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Proctor Patterson Jones Jr.

1952 - 2025

Proctor Patterson Jones Jr. obituary, 1952-2025, San Francisco, CA

BORN

1952

DIED

2025

Proctor Jones Obituary

Proctor Patterson Jones, Jr.
07/17/1952 - 04/09/2025
Proctor died at home on April 9, 2025, at 72 after a prolonged illness. The second son of Proctor and Martha Jones, he was raised in San Francisco, attended Grant Elementary School, Cathedral School for Boys, Shawnigan Lake School (British Columbia), Midland Academy, and graduated from Washington High School. Like his father, Proctor was a photographer, and they worked on many travel/photographic books together, including the Dawn of Glasnost, given by President Reagan to President Gorbachev on his visit to the US, as well as several Napoleonic tomes.
Moving to Paris after high school, he worked at Mother Earth's Café, a gathering place for artists and Americans, and as a bartender at Joe Allen's for several years. He developed a passion for all things French, as well as a command of the language, and made a pilgrimage to France at least annually throughout his life.
Proctor was known for his artistic sensibilities and zest for life, much of which was inspired by his lifetime friendships with restaurateur Enrico Banducci, writer Curt Gentry, cowboy Bob Cecchini, artist Tony Dingman, and poet Gino Sky, all of whom encouraged him to live life to its fullest, to never sacrifice the creative, and to value good fellowship. Proctor was a skilled cook, who loved to entertain, and his parties were known for their good food and drink, bawdy jokes, music, and unusual hats. Often seen zipping along in his Vespa from Sutro Heights to North Beach, in search of fabulous foods at his favorite places - Swan Oyster Depot, Little City Market and Lucca's Deli.
He adored San Francisco with its vibrant history and colorful personalities and was a guide at Mr. Toad's Tours, as well as taking many on tours throughout the City in his beloved Model A Ford with its distinctive horn, which he rang to smiles and waves. He also was a fixture at Café Trieste, where he took immense pleasure in the warm friendships garnered over coffee and conversation.
He was a devoted husband of thirty-two years, and his greatest joy was his daughter, Alice May Pfeffer Tugboat Jones. Proctor was a full-time dad - determined to raise a cultured San Franciscan by encouraging sailing, scuba, and accordion lessons - none of which stuck. Instead, he imparted values of kindness, curiosity and an open-hearted approach to life: a willingness to befriend a stranger and to always offer a seat at the table; a staunch need to be early and slightly over-dressed; and a deep admiration for the natural beauty of California. He delighted in sharing the redwoods with Alice and his beloved Stinson Beach and instilled in her an unwavering pride and gratitude in being a part of the most beautiful city in the world.
He took grand joy in the fellowship he received as a member of the Bohemian Club, Olympic Club, St. Francis Yacht Club, and the Travellers Club in Paris. He is survived by his wife Leslie Ward and daughter Alice, brother, John Beverly, and sisters Martha Griffinger and Jessica Jones; eleven nieces and nephews; and his beloved cats, Polly and Jacques. Special thanks to the wonderful gentlemen that took care of him over the last three years. Your patience deserves a toast! There will be a celebration of his life later this summer. Donations to his memory may be made in his name to the San Francisco Historical Society.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by San Francisco Chronicle on Apr. 24, 2025.

Memories and Condolences
for Proctor Jones

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Corliss Blue

July 29, 2025

LA ~ 1980s. Proctor & his brother Bev brought an amazing joy and love into my life when I so needed it. Always laughing, inspiring & living to the fullest. Much love to his entire family. I will hold him on high always.

Blandina Farley

July 8, 2025

Proctor Jones will always be one of my favorite people!!! He represents the best. most colorful & interesting part of San Francisco to me. We even shared an earthquake together in my home in the old Roma Macaroni Factory on Telegraph Hill...He was a gorgeous photographer and even took a lovely bxw photo of moi.... He fulfilled my dream of dinner at Cafe Jacqueline in North Beach...We were fellow Tour Guides with a lot of history etc etc....I hope i hear about his life celebration cause I don't want to miss that too xoxo
Condolences Dear Family ...Sending Love to you all !

Mike

July 8, 2025

Condolences to Proctor´s family and friends. I met Proctor in San Francisco through a friend during Proctor's stint as "A Blue Blood on Wheels" in the 1970´s and although it was the only time we were acquainted. His persona is not a forgettable one. I learned more about San Fran in those few days than I had in two other prior visits. God blessed us all by crossing paths with Proctor Jones.

George Aknin

May 6, 2025

Sharing a sandwich and a bottle of1982 Margaux at the airport in Papeete (Tahiti) in1993.

mitch

May 5, 2025

....my apologies... Tugboat Alice... I remember when he proudly proclaimed that he was naming his daughter Tugboat...

Mitch

May 5, 2025

Bigger than life Proctor Jones...another phrase that gets tossed around...but in this case so true. My sincere condolences to the Leslie, Tugboat Annie and the family. My favorite memory was scuba diving with Proctor in Bermuda. It was like a Cousteau film. On land he was a lumbering walrus but under the sea he was a graceful sea creature. He'd swim into my mask view like a curios otter and induce me to blow bubbles of laughter through my regulator. What a man...a Dark and Stormy toast to Proctor!

Peter digrazia

May 5, 2025

The phrase gentleman and a scholar gets tossed around easily but it fits Proctor like one of his tweed jackets. A poet, photographer, husband, father, and my dear friend from way back. We have lost an original character of legendary proportions. No more pain. Rest in Peace

Duane J Perry

May 1, 2025

Always a dynamic personality, great friend and neighbor. Please guide and watch over Leslie and Alice and every so often, the rest of us once. Knew you were struggling and wish I had reached out more. Rest in peace my friend.

Suzanne Myers

May 1, 2025

You will be fondly remembered for your style, grace & humor.
Suzanne & Dallas

Cluster of 50 Memorial Trees

Lisa & Mark Miller

Planted Trees

Tracy

April 30, 2025

I only met Proctor once last year and fall into the category of knowing him because of his "willingness to befriend a stranger." I and a friend of mine spent a couple hours drinking Bloody Marys with him at the SF yacht club and telling tales of the Bay Area, Hawaii, sailing, and cats. We even shared cat photos. ;-) It was clear that with all his joy of a life well lived his biggest pride was of Alice. It was lovely to see. And yes, we shared photos of our kids as well. I am sorry to hear about his passing and my heart goes out to his family, friends, and felines.

Declan & Irene

April 30, 2025

A wonderful individual - we will miss his enthusiasm for life and his colorful character

randy martin

April 29, 2025

rest in peace, cousin.

Judy Patton Morrisey

April 28, 2025

Leslie and Alice, sending much love to you both. There is no doubt that he will be missed especially by you two and the world he so engagingly took part in. We sure did have fun. Repose en paix, mon
ami. Amuse-toi bien au ciel .
Miss you all.
Judy

Eco-Friendly Memorial Trees

Rose and Barry Rose

Planted Trees

Bert Lawrence

April 26, 2025

I was in France during ´73 through ´75.

Occasionally I would do the "American thing" and stop by Mother Earth´s where I would take a seat at the bar and talk to the owner and other Americans, and then, on occasion, I would continue my walk up a couple streets to Joe Allen´s for an Irish Coffee, where I became friends with the bartender, Proctor, who was also from the San Francisco Bay Area. He was a good guy, and we even knew some of the same people from Stinson Beach since his family owned a house out there alongside the ocean, although their house was in the exclusive Seadrift community that had its own gate guard.
My garret could comfortably accommodate about three people, four was a crowd, however on this night, I crammed nearly twenty people into my apartment, and in anticipation, I had even stocked up on copious amounts of toilet paper for any of my guests who might need to use the Turkish toilet down the hall. A couple of my rich American friends from the Cordon Blue showed up, as well as a few pretty Scandinavian ladies whom I had met at the Sorbonne and were working as "au-pères" for wealthy Parisians. Even Proctor, my bartender friend whom I had met at Joe Allen´s.

Though I had the pots and pans from the restaurant, I had forgotten to take something with which I could stir the pasta sauce, so, in desperation, I found myself stirring the huge pot of spaghetti with a long broom handle. I noticed that when I pulled the broom handle out of the pot that all of the lacquer on the handle was gone. Only Proctor and I were witness to this snafu, but Proctor wasn´t about to make a scene, he was familiar with the restaurant business. I had a moment of anxiety, but it was too late to do anything about it; people were hungry and it was time to dish up the food.

Just at that moment there was a knock on the door. I opened the door, and standing there before me was Leroy [Haynes], his huge body breathing heavily, such that he had to lean upon the doorframe with one of his beefy hands. He had traveled clear across town by taxi, then huffed and puffed his way up seven flights of stairs to eat spaghetti in my tiny abode. I offered him the only comfortable seat in my garret apartment that could accommodate his massive frame, which was my bed, upon which he plopped himself right down in the middle. Before long he had a bevy of blond Scandinavian girls squeezing in on each side, for Leroy was like a huge teddy bear. Leroy enjoyed himself that evening, and everyone complimented me on the spaghetti. The Cordon Blue students in particular, interminably discussed my sauce´s hidden nuances of which these true epicureans self-assuredly declared they had discerned a unique tannic taste, akin to that found in finely aged red wines, perhaps a Burgundy that they had not yet encountered, and though they resorted to all sorts of persuasion techniques in their fervent attempts to compel me to reveal my recipe, I held firm, and declined to divulge the secret ingredient that had made my spaghetti such an unforgettable one-time creation.

Proctor and I kept in touch. On the 13th of March 2014, I knocked on his door and met his lovely wife Leslie. Then Proctor and I drove over to the Cliff House in his old jalopy and took lunch together.

He will be missed.

Bert Lawrence

Phillip Heffernan

April 25, 2025

One of a kind. All who knew him will miss his mirth and joie de vivre. Bon voyage mon vieux, a bientot!

Donald Sambucci

April 25, 2025

Remembering him frequently walking across San Francisco... please accept my deepest condolences.

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