It’s not uncommon to hear Berry alumni refer to themselves as family, but for Matthew F. Johnston (13c) that’s literally the case. As explained in a guest column published last summer in the Rome News-Tribune, Johnston is a member of both our Berry family and THE Berry family. With his permission, we are pleased to share his recollections here, hopeful that you will find them as resonant as we did.
As summer settles over Berry’s campus and President Stephen Briggs passes the torch to Dr. Sandeep Mazumder, I find myself thinking of those familiar mountain paths from afar, tracing the threads that connect past to present, family to institution, legacy to future.
Fifteen years have passed since I was a student at Berry College – since I walked those enchanted trails that led upward to the House o’ Dreams. Time has a way of clarifying what matters most. During Dr. Briggs’ tenure, he hosted a Berry Family Reunion that brought together descendants from across the country, recognizing the legacy of my great-great-grandaunt Martha and welcoming our family with memorable hospitality.
I am Matthew F. Johnston, great-great-grandnephew of Martha Berry, descended through “Bessie” Berry Wright and Captain Thomas Berry III of Oak Hill. Standing in those familial spaces throughout college and during the family reunion, I felt the weight and wonder of heritage – not as burden, but as gift.
Aunt Martha’s legacy speaks across generations because it was built on authentic connection rather than hollow gesture. She understood privilege not as something to apologize for, but as responsibility to bridge worlds with genuine respect. Her work wasn’t performance; it was presence.
Though physical distance now separates me from those Georgia hills, they remain home in ways that transcend geography. The roots run deep there, winding through red clay back to Oak Hill, back to a woman who saw possibility where others saw insurmountable odds.
As Berry begins its next chapter, I appreciate Dr. Briggs’ recognition of the stories that shaped our institution. Some threads, once woven, bind us across any distance.
The best legacies are indeed living ones.
More about the writer:
Johnston lives in Richmond, Virginia, with wife Stephanie. Boasting a decade of experience in grants management for federal, state and tribal governments, he currently works remotely as grants administrator for Turning Stone Resort Casino, the economic arm of Oneida Indian Nation, located outside Syracuse, New York.
