A Bit About Me

The Jones that I know the most about is me, so I will tell you a bit about myself. I will write more about me at different times in the future but this is my introduction story.

I was born in Wilmington, Delaware on the ninth day of December in the year 1945. I was a surprise to everyone. My parents had not expected to have children so early in life. In fact, I don’t believe they even expected to be married so early, and possibly not even to each other. Never the less, I was born on that day, my parents were married to each other and they remained married for as long as they both lived.

I have forgotten much of my very early childhood but certain memories stand out. I remember when my sister Barbara was born and came home from the hospital. I was a few months less than 3 years old. I remember at about age four that I knocked out both my front teeth chasing another child that had taken my wagon. My favorite memory from those early years was visiting Mr. Brown’s candy store across the street where two pennies would buy ten pieces of candy.

My parents were the best parents they knew how to be but not all my memories were happy ones. My father left the family for a while, but he came back. Another time my mother left, but came back too. Those were very sad times.

When I was nine years old I was inoculated with a new vaccine to protect me from the disease of polio. But, I contracted polio anyway. Later I would learn that it was the vaccine that had caused the polio. A thousand children in the vicinity of Philadelphia had received the same faulty vaccine and many had fallen ill. I was fortunate that polio did not cause me to be permanently paralyzed.

At the same time my polio illness ended my doctors discovered that a different disease had caused me to suffer a deformity in one of my hip joints. The treatment for that illness required that I walk with crutches for three years. Much later in life the bone deformity required that my hip joint be replaced with an artificial hip made of titanium metal and plastic. From the age of 13 until 55 I had to be careful not to cause injury to my weakened hip so I avoided sports in school and I had to restrict my physical activities.

Despite having health challenges as a boy I enjoyed good health during my adult years. I do have a tendency to have blood pressure higher than normal and my cholesterol also is a little high but those conditions are common in many people as they get older.

When I look back on my life I feel that it was a good one. I felt loved and I know that I was. Time seems to erase much of the pain that comes with bad memories. I have been left with a lifetime of pleasant memories that I can replay over and over in my mind.

My Own Grandparents

I was born in 1945, just four months after the end of World War Two. My parents met each other earlier that same year in New York City. My Dad, Dudley, was a submarine sailor in the Navy and my mother, Ruth, was in the Women’s Army Corps (WAC) working at the Army post office. Dad was handsome in his uniform and Mom said it was love at first site.

After military service they moved to Wilmington, Delaware and lived just around the corner from my mother’s parents, Axel and Gerta Swenson. I spent my early years growing up in my Grandma Swenson’s house since both Mom and Dad worked. My grandparents had come to America from Sweden and spoke Swedish in their home so I learned to speak in two languages at once; English and Swedish. I wish I still knew Swedish but I had forgotten it all by the time I started school.
Granddad Swenson was a machinist for the DuPont company. He operated very large machines that drilled and cut metal to make the parts of other machines. He learned many years afterward that one machine he had made parts for was the atomic bomb that was dropped on Japan to end the World War. Grandma Swenson was a home maker and I remember that her house was always filled with the scent of baking cookies, pies and cakes.

My father’s parents lived in Virginia. His father, Allen, was a minister and served as a chaplain in the Navy during the war. Granddad Jones had served in the Pacific and landed with the Marines during the invasion of several islands held by the Japanese. He did not speak often of those days but when he did his voice grew soft and his eyes filled with tears. Grandma Jones, Clara, was a typical minister’s wife and often was busy helping other church families even while she raised a large family of her own.

I feel fortunate to have known all four of my grandparents. They were in my life often when I was a boy. I was very sad to lose them one at a time over the years. I often think back to our time together and remember them fondly. Grandparents can occupy a very special place in our lives. They can know us in a way that few others can because they can recognize something of themselves in us; they are able to better understand why we are the way we are. I hope you each have the opportunity to know your grandparents.

I'm a Jones On the Inside

My name is Bob Jones. That is what I invite people to call me. I have been called other names; like Bobby, Little Bob, Robert, Darlin' and Hey You! My parents could have named me almost anything but whatever name they may have put first they were sure to put Jones last. My dad was a Jones and his dad was a Jones and so on and so on, right back to who knows when. If we could look through a telescope that peered into the past we would see a long line of Joneses stretching over the horizon and clear out of sight. Even if I were to change my name to something else there still would be all those Joneses in my past. There is no escaping it. So, I guess I am a Jones through and through.

I am writing this blog for all the descendants who will come after me; my children and their children and their children. I will never know many of them and they may never know me. But, I will be there, standing behind them in that line of Joneses that stretches on forever. Even if their last names are something different like Smith or O'Brien or Obama, still they will have me back there in their past. Whatever their names may be they will have a little bit of Jones on the inside.

I will write here about the people in our past; at least the ones I know about. And I will write not only about the Jones people but also about some of the others, like the Swensons who were my mother's parents. Because they are a part of the Jones that I am, so they also are part of the Joneses that will follow me, and you.

I hope you enjoy learning something about the people in your past. We have many good people in common and maybe even a few bad ones. Some are interesting. Some are REAL interesting.