Mister Jones

"...life is so damn fickle, we are led by circumstances into areas that compromise some of the things we want to do."


this is my Grampa Jones ... flew bombers in WW2, came home & made a family, then took off. We got letters every now & then. I never knew the full story till earlier this year when I asked my mother (Peggy) if she saved any of his old letters. She then brought out a box full of them.


He lived life the way he wanted, right up to the day that he chose to end it all with a bullet to his head.

We lived in Dallas, my Uncle Mitch lived in Austin, Aunt Susan attended Oxford at the time, and Uncle Rusty~ a paranoid schizophrenic~ lived wherever the hell he wanted to live.

I changed everyone's name except my own. I'm Amy, I was just a kid in the 70's and had no idea what my grandfather was up to. I remember my mom sitting at the table reading his letters, sometimes laughing and sometimes crying. Now I get it.