John T. Johnson was my father. I adored him. He died in 2003. He received his bachelor's and master's in history at SMU. He was the smartest person I have ever met. He knew everything about politics, government, current events, and of course, the history behind them. I thought that if he was this smart and well-informed, and went to SMU, there was perhaps a glint of hope for me. My years at SMU were probably four of the most precious of my life. I was young, eager, excited - like a sponge ready to soak in all the university had to offer. I got two bachelor's degrees, joined a sorority and made life-long friends. In fact, my freshman roommate, previously my partner in crime, was my maid of honor at my recent wedding. I don't think I'll ever be as smart as my dad, but the knowledge, skills and lessons I learned at SMU continue to fan the flames of my intellectual curiosity, something that would make my dad proud. When I see this brick, I'll always think of him - my hero.