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GREENSBORO — Jackie Kpeglo still worries about her older sister.

She calls almost every day, just to check in. And always, she gets the same reply from the woman whose face the whole city knows.

“Jackie, I’m OK, really, I’m OK,’’ Yvonne Johnson tells her. “I told you from the beginning, if I’m not elected, it’s all right. It’s God’s plan.’’

A month ago, Johnson became the first incumbent mayor to lose to a challenger since Greensboro voters started electing mayors at large in 1973 . She got beat by political newcomer Bill Knight. She lost by 935 votes .

Johnson came in with promise. Two years ago, after serving 14 years on the Greensboro City Council, she became the first African American mayor in the history of her hometown.

She claimed she wanted to be a “change agent’’ and help bring together a city fractured by distrust and racial tensions that have simmered for decades.

Fat chance.

Johnson became mired in the countless controversies that always have paralyzed our city. Ask around. Here’s a smattering of what you’ll hear:

Johnson was too accommodating and ineffective. She couldn’t take charge, run meetings well or use her position to push forward new ideas.

Whatever happened, the City Council under Johnson’s tenure became a Channel 13 soap opera in which strong-willed people with personal agendas turned governing into a boxing match.

It was an ugly thing to watch.

So, voters wanted change. They wanted new leadership. And according to some, they wanted someone white, not black . So, in came Knight. Out went Johnson. The racial tensions simmer still.

The job took its toll on Johnson. Relatives and political colleagues say you could see it in her shoulders, in her grimaces, in the lines on her face. She lost weight, went down two dress sizes. She was on the go from 7:30 in the morning to 10 at night .

All for about $15,000 a year.

She’s not bitter, even though she hated the “meanness’’ she saw. Press her on it, and she’ll talk about the world being dysfunctional since the time of Adam and Eve.

She’s back full time at One Step Further, a nonprofit that mediates civil cases and prepares sentencing plans for non-violent felons . She started the agency in 1983 with two employees. Now, One Step Further has 17 .

Her days are easier; her calendar, incredibly clear. And she’s less stressed. People see that. Especially her sister.

“She seems more at peace really,’’ says Kpeglo , a retired high school teacher . “It was just really tough. She wanted to accomplish some things for Greensboro, and now, she’s going to find a way to do it.’’

Last Sunday at Providence Baptist Church , Johnson told one of the city’s largest African American congregations about the need to overcome apathy and work together to create what she called a “revival of will.’’

She’s already recruited Providence and two other churches, New Light Baptist and St. James Home of the Fresh Start , to create an after-school program to help at-risk third-graders.

By the fifth grade, statistics show at-risk students have a higher likelihood of dropping out of school or going to prison, and Johnson doesn’t want to lose them.

She developed that passion early on, growing up during the age of segregation. She felt the sting of inequality. She used leftover books and was told she couldn’t go to a dance in Raleigh as a Girl Scout because “white boys will be there.’’

She cried all the way home from Dudley High.

At 19 , as a Bennett College student, she marched into downtown Greensboro to fight for the integration of a cafeteria, two movie theaters and Woolworth’s, the lunch counter that made history.

She went with her sister and told her as they passed First Citizens Bank together: “That is what we want to be. Treated like First Citizens.’’

She has never lost that passion. Even at 67 , as a mother of four and a grandmother to eight .

She won’t say whether she’ll take another run at politics. She welcomes this breather. It’s a chance to see her grandchildren, spend time with her husband and make a feast Christmas Day for 30 people, four generations of her family.

And she’s busy. She’s starting the after-school program and volunteering with the Greensboro Housing Coalition and the Neighborhood Congress. For her, public service is a dream that never dies.

Step into her den, a room wallpapered with family photos, and you’ll see a framed print that reads: “Service Is Everything.’’

It’s an idea that took root long ago on a front porch off Beech Street, in the shadow of N.C. A&T.

As a child, she’d be sitting there with Jackie when someone from somewhere would walk up and ask for food. She and her sister didn’t know them. Neither did their mom.

No matter. Their mom, Ruby Albertine Jeffries , helped them anyway.

“Ask them to have a seat on the front porch and hook the screen,’’ she told her daughters. “I’ll fix them a sandwich.’’

The same goes for Aunt Lil’s house eight blocks away on Ross Avenue. Yvonne and Jackie would be playing when their aunt, a third-grade teacher at Bluford Elementary, would tell them to grab their coats.

They were going to the grocery store because someone needed food. And often, they walked out the door with Aunt Lil’s message ringing in their ears.

“Remember, you never brag about what you do for people,’’ Aunt Lil told them. “You do it because it’s right.’’

Yvonne Johnson remembers that. To this day.

“In the real depth of my heart is this idea to serve,’’ she says. “It’s truly the rent you pay to live on Earth.’’

Contact Jeri Rowe at 373-7374 or jeri.rowe@news-record.com