George Jones was from that special generation of Americans who came of age during very hard times, and who seemed to instinctively understand those simple things that could make them free and strong: self-reliance, hard work, and undivided devotion to God, family and country.
But most of all, no matter how hard things got, George’s generation would never, ever even think of quitting on themselves, or anyone who depended on them. The last time I saw George, we were playing golf during a Friday night scramble at the Old Club. We were on the ninth fairway, and there was old George, eyeing his shot with a club in one hand, and a cane in the other. He took a big swing, like everything else he ever did, and we cheered as the ball landed on the green, but when we turned around to congratulate him, there was George, flat on his back, with a big happy smile on his face.
That was George Jones, and he will be fondly remembered by all who knew him.