Jones DEADY

A friend lovingly uses the term "a black hole for adjectives" to describe people that have too many facets to contain. Jones was that. People have called him passionate, creative, stubborn, funny, curious, fiery, an incredible cook, sensitive, handsome, loving; almost any adjective ascribed to him would be accurate in one way or another. The only thing he wasn't, was dull.

Born in 1953 in Memphis and raised outside of Atlanta, Jones (aka Snap) seemed to have lived a dozen lifetimes before any of us met him. His stories of daring and reckless abandon always captured our attention, and we continued to beg for more, which there always seemed to be. He spent his bucolic youth building forts, sleeping in the woods, and once accidentally drowning an alligator with a garden hose because he thought it was thirsty. As a young man he hitchhiked across the country, catching rides from characters equally as colorful as the story itself. He was a rickshaw driver in Hawaii. He spent the night in an Atlanta jail for littering. He backpacked in the summers, catching fish for every meal. Once he and a friend dressed as surgeons so they could get on a last-minute plane to Houston (side note, air travel in the 70's sounds WILD). Eventually, he could tell us anything, and it wouldn't surprise us, it was just his nature.

Over time we grew to question the validity of his autobiography, often thinking "maybe some of this happened, but not that way." However, in the weeks leading up to and after his death, we were sent several written versions of some of the tallest tales we'd been told, recounted by the friends who were with him at the time. Without fail each of them matched exactly to Jones' telling, with only minor details like the color of a shoe (haunted, to be clear) being different.

Jones graduated from the University of Georgia in 1976 with a degree in business and soon after moved to Texas to take a job at National Car Rental. He quickly realized that the corporate world was not for him and decided to forge his own path. So, in the late 70s he moved to Vermont and shed his southern accent, but not the rich southern charm and energy that characterized him. There he found work at a restaurant where he met his 'true love,' Laura, and decided he would follow her anywhere.

Their relationship was charmed. Together they traveled, skied, hiked, canoed, and camped anywhere they could. They quickly found ways to work side by side; A summer caretaking and catering in Small Point, Maine, which they revisited time and time again. They spent a magical year as caretakers at Merck Forest in Rupert, VT, where they would later marry. They married in 1989 and a year later, welcomed their daughter, Tucker, followed by their son, Dakota. Together they built their home, cultivated their gardens, and raised their children in the forests of Underhill. When Laura's work took them for a 3 year stint to Charleston, South Carolina, Jones began to grow peppers, both sweet and hot. Selling his produce to local stores and at the farmers market. He became known as 'The Pepper Guy.'

After returning home to Vermont Jones began the job that was the ultimate gift to his family. He became a 'stay at home Dad' and was completely dedicated to giving everything he could to his children. The job did have its perks, every other year the family spent a month on the Caribbean island of Barbuda, where Laura worked as a volunteer doctor and Jones became the schoolmaster for the kids.

Jones loved to travel. He was ever musing about and planning visits to distant places and never turned down an opportunity to explore the world. Whether it was a cross country road trip, a wilderness canoe journey, or a tour of foreign cathedrals and ruins, he was on board. But as much as he loved to be on the move he equally loved to be in the paradise he called home, to sit and read, or just gaze at the surrounding world. He began every morning drinking a cup of coffee; by the wood stove in winter or in the garden in summer, and found no greater pleasure than to wander through his own gardens when the quiet of the long summer evenings fell.

Jones may have mellowed as time went by, but he remained the same "idea guy" that earlier in life led him into occasional trouble. His energy was instead directed toward art and exploration. When he thought of something that he wanted to create, he'd spend countless hours planning every minute detail. Some dreams were realized on a large scale - such as the drafting and building of his home and the near-constant evolution of the accompanying gardens. Other ideas manifested in simpler ways, through actions only recognizable by those who knew him well. A clever gift, the subtle placement of a stone or feather, or his carefully selected terms of endearment. To our great fortune, his most joyful creative outlet was the preparation of food. Like a hobbit, he loved a good meal and was ever in search of the "best of" recipes, which he'd inevitably make better.

His artistry, though, expanded far beyond the kitchen. He found joy in painting with oils for years, and later directed his passion toward the written word. He wrote prolifically, a seemingly endless stream of prose. He published one novel, "The Steep Side of the Marble," and had myriad more in the works.

Full voiced with big opinions, Jones had a raw energy that seemingly forbade him from shirking away from his beliefs, which he'd gladly share in any conversation. For better or worse everyone who met him left with a story to tell.

Even now that he's gone he still manages to hold us in awe, wanting only for another story. And though we may not get that, he leaves us with the gifts of boundless love, the permission to dream, a little bit of stubbornness, and the knowledge that sometimes you have to accept that there might just be a ghost in the rocking chair.

He loved his home, his gardens, and his dogs, but most of all Jones loved his family. He gave his whole self to us. He will forever be felt wrapping himself around us as we sit within the .walls of the house he built and the gardens he planted.

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A celebration for Jones will be held on Saturday, July 19th. Contact Laura for details.