PORTSMOUTH, Va. — For nearly 45 years, the law has been the life’s work of Chief Judge Johnny Morrison. More than three decades of that time have been spent on the bench, making decisions that helped shape Portsmouth.
Now, as retirement finally starts to sink in, the longtime judge is reflecting not just on his legal career but on a second chance at life, one made possible by a neighbor who’s also one of the most powerful politicians in Virginia.
The black robe signifies many things for a judge. For Morrison, the robe signified a commitment has always meant one thing: “having a positive influence in the community.”
Morrison grew up in public housing in Portsmouth. He says his family was on welfare, and he worked his way through school.
“I always wanted to be a lawyer, because I felt like you can be your own boss if you’re a lawyer,” he said.
That dream carried him from the projects to Washington and Lee University, then to law school, and eventually into public service.
He became a prosecutor, then Portsmouth’s Commonwealth’s Attorney, before being elected to the bench, a move he initially resisted.
“I didn’t want to go on the bench,” Morrison said. “I turned it down once or twice.”
Once the General Assembly and the Senate voted him in, there was no going back. On the bench, he vowed to be “firm but fair” and insisted that everyone who came before him be treated, in his words, “like a king or a queen,” regardless of how they looked, talked, or dressed.
In 2000, Morrison helped launch what was then called the drug treatment court in Portsmouth, now known as Recovery Court.
The program offers people battling addiction a structured path to sobriety and stability instead of simply time behind bars.
“We’re now called Recovery Court,” Morrison said. “And that brought a lot of joy to me. It brought a lot of joy and happiness to a lot of other people.”
But the most powerful chapter of Morrison’s story didn’t unfold in a courtroom. It happened next door.
For about 20 years, Morrison has lived beside Don Scott, who would go on to become speaker of the Virginia House of Delegates.
The two men bonded over yard work. Morrison is known for his flower beds, football games, and long talks about politics and life. Their families became close; their neighborhood, tight-knit.
As the years went on, Morrison began quietly battling kidney failure. He kept coming to court, even when the pain from gout, a side effect of his illness, forced him to walk with a cane.
“I was experiencing kidney failure,” Morrison recalled.
Scott noticed.
“He was looking bad,” Scott said.
One night, during one of their regular visits, Scott asked Morrison his blood type. When he realized they matched, Scott decided to get evaluated as a possible donor.
“They finally said, ‘Hey, look, you’re a doggone match," Scott said. “I couldn’t believe it.”
In September 2021, in the middle of Scott’s re-election campaign, the two neighbors went into surgery. Scott donated one of his kidneys to Morrison.
“It’s one of the best things I ever did,” Scott said.
The transplant allowed Morrison to keep serving the city he loves, and to spend more time with his daughters and granddaughters. Looking back, he said he is at peace.
“If I die today, I’ll be happy, because I witnessed a lot for our people and for our nation and our state and especially our city,” he said.
As Judge Morrison packs up his chambers and prepares to set down the gavel for the last time, he leaves behind a legacy of second chances and a living reminder that justice, at its best, is rooted in grace, sacrifice, and the kindness of a neighbor who became family.
