MONROE, N.C. — Longtime Monroe residents, especially those who lived there from the 1960s to the 1990s, have likely heard of the “Johnson girls,” the three sisters who made headlines working as roofers in the construction industry.
They came from a family of 16 children — four girls and 12 boys. One girl passed away in childhood. The remaining sisters — Nell Privette, Lois Helms and Louise Grant — remained known around town by their maiden name.
Nell, the last surviving sister and the oldest of the girls, died last October. Lois died in 2002 and Louise in 2017.
The sisters began working for their father, Jess Johnson, when they were 10 or 11 years old. People would come from out of town just to catch a glimpse of them up on a roof, nailing shingles.
“They were tough as nails,” said Hillary Rape, 32, of Lancaster, S.C. She is the granddaughter of Louise, who was the youngest of the Johnson children.
“Kind of a funny pun, since they were roofers,” she said.
Reid Helms, a lifelong Monroe resident, had roofs replaced by the Johnson girls on his house and two family members’ houses over the years.
“They were the only ladies I ever seen get up on a roof,” Helms said. “They were just hard-working people.”
Helms retired from the Monroe Police Department about 30 years ago.
“Over the years with my job, I’d ride by and see them up on the roof working. They would carry those shingles up on the roof and start nailing. They didn’t have air guns back in those days,” he said.
Helms said he was always pleased with the work the women delivered.
“You didn’t have to do nothing but tell them what color roof you wanted,” he said.
Many called the Johnson girls pioneers who made a name for themselves during a time when women working in a physically demanding role in a traditionally male field, and in often dangerous conditions, were rare.
But not everyone around town was so accepting of the women and their work, said Rape, Louise’s granddaughter. She recalls hearing the story of the local preacher who stopped and yelled at the sisters while they were working.
“He was chastising them for wearing shorts,” Rape said. “They were criticized for ... not wearing pants, and working in a man’s role.”
But the women were not afraid to stand up for themselves and give the preacher, and any other naysayers, a piece of their mind, Rape said.
“They were considered rebels, defiant, not your typical Southern homemaker,” Rape reflected. “But in reality, they were just progressive. They were just more progressed than the times they grew up in.”
They were also kind, considerate and generous, Rape said.
“I cannot tell you how many times I saw them give their last dollar to someone,” she said.
“They were just good people. I don’t believe the family ever met a stranger,” he said.
Rape said her family legacy has shaped how she parents her own children, two girls and a boy.
“Anything you want to learn and do, you can,” Rape said she tells her daughters.
The Johnson girls are an inspiration, Rape said.
“Every time I talk about them, I realize more and more how amazing it is to call them my family.”
