“Save your hay…”

~ Silas Johnson Jones ~
September 24, 1921 ~ February 26, 1999

Almost everything you needed to know about my dad could be heard in his laugh;

stern yet yielding, pragmatic and playful, approachable and plain ol’ fun. Silas Johnson Jones (he hated the middle name) would be 91 years old today. He was 77 when he died of sudden cardiac death, walking back from the mailbox at the end of his driveway in Albany, Georgia.  There was no suffering in that moment, he was “dead on the way to the ground” the doctor said, as is the case when oxygen to the heart is cut off. I was grateful that his life ended with him on the move, outside under the big sky where he loved to spend time; hunting, fishing, puttsing around in the garden or yard.

Whatever I know about telling a story I learned from him, a natural master at timing, inflection and all the stuff workshops teach you.

Within our family he was a legend in his own time; the baby uncle because he was the last born in a family of 21. His dad, Ras Jones, married twice, but that’s another story for another time.

Yes, Silas has much in common with my story’s hero, Fletcher Dukes, as you will learn in time, but for today, let these pictures tell a story, and take this quote my dad often repeated:

“Save your hay…
…you might marry a mule one day.”