japanese onto ship and sitting around a table,” he said. “It was all over. That was the end of the war. A bunch of us got together — the war is over. Let’s go home.”
Currently, his daughter Diane Johnson frequently accompanies him. They share a home and annually travel on Dec. 7, often participating in Pearl Harbor memorial events, including the 65th and 80th anniversary ceremonies in Hawaii. She regularly prompts conversations and insists he has “a responsibility” to tell Pearl Harbor’s story, particularly to young people unfamiliar with the bombing.
“It’s kind of overwhelming when you think of it. Well, the 106 is what gets me,” she said. “When I think about his history, he’s at the beginning, he’s at middle, he is at the end when he witnessed the surrender. It’s something.”
Johnson gained increased recognition several years ago when Diane Johnson heard local television reporting that the state’s last survivor had passed away. She contacted them to set the record straight, raising his visibility. Johnson also began regular appearances in the Cape Cod St. Patrick’s Parade, frequently leading from the front.
“I wish more people were like him today. He just gets on and doesn’t complain about anything,” said Desmond Keogh, the chairman of the parade who has accompanied Johnson. “It’s what this country was all about. They were just a different generation. They did what was best for their country.”
Despite all the Pearl Harbor attention, the straightforward Johnson, recognized for his distinctive laugh and playful grin, doesn’t consider it his life’s defining experience.
That honor belongs to marrying his late wife after the war and raising three daughters. He also spent years working in a machine shop, then a convenience store, and finally delivering meals to elderly residents — retiring from all positions, the final one at age 90.
“Pearl Harbor just happened. I can’t put it any other way,” he said.
