Crash Tiberius Wayne Johnson Obituary

Crash Tiberius Wayne Johnson (deceased May 15, 2023, age 53) lived his life with the energy, charisma, and unstoppable good humor of a half-grown Saint Bernard puppy. He held his heart and mind open to God, all people, and all experiences, which is to say, to life itself. One of his greatest gifts and joys was engaging everyone he met in conversation, and encouraging them formulate and tell their own thoughts, pursue their passions and dreams, and enjoy all that life had to offer. The ultimate extrovert, he thrived on human contact and made a wide variety of friends everywhere he went. His gregarious manner led to a running joke that he could talk to a wall - and get the wall to talk back. That always surprised the bystanders. Crash approached life with an absolute sense of delight and adventure, viewing this world, he said many times, as his personal playground.

Crash was born in San Leandro, California. His mother, Ann, divorced and remarried Glen whom Crash considered his father. In 1976 the family moved to Oregon and spent two years on a farm. They then relocated to Vancouver, WA where Crash grew up adjacent to a cemetery. This proximity may have contributed to his quirky sense of humor. At the age of 9, Crash founded his (short-lived) media empire delivering papers for the Columbian. As a teenager he joined the Civil Air Patrol, making lifelong friends.

After graduating from Hudson Bay High School, Crash joined the Army for two years, serving in Germany as a Forward Observer during the Cold War. Upon leaving the Army he used his GI Bill to attend Eastern Washington University earning a Bachelor of Science degree in Computer Information Systems. During his studies he was called back up for Operation Desert Storm - but the war was over by the time he arrived in Germany to man the base while active duty troops were deployed, so he returned home.

Crash moved to Colorado in the summer of 1997 at the age of 27. He used to quote John Denver, "He was born in the summer of his 27th year, coming home to a place he'd never been before."

He took a job with Lockheed Martin, first testing rocket launch ground station software, and then doing database work for an Army C3I (Command, Control, Communications, and Intelligence) system.

After a few years at Lockheed, he moved to Continental Divide Robotics, creating and maintaining databases for parole tracking software. Next he started his own company and tried out working for himself. Willing to do any type of database work, he landed a consulting job working on hotel pay-per-view TV software. Finding that work unfulfilling he took a job with Northrop Grumman ("Making bad days for bad guys," he would say with a grin) where he worked until his death. While at Northrop he returned to his studies, earning a Master's Degree in Systems Engineering at the University of Denver.

He liked to joke that in another life he was a, "93-year-old black woman whose occupation was asteroid mining," and he probably could have pulled off the asteroid mining, and maybe the other parts as well, given enough time. He was always diving into new and creative projects, such as rebuilding a Toyota MR2 with new features, all while attempting (mostly successfully) not to injure himself. If a project did not have afterburners, he wanted to add them. If it did, then he wanted to put afterburners on the afterburners.

During his early years in Colorado, he spent a significant amount of time hiking using the Klingon motto, "Today is a good day to die." Equally he loved hunting and fly fishing. He was an archer, competitive shooter, cyclist, mountain biker, triathlete, martial artist, ukulele player, and pop culture aficionado. He enjoyed watching the Avalanche and attending concerts among his many other interests.

Crash died unexpectedly at his home in his beloved Colorado. He is survived by his mother, Ann, his father Glen, his brother Steve, many nieces and nephews, and the many close friends he considered family. He was and continues to be dearly loved and sorely missed.