Ellen Jeanne Tierney-Jones

Although the name Ellen is only worth 5 Scrabble points, she’d still find a way to kick your butt with it. In fact, one of her proudest accomplishments was finally beating her father, Hugh Tierney, whom she adored, in Scrabble. Legend has it Ellen Jeanne Tierney-Jones was born on September 25, 1965, with the queen of spades in her hand, already shooting the moon in Hearts. She was a native of Syracuse, NY, and resident of Waynesboro, Vuh-gin-yuh, Lee, MA, and Knoxville, TN. Growing up, there was always a fresh pot of coffee at home and someone ready to play cards, such as her mother Nancy (Tierney) Fitzgerald or grandmother Arleigh Ives. Elle bonded with loved ones over cards and word games until February 2, 2025, when she passed away due to complications of the flu, surrounded by family.

As a young girl with pigtails, Elle followed behind her surviving older brother, Brian Tierney, and her dearly departed older brother, Doug Tierney, whom she fondly remembered taking her to the record store to cheer her up. Later, she connected generations of nieces, nephews, and their children with their ancestry and family traditions — even making new traditions, like chasing Pokémon together.

Elle’s heartfelt eulogy of her father more than 30 years ago still echoes with her family today. As she explained then, “there is a common parallel between Dandelions and people. Dandelions are a strong flower…they dig their roots deep and never give up. You can even try to run them over with your lawn mowers…but you will never get rid of them. A Dandelion, with its magnificent color, that can never be matched, is gentle and hardy. Although we believe that the Dandelion dies when it turns into a puff ball, it doesn't really, for the wind and the rain lead the Dandelion to a new direction. The Dandelion once again blooms – and brings with it its silent beauty.”

Elle was a proud defender of human and women’s rights and a champion of the knowledge granted by education, which could never be taken from you. She began her career administering a grant to support women in non-traditional careers at Berkshire Community College, Pittsfield, MA.

Elle and her husband, Dan Jones, recently celebrated 39 years together. They shared the deep understanding that only a lifetime of loving one another can bring. They were partners in everything and enjoyed just being together, especially long summer evenings on the back deck, sharing a cheese board with their dogs at their feet. Their love was all about those everyday moments — the comfortable silences, the laughter over inside jokes, and the easy companionship. With Elle, Dan found more than just a partner — he found his one true love, and he will forever miss her laughter, sharp wit, and beautiful soul.

If someone complained about something minor, she’d tell you that “life sucks then you die,” and although she’s gone now, her laugh and smile gave away there’s no way she really believed life sucks. She found joy in things both big and little, be it making a whistle from a blade of grass, planning parties for others’ milestones, or simply celebrating life’s absurdities

She found a great companion in her daughter, Arleigh, for planning life’s little adventures. No idea was too small to delight in, no plan too whimsical to consider. An endless stream of 'and then we could' led to days filled with giggles, charcuterie, and a shared joy in life’s little luxuries. Arleigh will miss thoughtful toogrie-oogries, a little gift “just because,” and the way her mom could turn the ordinary into something magical.

Whenever she celebrated, Elle made sure to involve everyone, their brother, and their brother’s neighbor, and she had to cook something for everyone (3 baked potatoes per person!). Nothing in Elle’s world was ever bland, least of all her cooking. She truly was a lover of bacon grease and green beans, a scholar of obscure French cooking terminology, a recipe nonconformist, and, most of all, a believer that feeding someone is one of the purest ways to say, “I love you.”

She passed that love to her son, Ben, along with well-worn recipes and fearless creativity in the kitchen. Even as a toddler perched on a chair, he learned by her side that the best meals (and memories) come from cooking together, and that a shared meal is always about more than just the food.

Chief among her passions was connecting with people over their stories — their journey. Like the puzzles she aced, she adored each piece someone shared with her. Her listening and curious ear was how many came to love her most, including her kiddo-in-law, Elena, who felt Elle’s love from the first hug and grilled cheese at home. Elle loudly and proudly celebrated what made Elena unique, as she did for each person in her life - getting to know and value others by their character.

Elle loved animals with all her heart. Barkley, her Golden Retriever shadow, sat on the porch with her as she drank her morning coffee. Despite all his quirks and the drool slung floor to ceiling, bless his heart, she adored her sweet Newfoundland, Beauregard. She loved to laugh when her Berner Ollie “stole” a sweet potato from the pantry that Elle had placed there just for him. She will be missed dearly by her Berner Daisy, with whom she loved to cuddle, and Dan’s 150 pound Newfie Bjorn, who doesn’t quite understand that he isn’t a lap dog.

Elle was selfless to her core. For her 40th birthday, she performed 40 random acts of kindness, where cookies found their way to firehouses, candles were lit for the departed, and kindness was spread just because Elle wouldn’t have had it any other way.

In keeping with Elle’s loving spirit, the family asks that, in lieu of sending flowers, anyone wishing to honor her memory perform a random act of kindness. Those who wish to share their acts of kindness with Elle’s family and friends are encouraged to leave a message on the obituary website. Donations to Planned Parenthood of Tennessee and North Mississippi are also welcome.

A celebration of life will be announced at a later date. So today, and again when we gather, let’s honor Elle in the way she would want — by lifting a glass, telling a story, and, as Bono would say, carrying each other. Because in Elle’s world, there was always something worth celebrating.

And, in the spring, when the Dandelions bloom again, take a look at that flower and you will see Elle heading to her new direction and path — yet, still growing; and still sharing her beauty, love, and strength with us all. And always remember to “stop and smell the Dandelions.”