Hi readers, this is Ricky Riccardi, Director of Research Collections for the Louis Armstrong House Museum. Normally I’m the one digging through the Archives to post the “Virtual Exhibits” that make up the bulk of this site. But last year, the Armstrong House embarked on one of the most fulfilling projects I’ve ever been a part of and I wanted to devote some space this month to showing it some love. I’m referring to the Corona Collection, a series of filmed oral histories with the neighbors who grew up in Louis and Lucille Armstrong’s Corona, Queens neighborhood. Funded by the Institute of Museum and Library Sciences, the project was spearheaded by Chanranya Ramakrishnan, the Museum’s Director of Community Engagement. I’ve asked Charanya to put together a series of posts sharing her memories, along with quotes, photos, and the final videos, for each neighbor spotlighted in the Corona Collection. This is her first post, on Willie Johnson’s memorable visit in January 2025. Thank you, Charanya!
“I would go over to Louis Armstrong house and that was my refuge. And he would just welcome me in. And the thing is, is because he understood, and I would open up and talk to him about certain things, and he just naturally related because of things he’d been through in his life.He just demonstrated and showed forth that he understood some of the challenges and things that you could possibly go through. And he was very keen on education, always taught me that knowledge is power.”
—Willie Johnson, The Corona Collection, 2025
It was a cold snowy morning on January 21, 2025, the day Willie Johnson returned to the neighborhood after more than 35 years, for his Corona Collection oral history interview. So much had transpired from the time I first briefly spoke to Willie Johnson in February 2023, when Miles Davis from ELMCOR connected us on a phone call. In the year that followed we had many long conversations and arrived at a place of trust and a common understanding of what the oral history project would entail. Willie Johnson agreed to come back to Corona to share what I believe is one of the most significant and powerful accounts of the impact Louis Armstrong had as a neighbor and mentor.
He enters the Museum and is greeted by an excited team. In moments he is transported back to the boy on the stoop playing the toy trumpet with the great Louis Armstrong! The camera is rolling and the day unfolds in another time but in the very same place–the Armstrongs’ home and on the very same block.
In this iconic photograph taken by Chris Barham in June 1970, Louis Armstrong is playing his favourite gold-plated Selmer trumpet on the stoop of his home in Corona, Queens. Next to him are two brothers, Johnny Johnson and Willie Johnson, the latter imitating Mr. Amstrong playing the trumpet.
Willie Johnson vividly remembers the day this photograph was taken: “Oh, see, he [Johnny Johnson] got the Graham Crackers in his hand. And him [Louis Armstrong] telling me to come across, I don’t know, you could see it in my eyes. We, we’re just, we’re just happy just to, to be, to be there….Yeah. And see, I’m trying to imitate him, but I, I really don’t know how to hold the trumpet too well at that particular time or what have you. But, uh, yeah, and then since when Johnny realized we taking pictures, he thought he can hide his Graham Crackers!”
In the abovephotograph you clearly see Johnny Johnson hiding his Graham Crakers (Now you can’t unsee that)! Also featured in this photograph is Willie Johnson’s brother Verin Johnson (Second from the right) with other kids from the neighborhood.
It’s been 55 years since those iconic photographs of Louis Armstrong with the kids of the neighborhood were taken and now, Willie Johnson is back on that very same stoop–only this time playing Louis Armstrong’s favorite trumpet. I remember Ricky Riccardi in one of our conversations mentioning, “One of my dreams would be to have Willie Johnson back on the stoop,” and yes, this stellar photograph is one for the dreams!
Willie moved into the block in 1968, and lived at 34-65 107th St, right opposite the Armstrongs’ home. He has distinct memories of growing up on the block and recollects how multicultural the block was.
“And this is the house I grew up in,” Willie reflected while standing outside his boyhood home. “First, I lived upstairs, me and my brothers, we lived upstairs and, uh, I would go through the alleyway right here to the backyard and I would sit on the, uh, stairs in the back. And then we put a little basketball court. So we made up games as we go along. We find some sticks or something and put them together or whatever and, and just come up with things to play.”
Imagine living on the block and hearing the sounds of Louis Armstrong’s trumpet wafting through the streets. Willie remembers this beautiful moment when he first got to meet Louis Armstrong–through the sounds of his trumpet:
“I met Louis Armstrong when I moved here. I went to pre-K and I always kept hearing a sound around six something in the morning. I didn’t know it was a horn. It was like some sound, you know? And I would wake up and I asked my father. I was like, every morning I hear this sound and you know, people in the neighborhood, they were familiar with him practicing his trumpet or whatever, said, oh, that’s just Louis Armstrong. So I said, ‘Who’s that? And what is he doing to make that sound?’ So my character and how I was, I took it upon myself and I went over to his house and I rang his bell. And he had a butler, a chauffeur at that time. We called him Mr. Ernie [Debman]. So Mr. Ernie came to the door and I said, ‘I want to speak to the person that keeps waking me up in the morning!’ He thought that was the cutest and funniest thing and he said, ‘Wait right here.’ And then Louis Armstrong came to the door and we established a relationship from that point on.”
The Armstrongs’ home was “a refuge” to Willie Johnson. He remembers spending a lot of time at the house and specifically recalled many objects that are still found in the Living Room, such as the set of encyclopedia, the swirling chair, the reel-to-reel tape player and stereo console
“Me and my brothers and us, we survived in an abandoned building, so by the time I moved in with my father, right, I already knew what it was like to be homeless, to be hungry, to be cold, or what have you,” Willie continued. “We’ve seen a man get stabbed to death. I’ve seen a person get shot and die in front of us or what have you, you know? And so he [Louis Armstrong] kind of took to me because I guess through his life and certain experience, he understood. So me working with people, you know, I know what it’s like to be hungry and to be cold and to be unloved and that sort of thing or whatever, or to be thankful that people in the humanitarian sort of aspect of things take note and are willing to, to assist or guide or help you. I would go over to Louis Armstrong’s house and that was my refuge. Mm-hmm. And he would just welcome me in.”
Willie also had a strong recollection of Louis Armstrong riding the electric stairlift that was installed in the final months of Armstrong’s life. “I just had that moment because I caught a flash that one time when we was in there and he had to go upstairs and he really didn’t want me to see him using this to go up,” Johnson reflected upon seeing the chair. “I thought it was like a ride or something or whatever. And he was like, ‘No,’ you know? And in my head, I remember that expression. The reason is, he always smiled at me and everything, and that expression on his face at that time, it scared me and it hurt me. And I think that was the time Mr. Ernie spoke to me and said he was going back to the hospital to get him, because he did not want to die in the hospital. He wanted to pass away in his own home.”
This memory is poignantly captured in one of Armstrong’s last interviews, featured in the July 16, 1971 issue of the German magazine Jasmin.
In the interview, Lucille Armstrong shared, “[Louis] called and shouted ‘Get me out of this damned hospital. I can’t look any longer at the nurses in their uniforms. Get me out of here or I’ll quit on my own.’ At that time he could not even walk. Every hour he called. ‘You are still at home. You should get me out of here!’”
In this interview, Lucille also speaks about Louis’s initial reaction to the stairlift: he was mad and wanted it to be removed. Eventually Louis warmed up to the stairlift and loved showing off its functions to visitors.
Upstairs in Louis Armstrong’s Den, Willie Johnson experienced a full circle moment, looking at the photograph featuring him, his brother and Armstrong on the stoop.
Willie Johnson’s interview truly highlights the role of Louis Armstrong as mentor in the community, allowing us to learn more about Armstrnog’s humintarian legacy. This poignant interview is a first-hand account of the living legacy of Armstrong, beyond the archives and the wealth of music. We understand the deep impact that he had on the lives of the people who lived in the neighborhood.
I shaped the methodology and intent of this project to affirm the transformation and healing involved in sharing one’s story and revisiting personal history. Willie Johnson’s reflection echos this intent and reaffirms what it meant to him, to share his story:
“I think capturing these stories is of the utmost importance. And we always tend to focus a lot also on our youth to allow them to see the growth process and what are some of the attributes or things that contribute to that growth process with time as well. Like I said before, my grandmother would say, ‘You don’t understand it now, but one day it will come to you.’ However, it is not just solely for the youth, it is more universal for everyone. Sometimes even myself, as I went through the museum in his house, I started having some recollections of things that I encountered and sometimes we need to be reminded. Our strength needs to be restored. We need to be refreshed. We need to be replenished so that we can still carry on.”
Watch the mini documentary of Willie Johnson’s interview:
