The decision Bill Johnston made, to stay in San Diego, to ensure his wife received the most tender, reliable care under the punishing stubbornness of Huntington’s Disease, to walk away from the only adult employer he’s had in his 59 years, seemed simple.

It wasn’t.

Some might have found a new care facility in Orange County to support Ramona, the love of his life. Some might have juggled and reconfigured things to remain the high-profile PR director of the NFL’s Chargers as they darted to Los Angeles.

The fact he didn’t is one of the reasons the Padres wanted to hire Johnston to become the special advisor to Executive Chairman Ron Fowler.


“I’ve known Bill, I guess, for 25 years at least,” Fowler said Thursday, confirming the move. “I’m not surprise at all (that he decided to stay in San Diego). His priorities are where they need to be. The Bill I know, this is exactly what I expected from him.

“I’ve always liked him as a human being. He’s a quality individual.”

Johnston, who worked for the Chargers for 38 years, peeling back the pages to 28-year-old Dan Fouts at quarterback, became a slightly sheepish symbol of loyalty in a Chargers mess where that quality seemed in short supply.

He was singularly devoted to a team, for nearly four decades. When it mattered most, though, he chose family over football.


Good things, as they say, happen to good people.

“It’s perfect,” said Johnston, who will assist Fowler as the rudder of the organization watches his to-do list mushroom because of a growing labor-relations role inside Major League Baseball.

“I’m excited. I’ve worked in football for 38 years, but I’m really a baseball guy. I played high school and college until shoulder surgery said I couldn’t any more. Now I get to go back to the game I loved.”

Johnston played middle infield at Helix High School and San Diego State, routinely sneaking into the left-field cheap seats at old San Diego Stadium to track the progress of the Padres.


Football paid the bills, but baseball tugged at dusty heart strings.

“I could run and hit a little, but that was about it,” said Johnston, with a reflective chuckle. “I had surgery after my sophomore year at State. I didn’t think I was ever going to be in the Hall of Fame, so I focused on a job.

“An internship opened up with the Chargers and I never left.”

It’s a smart move by Fowler and the Padres. There are opportunities to sink roots even deeper into the community, capitalizing on the Chargers void as a youth-based baseball rebuild fights for traction off the field and on.


Johnston knows San Diego. He knows how to navigate the area’s sports landscape. He offers a well-worn bridge to connect people and events and ideas in America’s eighth largest city.

Fowler said the Padres still plan to hire a replacement for former President Mike Dee. He anticipates that could happen in the “next year or so” and said it’s highly possible current Chief Operating Officer Erik Greupner will earn the nod.

Johnston, though, provides more than just the heartwarming story of a local guy, one of those granite-steady professionals, reminding us about what’s truly important. He’s also a savvy, stabilizing addition to the Padres, who now own San Diego’s undivided attention.

He brings a track record, with credibility and a list of contacts to match.


“What you see is what you get with Bill,” Fowler said. “There are no games. He’s legitimately comfortable in his own skin. Being his own person, he’s about as good as you get in that regard.”

As a conversation with Johnston continued Thursday, the genuineness and lack of pretense shined through.

“I haven’t been unemployed since my freshman year in college, so it was a little different,” he said. “But it allowed me to spend more time with my wife.”

Johnston has run 16 marathons to help raise more than $860,000 for Huntington’s Disease research as his all-in commitment to Ramona, the pretty cheerleader who caught his eye all those years ago.


What organization wouldn’t jump at the chance to land a guy like that?

“A lot of folks said some very nice things through all of this,” Johnston said. “But as I’ve always told people, you don’t really know what you’d do in a situation like this. Until you’re in a situation like this, you don’t know how you would react.

“But most people, I can’t understand someone not making the decision I made. It would have been unfair to my wife and made me miserable if she wasn’t well cared for. It was important, too, for my kids to be able to stay close to her.

“There was no decision to be made, really.”


It’s not that simple.

For the Padres, though, it was a no-brainer.


Sports Videos

https://bryce.miller@sduniontribune.com