A lifetime of scientific achievement

Lawrence Johnson took pride in his contributions to international nuclear community

By: Tyler Searle

Lawrence Haraldur Johnson didn’t know everything, but he came close.

Intelligent, insatiably curious and relentless in his pursuit of knowledge, the 75-year-old scientist made his career in nuclear waste management before dying of cancer on Sept. 17, 2025.

Long before he built a reputation as one of the world’s pre-eminent nuclear waste experts — authouring more than 120 publications on the subject and consulting for a raft of international organizations — Lawrence played in a rock ‘n’ roll band.

“I was from the city and he was just a small town kid, but geeze, the band was pretty good. Lawrence could sing and the guys could play,” said Brenda Lawrence, his wife of 53 years.

The pair met as teenagers in Alberta. Brenda lived in Medicine Hat, while Lawrence was raised in the nearby hamlet of Ralston, a military community where his father worked as a meteorologist for the defence department and his mother was a self-taught paleontologist.

Brenda said they formed a friendship after a chance encounter at a high school house party. Lawrence was somewhat of a “hippie” in those years, sporting long hair and belting out Eric Clapton covers with his band The Loading Zone.

“Somehow, Lawrence and I ended up in the kitchen, dancing around each other in a very cautious way,” Brenda said.

“I remember saying to him something about him being a fake hippie, and he said, ‘Yeah, and you’re in fake student council,’ and then we were off to the races. We talked all night.”

From the beginning, Brenda said she was taken by his intellect and quick wit. He was unemotional but not unfeeling, and had a sharp sense of humour that defied his direct manner of speaking.

They remained friends throughout school and started dating shortly after Brenda graduated in 1970. One year later, the couple hitchhiked across Canada to Quebec City.

It was the beginning of a lifelong romance.

“I just followed him around from then on, really,” Brenda said. “I was just fascinated in all of the subjects he was interested in, and I liked being with someone who knew a lot and would answer all of my questions.”

Lawrence went on to study chemistry at the University of Lethbridge, where he graduated with a gold medal in the subject around 1977. The following year, the couple moved to Montreal and Lawrence began a graduate degree in fluid mechanics at the University of McGill.

When his mentor at McGill died of a heart attack, Lawrence left his studies in favour of a job at Atomic Energy of Canada Ltd., which was operating the former nuclear research site in Pinawa. He remained there for 20 years, working first as a scientist and later as a department manager for nuclear waste research.

He and Brenda found themselves among good company in the rural community, which was full of scientists, engineers and professionals who worked at the nuclear facility. She gave birth to their first son, Galen, in 1981, followed by Evan two years later.

Lawrence took pride in his work and his scientific contributions to the international nuclear community, but his children were the crowning achievement of his life, Brenda said.

The boys enjoyed childhood in the idyllic company town, which is typified by its cottage-style living. They spent the summers swimming, playing tennis and exploring the outdoors. Lawrence, who was an avid bird-watcher, instilled in his children a deep and uncompromising respect for nature, Galen said.

“I could never beat him in tennis. Like five days before he died he could still probably have beaten me,” Galen joked. “He liked all the science of it, the angle, the spin on the ball and that sort of stuff.”

Evan remembered his father as level-headed, sincere and scrupulously detailed. He was strong in his convictions, and had an endearing way of presenting his opinions as facts.

“To say that cucumbers are disgusting is not a scientific fact, and yet it was when he said it. This is a thing I loved about him. I think it probably annoyed some people but I thought it was very funny and inspiring,” ” Evan said.

“He could not stop wanting to know more. When you grow up, your parents always seem to know everything, but I never got to the point where he stopped seeming to know everything.”

The family remained in Pinawa until 1999, when Lawrence was offered a job with Switzerland’s National Co-operative for the Disposal of Radioactive Waste.

Galen, who had just graduated from high school and was enrolled at the University of Manitoba, stayed in Canada, while the rest of the family crossed the globe to settle down near Zurich.

Evan attended an international high school and returned to Canada after graduating, but Lawrence and Brenda — who initially planned to stay for three years — remained in Switzerland for 16 years.

After he retired and the couple returned to Canada, Lawrence spent hours each day singing and playing guitar. He had a deep love of music and certain classical compositions could move him to tears, his wife said.

He also compulsively checked weather forecasts, and read history and scientific publications.

“If the weather turned out different than the forecast, he almost blamed the weather — as if the weather betrayed the forecast,” Galen said, laughing again.

In 2023, when Lawrence was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma, he used his skill as a scientist to research medical journals and learn everything he could about the rare and aggressive form of cancer.

“He was always checking the data, always looking at the latest research and getting an idea of what the prognosis was… pinning down the doctors on how long he had,” Brenda said. “The average survival rate after diagnosis was two years, and he died almost exactly two years after the diagnosis.”

Lawrence knew the odds and he faced the disease with dignity by choosing to access support from the medical assistance in dying program.

“He had a conviction that we should have as much control over death as we could muster,” Brenda said. “A few months before he died, I heard him say to a friend, ‘I’ve come to terms with my own mortality.’ I thought, boy, I hope I can come to terms with my mortality when the time comes.”

Lawrence began his final day as he did most others: by checking the weather forecast for the next two weeks.

He chatted with friends and family, read the London Review of Books and when it was time to say goodbye, he was calm and composed.

When the nurse administered the medication that would end his life and it was time for him to speak his final words, Lawrence told a joke.

“He said, ‘This is just a rehearsal, right?’” Evan laughed. “He died well. Everybody dies, but he did a good job of it. We were quite inspired by it.”

tyler.searle@freepress.mb.ca