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Earleatha “Cookie” Kelly “had no clue” who Earvin Johnson
was when she sent off her application to Michigan State
University. Her then-boyfriend, who was the jealous sort,
mentioned “Magic” Johnson, but she was undeterred.
Seriously, how would a girl from Detroit meet up with a
college basketball star like that?
But that’s exactly what happened. Like most MSU coeds,
Kelly’s roommate had a crush on Johnson. It was inevitable
that while the roomie chased after a chance to be in the
presence of the b-baller, Kelly would meet him and catch his
eye.
Thus started a dozen-year, on-again, off-again relationship
in which Kelly often didn’t know where she stood. They both
hated to be controlled, which led to arguments, splits, and
reconciliations. He asked her to marry him three times and
then broke the first two engagements; he tried to break the
third but she called his bluff, they were married quick in a
beautiful wedding he insisted on having, and she took his
name.
Less than two months after their nuptials, Magic called his
new bride while on the road. She was pregnant with their
first child; he told her they needed to talk. Her mind
raced, but it couldn’t prepare her for the truth: Magic
Johnson was HIV-positive.
Back in 1991, Johnson says, HIV was a “death sentence,” but
Magic decided that he wouldn’t hide it; as a straight man,
he wanted people to know that AIDS was not a “gay person’s
disease.” The Johnsons feared for their unborn baby,
endured rumors, shunned paparazzi, and lost friends. Still,
Johnson took her vows seriously and relied on her faith in
God to keep her calm then, and in the days to come…
As memoirs go, Believing in Magic is okay. Nor
horrid. Not stellar.
Author Cookie Johnson’s book (with Denene Millner) starts
out with a bang and an announcement that no newlywed dreams
of hearing. It then reverts to a long, looong story
of a relationship that surely took enormous patience to
endure, but it’s a tale that could have used a heavier
editorial pen and fewer recreated conversations.
Fortunately, it gets better: the winning part of this book
is in its latter half. There, Johnson shares a bit about
life with an HIV-positive spouse and his ongoing health
issues, she writes about learning of their son’s sexuality,
and accepting their daughter’s search for her birth family.
I could have used more like that half of the book, and less
of the overly-told early years, but that’s just me. Overall,
I think Believing in Magic is at least worth a try;
you’ve probably read better, you’ve probably read worse.
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