On July 7, 1968, Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson collapsed face-first into his plate of chicken and hominy grits at Wells Restaurant in Harlem. He had been laughing with his childhood friend Junie Byrd, reminiscing about the old days. Moments later, he was clutching his chest in agony. The cause was massive congestive heart failure.
He was 62 years old. The man known as the Godfather of Harlem, who had survived gang wars with Dutch Schultz and a prison term at Alcatraz, died in a restaurant booth surrounded by breakfast and friends, not enemies and bullets. His wife later said it was the way any Harlem sporting man would pray to go. For Mayme Johnson, his wife of 20 years, his death marked the start of a 41-year journey as a widow.
She never remarried, never dated, and remained devoted to his memory until her own death in 2009. This is the story of what happened to Bumpy Johnson’s family after he died, how his legacy was preserved, how his daughters struggled, and how his wealth was distributed. Mayme Hatcher was born in 1914 in North Carolina. She moved to New York City in 1938 during the Great Migration, when thousands of Black families fled the Jim Crow South.
She found work as a waitress at a nightclub owned by singer and actress Ethel Waters. On an April evening in 1948, Ellsworth Bumpy Johnson walked in. He was 42 and already the most powerful gangster in Harlem. She was 33, a waitress with dreams of something more.
Before long, she was known as Bumpy’s girl. She later wrote in her memoir that it was a good title to possess, meaning she could get in anywhere she wanted and was treated like a queen, showered with gifts and jewelry. Six months later, in October 1948, they were married in a civil ceremony. Mayme recalled that they were driving past 116th and St.
Nicholas Avenue in his Cadillac when he suddenly turned to her and suggested they get married. She was stunned but kept her composure. They were married two weeks later. Their marriage lasted 20 years, but Bumpy was incarcerated for 11 of them.
From 1952 to 1963, he served a 15-year sentence for narcotics conspiracy at Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary. Mayme visited him, wrote letters, managed their affairs, and kept the home ready for his return. She could have left but didn’t. She later said she married him for better or worse and meant it.
When Bumpy was released on parole in 1963, they had five more years together. On the night before his death, they watched the Lawrence Welk show together. The next morning, Bumpy told Mayme he was going to Wells Restaurant to meet Junie Byrd for breakfast. He said he’d be back for lunch.
He never came home. Junie Byrd ran to the house around 1 p. m. , out of breath and panicked.
Mayme knew before he said a word. Bumpy had collapsed at the restaurant. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was dead. Mayme collapsed and screamed so loudly that neighbors heard her three blocks away.
Bumpy Johnson’s funeral was held on July 11, 1968, at Unity Funeral Chapel in Harlem. Over 1,000 people attended. Politicians, criminals, businessmen, and ordinary neighborhood residents lined the block. Mayme sat in the front row, dressed in black, veiled, and silent.
After the funeral, she went home to their apartment at 2 West 120th Street. For the first time in 20 years, she was alone. People expected Mayme to remarry. She was only 53, still beautiful and intelligent.
Friends introduced her to potential suitors, but she refused them all. She said she had the love of her life and wasn’t interested in settling for less. For 41 years, she never dated, never remarried, and wore her wedding ring until the day she died. She kept Bumpy’s photograph on her nightstand and talked to it every morning.
She greeted him, told him about her plans, and shared family news as if he were still there. She admitted people thought she was crazy, but she didn’t care because it made her feel close to him. She kept their apartment exactly as it had been when he was alive. Mayme spent her widowhood fiercely protecting Bumpy’s legacy.
She acknowledged his criminal activities but always added context. She said he ran the numbers but also kept the neighborhood safe, made sure families had food, paid rent for those who couldn’t afford it, and sent kids to college. She insisted he was a gentleman who dressed impeccably, spoke eloquently, and read constantly. Her biggest fight came in 2007 with the release of American Gangster.
The film portrayed Frank Lucas as Bumpy’s protégé, showing Lucas at Bumpy’s deathbed receiving his blessing to take over Harlem. Mayme was 93 when she saw the trailer and was furious. She told reporters that Frank was nothing but a flunky Bumpy never trusted and was never invited to their house. She called Frank Lucas a liar and wanted the world to know it.
At 93, Mayme decided to write her own book, Harlem Godfather: The Rap on My Husband, Ellsworth Bumpy Johnson. She worked with author Karen E. Canana Miller, dictating stories and correcting Hollywood’s lies. The book was published in February 2008.
She died 15 months later on May 1, 2009. Her last words, according to family, were, “I’m coming, Bumpy. Wait for me. ”
Mayme Johnson is buried beside Bumpy at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx.
Their headstones are side by side. After 41 years apart, they were together again. Bumpy Johnson had two daughters, Ruthie and Elise. Ruthie was Bumpy and Mayme’s biological daughter, born in the early 1950s.
Elise was Bumpy’s daughter from a previous relationship, and Mayme raised her as her own. Both daughters died in 2006, the same year. Ruthie Johnson lived her entire life in her father’s shadow. She stayed private, never gave interviews, and never spoke publicly about her father.
Her cause of death in 2006 was never made public. She left behind children, but their names and locations have never been disclosed. Elise Johnson’s story is heartbreaking. She was Bumpy’s daughter from a relationship before he married Mayme.
Her biological mother is unknown, though some sources speculate it was Stephanie St. Clair. This has never been confirmed. Mayme raised Elise as her own, but Elise struggled.
When she tried to pursue higher education, her father’s criminal record followed her. Colleges rejected her and opportunities vanished. Elise turned to drugs to cope, first marijuana, then harder substances. By her 20s, she was addicted.
She shoplifted to support her habit and was arrested multiple times. Mayme and Bumpy tried rehab and interventions, but nothing worked. In her late 20s or early 30s, Elise had a daughter, Margaret, but couldn’t care for her. Bumpy and Mayme stepped in and raised Margaret as their own.
Elise struggled for decades, in and out of rehab and jail. She died in 2006, reportedly from a heart attack linked to long-term substance abuse. She was in her late 50s or early 60s. Both daughters died within months of each other.
Mayme was devastated. Margaret Johnson was raised by her grandparents, Bumpy and Mayme. She grew up in Harlem in the 1950s and 1960s during Bumpy’s reign. Bumpy treated her like a princess, taking her for ice cream, reading to her at night, and teaching her chess.
He enrolled her in one of New York’s most prestigious private schools and paid the tuition in cash. Margaret was quick with numbers, so Bumpy gave her a job calculating his gambling income from the numbers racket. According to family sources, Margaret didn’t know she was helping run an illegal operation. She was just a kid doing math for her grandfather, and he paid her for it.
Bumpy taught Margaret street smarts, how to read people, and how to carry herself with dignity. He told her to always look people in the eye and never apologize for who she was. He also taught her about loyalty, saying her word was her bond. He walked her through Harlem, introducing her to people and teaching her who to trust.
Margaret also saw Bumpy’s generous side. She saw him pay rent for families who couldn’t afford it, organize Thanksgiving turkey giveaways, break up fights, and settle disputes. She later said her grandfather did things she didn’t agree with, but he took care of his people and made sure nobody messed with their neighborhood. Margaret was in her mid-teens when Bumpy died.
She heard her grandmother scream and ran downstairs. Junie Byrd was there, telling them Bumpy was gone. Margaret didn’t cry at first. She was frozen.
She cried later at the funeral when she saw the casket. Margaret earned her own nickname, the Annie Oakley of Harlem. In the 1970s, while in a wheelchair due to a dislocated hip and slipped disc, she was approached by a man who demanded her purse. Instead of money, she pulled out a gun and shot him.
She didn’t kill him but held him until police arrived. The story spread through Harlem, and people called her Annie Oakley from that day forward. Margaret became one of the primary keepers of Bumpy’s legacy. When Mayme wrote her memoir, Margaret provided stories and details only family would know.
She consulted on TV productions and corrected misconceptions. She acknowledged Bumpy’s crimes but always provided context, noting that he lived in a time when Black people had very few legal opportunities. Margaret lived most of her life in Harlem. She had one son, Anthony Johnson.
She raised him with the same values Bumpy had instilled in her. Margaret told Anthony stories about his great-grandfather, about Bumpy’s intelligence, generosity, and complexity. Anthony eventually moved to London, England, carrying Bumpy’s legacy with him. Margaret Johnson died in 2016 at approximately 66 years old.
The exact cause of death was never made public. She was buried in New York, not at Woodlawn Cemetery with Bumpy and Mayme, whose plots were full, but nearby so the family could visit all three graves in one trip. When Bumpy Johnson died in 1968, his net worth was estimated between $8 million and $100 million. The most commonly cited figure is $50 million, equivalent to $400 to $440 million today.
But his wealth came from illegal activities, so there were no tax returns or official records. According to multiple sources, Bumpy invested heavily in legitimate businesses, including real estate in Harlem, New York City, and Los Angeles. He owned residential apartments, commercial buildings, and hotels. He had connections to Wall Street players who helped him secure profitable deals.
He invested in stocks and even launched his own record label. Bumpy Johnson’s will was never made public, but based on family statements and news reports, Mayme inherited the majority of his estate. This included their home, real estate properties, legitimate business interests, cash, and investments. Mayme used this money to live comfortably and moved to Philadelphia in her later years.
Mayme donated significant portions of Bumpy’s wealth to the NAACP and the Harlem Boys Club. She believed Bumpy would have wanted his money to help the community. She also supported her daughters Ruthie and Elise financially until their deaths in 2006, as well as her granddaughter Margaret and great-grandson Anthony. Bumpy died while under federal indictment for drug conspiracy, so his estate likely paid significant legal fees.
He also had debts to associates and business partners that had to be paid. Some of his wealth may have been hidden in cash, offshore accounts, or assets under aliases. If those assets existed, they were never found or claimed. Today, the last direct descendant of Bumpy Johnson is Anthony Johnson, Margaret’s son, who lives in London, England.
Very little is known about him. He has kept an even lower profile than his grandmother. In 2009, when Mayme Johnson died, Anthony was listed as one of her survivors. As far as public records show, Anthony has no children.
When he dies, the direct line from Bumpy Johnson will end. Within 48 years of Bumpy’s death, everyone closest to him was gone. Only Anthony remains. What survived is the legend.
Bumpy Johnson is more famous now than when he died. TV shows, movies, books, and documentaries keep his story alive. Mayme’s memoir ensures that his real story, not Hollywood’s version, is preserved. His donations to the NAACP and Harlem Boys Club still help people today.
And most importantly, the love endured. Mayme never stopped loving Bumpy. For 41 years, she remained his wife, wore his ring, spoke his name, and defended his memory. Her last words were, “I’m coming, Bumpy.
Wait for me. ” That was the real legacy, not the money, not the power, not the crime, but the love.