An Unthinkable Blow: Cookie Johnson Faces Her Husband’s HIV Diagnosis
Back in 1991, barely six weeks into her marriage, Cookie Johnson’s world tilted overnight. She wasn't just dealing with the euphoria of newlywed life with basketball icon Magic Johnson—suddenly, she was thrust into the eye of a storm. Magic sat her down in their Los Angeles home, voice trembling, and shared news that made the world around them evaporate: he had tested positive for HIV. Cookie remembers both dropping to the floor, sobbing, surrounded not by the glitter of sports fame, but by raw fear.
In those days, HIV wasn’t something you could discuss freely, let alone have a full life with. For Cookie, the immediate worry wasn’t just about her husband’s future. She feared she’d lose him altogether—HIV often meant a death sentence. Even beyond that looming shadow, another kind of terror settled: people’s reactions. "I was scared people would treat us like we had the plague," Cookie recalled. Her objection to Magic’s public announcement came from this very place. The notion of airing such private pain before a country awash in misinformation felt unthinkable for her.
Public Scrutiny and Private Strength
Magic’s press conference on November 7, 1991, broke the sports world and revved up the rumor mill. Suddenly, the Johnsons’ living room drama was national news. Cookie noticed how quickly acquaintances pulled away—some former friends disappeared entirely. The couple became a test case for America's uneasy relationship with HIV, and the word HIV stigma took on a personal meaning for them. But for Cookie, staying silent was never an option after the genie was out of the bottle. She chose a new mantra instead: "God's got it." Faith became her armor.
Cookie threw herself into what she called her "spiritual warfare," facing each day’s uncertainty with stubborn hope. She stood by Magic, even as whispers followed them, and even after public figures and the media speculated loudly and sometimes cruelly about how and why Magic had contracted the virus. The painful, public aftermath forced her to dig deep, learning which friends could be trusted and which would turn their backs.
The Johnsons’ very public ordeal helped flip the national narrative, especially around who could get HIV. Magic’s diagnosis shattered the lingering myth that only LGBTQ+ men or intravenous drug users were at high risk. People started seeing that HIV didn’t fit a narrow stereotype. In her memoir, "Believing in Magic," Cookie dives deep into this journey—one marked by both heartbreak and resilience—making it clear that behind the headlines lay a couple determined not to be defined by either the disease or the world’s judgment.
