Roy Wayne Jones Sr.

Roy Wayne Jones Sr., A.K.A. Mutt, my grandfather was very simple. He loved his mother and father, his big sister, his wife and all his babies - 3 children, 8 grandchildren, and 14 great-grandchildren.

My grandfather, my tata, was born in De Queen, Arkansas during wartime America. The depression had just ended and WWII was just beginning. Like most families during that time, he had to help. He began working as a young boy picking strawberries and later, cotton. Before he could be drafted into the Army, he enlisted at 17 and a half years old while still a senior in high school. He served for 4 years when the country was well into the Cold War. He had a strong sense of duty and his infantry book remained one of his prized possessions.

As an adult, he worked with the railroad and met a beautiful young woman, my grandmother. They married in 1964 and spent 5 years at the Grand Canyon for work. In 1969, they moved to Yuma where they bought a house to raise their family.

As a family man, he worked for a trucking company before entering the school system as a janitor. Outside of work, he coached for Country Boys Baseball and Yuma Girls Softball. He taught his children and grandchildren to play. With that passion, he also instilled his superstitions. To this day, I still pick up my feet while driving over railroad tracks. Somehow, he still found the time to write. He published his first western novel in 1979. Tata loved history and loved to tell stories. Before he retired from writing, he published 5 novels.

Tata accomplished a lot in his life. He beat cancer and battled dementia, but most of all, he battled us kids to not slam his doors, close the door because he was sure we weren't raised in a barn, shut off the lights and quit smacking gum like cows chewing cud. And he did it all because he was a hot-tempered, stubborn old fool with a huge heart.