A life well lived came to a peaceful close as Dennis Leland Johnson, 93, entered eternal rest on July 19, 2026. His legacy of hard work, lighthearted fun, and devotion to family will continue through the many lives he influenced. Dennis was born on July 22, 1932, to Harry and Leah Johnson. He often joked that he received his formal education through the "School of Hard Knocks," a phrase that reflected both his sense of humor and the practical wisdom he gained through a lifetime of hard work. After the 8th grade, at the age of 15, Dennis began farming. In 1954, Dennis joined the United States Army and was stationed in California. After serving for two years, he returned to Arnegard to settle on the family farm, where he would spend the rest of his life.

On June 15, 1958, he married Carol. Together they built a life centered on family, hard work, and making the most of what they had while raising their two children, Allen and Barbara. Dennis and his family built their home from the ground up, just as they built the life they shared. He was a carpenter, woodworker, farmer, mechanic, and the kind of man who rarely met a project he wouldn't tackle. His craftsmanship can still be seen throughout Watford City, where his work stands as a reminder of the pride he took in doing things right. His woodshop was his happy place. If he wasn't working on a project, in the field, or helping someone out, there was a good chance he was stretched out on the couch, sneaking in an afternoon nap before getting back to it.

During the summer, you could usually find Dennis pulling crank on Lake Sakakawea whenever he wasn't tending the crops. Walleye was his favorite, and grandkids recall that he found Northern Pike “too boney” to filet. He loved building everything from campers to cars and fixing just about anything. Dennis loved his adventures with Carol and the many friends they kept along the way. Dennis was known for his lead foot, his love of the café, being slow to anger, and his inability not to sneak in just one last conversation—even if Carol was waiting on him in the car. One thing about Dennis was that he couldn't sit still for very long, and one thing is for sure—he kept Carol on her toes.

Of all the things Dennis built in his lifetime, his family was what made him the proudest. Barb and Allen kept them busy and filled their lives with so much joy. But, becoming a Grandpa—and later Great-Grandpa—was the greatest joy of his life. He never missed an opportunity to make memories with his grandchildren- those who are the luckiest to call him theirs. Whether it was giving bucket rides on the farm hand, fishing for dinner, watching the “Twinkies Twink”, giving driving lessons on the old Model A, potato picking, ball games or school events, a yearly trip to Medora for the musical, week-long "sleepovers", exploring the barn, building tree houses, “testing out” go-karts, welding jewelry, putting puzzles together, filling empty gas takings, or convincing a grandchild to aid and abet in one of his schemes- he cherished every minute of his time with his “kids.”

The little things are what his family will remember most: a piece of candy tucked away in his shirt pocket (usually a smartie), a wink for the ladies or a cringe-worthy flirtatious comment, his mischievous grin, infectious belly laugh, a whisker rub when he hadn’t seen us for a while, his stark white legs and arms that were brought out once a year at the lake, afternoons of puzzle making, or a prank waiting for the next unsuspecting victim. He had a way of making people laugh, making everyone in his presence feel special, and reminding his family not to take life too seriously. Through it all, he will be remembered most as a steady presence and an unwavering source of support.

Dennis leaves behind more than the cedar chests he built with such pride. He leaves behind a family shaped by his example, a community touched by his work, and memories that will continue to be shared around kitchen tables, on the farm, in fishing boats, and wherever stories of Dennis are told.

Dennis is survived by his children, Allen Johnson and Barbara Samuelson; his grandchildren, Brian Samuelson, Miranda (Marcus) Carter, and Nicole (Mike) Filkowski; his great-grandchildren, Alex, Melina, Ethan, Jordan, Mekhi, Mylei, Oak, Olive, Kaylee (Kanyon), Trapper, Huntley, and Bowyn; and many extended family members and friends.

Dennis was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Carol; his parents, Harry and Leah Johnson; his brothers, Gordon, Irvin, and Dale; and numerous extended family members.

For those who knew and loved him, there's comfort in believing he finally made it home.