Chattanooga Remembers a Local Broadcasting Legend, Fred Johnson
In the heart of Chattanooga, there is a wave of nostalgia as the community remembers the life of Fred Johnson, a beloved figure in local broadcasting who recently passed away at the age of 81. For many years, he was a familiar face on WRCB, Channel 3, contributing to the local news and entertainment scene with his undeniable charm and humor.
A Journey of Discovery
The story of Fred’s impact on Chattanooga doesn’t just start with the news anchors and telethons. It goes back to 2010, when an author set out to capture the essence of local radio and television for a book. Touching base with legendary personalities like Luther Masingill and Marcia Kling, the author faced challenges in finding everyone from the city’s broadcasting past. Sadly, Fred Johnson was one of those elusive figures.
Years passed, and the breeze whispered tales of Fred’s legacy, until that unexpected email arrived. It confirmed what many had feared—Fred had passed away quietly on September 1, 2024. After years of wondering, the community learned that Fred had lived nearby all along, quietly contributing to the rich fabric of Chattanooga life.
Memories from the Set
For those who remember Fred, it’s hard not to chuckle about the stories from his days on set. The author had the pleasure of meeting Fred during a Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon. It was Labor Day weekend of 1980, and as the telethon unfolded, the author found themselves in front of the camera, fumbling through an outdoor segment. Amidst the chaos of live TV, a familiar face in a white jacket appeared—none other than Fred Johnson himself. He laughed and said, “Welcome to the world of TV! It’s not as easy as it looks, is it?”
This moment encapsulated Fred’s spirit: he was a man who could make anyone feel at ease, no matter the situation. His wit and warm personality made him a fan-favorite on Channel 3, where he seamlessly transitioned between roles, from shooting video to field reports. Even during challenging times, when Channel 3 faced constant flux, Fred remained a reliable team player, embodying the essence of a ‘utility man’ on his broadcasting field.
A Life Full of Accomplishments
Beyond his television career, Fred lived a life rich with accomplishment and service. Born and raised in Chattanooga, he graduated from Howard High School in 1961 and later proudly served for fifteen years in the U.S. Marine Corps. His dedication didn’t go unnoticed; he received various commendations including the Navy Commendation Medal and the Vietnamese Cross for Gallantry.
After his time in the military, Fred returned to his hometown and continued to give back by working as a youth counselor. He didn’t stop there; his diverse career led him to the automotive sector and community radio, showcasing his versatility and commitment to making a difference.
A Generous Spirit
Fred was not just known for his professional work but also for his kindness. Colleagues described him as “full of life” and a “dapper gentleman,” known for his positive energy and uplifting presence. Those he touched remember his generosity, humor, and willingness to go the extra mile. Even during his later years, when he faced health challenges, Fred kept his spirit vibrant, often joking and sharing candies with fellow residents in his senior care facility.
A Quiet Goodbye
Fred chose a quiet farewell for himself, opting for no funeral service, and instead will be laid to rest at the Chattanooga National Cemetery. His legacy lives on not just in the archives of local television but in the hearts of those who knew him—friends, colleagues, and fans alike.
The past few weeks have served as a reminder of how important it is to celebrate those who have shaped our communities, even if they have stepped out of the spotlight. Fred Johnson surely deserves more than just a paragraph; he deserves to be remembered—fondly, humorously, and with unwavering respect. Each time someone gazes at the flickering screens that display the local news, they’ll surely see a glimpse of Fred’s legacy shining through.
