James "Jim" Russell Jones

On Sunday, June 21st, Raleigh native James (Jim) Russell Jones drew his last breath. He died peacefully in his home of over forty years where he raised his three boys, overlooking the pond he and his father dug, in the presence of his adoring wife (and faithful dog).

Born in 1948, Jim grew up in the heart of Raleigh with his family. He loved walking to the movies at the Rialto Theater, dogs, fishing, and playing football. There was not a single season of his life he was ever without a dog; Peanut being his final companion (and the only one to ever catch a rabbit).

Jim's lifelong enthusiasm for cars ignited the moment he got on a set of wheels. He rode dirt bikes and drag raced muscle cars. He once drove nonstop with a friend cross country in 48 hours. In their youth Jim and his friends who also drag raced were rumored to have tried their luck on more than one occasion with the Raleigh police, starting at the original Char-Grill on Hillsborough St.

At twenty-two, with the Vietnam War intensifying, Jim voluntarily enlisted in the U.S. Air Force and trained as a MedTech. His service profoundly shaped his life. Outside North Carolina, the only place he ever truly called home was Sheppard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls, Texas. Though he traveled farther afield—including a family trip to Scotland to see his grandmother's ancestral home—he ultimately concluded that Atlantic Beach was better than London or Paris.

An avid outdoorsman, Jim spent countless hours hunting, fishing, and enjoying nature alongside family, friends, and his beloved duck dog, Muffin. He cherished the fellowship that came with early mornings in the duck blind and post-hunt breakfasts at McDonald's or the Biscuit Stop. His passion for the outdoors led him to open The Hunter's Choice, a venture that later became the springboard to owning and operating the Raleigh Flea Market Mall.

Jim liked cars and dogs and hunting and that life fine, but he wanted a family. “More than anything, he wanted a family so badly. And he got it. Oh he got it.” His sister Alice remembered on the night Jim passed, sitting around the table with Julie and family.

“Julie” was Jim’s last word. In a world where so much went dim for him, she didn’t. She displayed total faithfulness, devotion, and servant-hearted love. For decades—and especially during his final years—she cared for and honored her husband with extraordinary dedication.

It was forty-two years ago Jim met Julie, on a blind date arranged by friends. On their second date, Jim brought Julie to the pond at what would soon be their home - and they went out on the boat. Jim proposed as soon as he could muster the courage (which just so happened to be when Julie’s father was traveling overseas) and they had a Christmas wedding with over 200 sand dollars Julie and Jim collected in Bogue sound and made into gifts for guests.

Together, down in the pines with the dogs and pond, Jim and Julie raised their three boys. They taught them all the things that they could. While Julie took care of the finer things like music, church and school lessons, Jim embodied some hybrid of Tim the Toolman Taylor from Home Improvement and Burt Reynolds in Smokey and The Bandit. To be a child in their home was to know you were cherished.

He insisted on being present—dropping the boys off at school, picking them up, and faithfully showing up for church activities, sports, martial arts, band concerts, and countless other events. As his sons said, "We never had to wonder if Dad would be at a game, award ceremony, or recital. Dad always showed up."

Jim took great pride in teaching his boys all he could. They learned to drive a stick shift, back a trailer, change oil, waterski, snow ski, rig a fishing pole, handle a shotgun responsibly, hunt fairly, and stand up for others. They learned respect for property and care for people. Even when one of his prized vehicles was damaged, his first concern was always whether everyone was safe.

It was one of the greatest honors of Jim’s life to be asked to serve as the best man to all three of his sons on their wedding days, and a greater honor further to never in his life have go long without seeing each of his boys and their families, no matter the distance or the happenings of life. His boys always came back.

Friends of Jim’s sons, now grown, were kind to share with the family the atmosphere growing up around Mr. Jones: “It was so evident he wanted to give you all a fun, memorable and meaningful childhood. I was envious of him because he was so sure of what he wanted and so unapologetic about it.” Some, drawing perhaps on specific instances, recalled, “I knew he’d always help us. There was never a doubt in my mind he’d be there if we needed help.” Many remember him making them feel safe, making them laugh, or being spontaneously generous. “There was nothing like the anticipation of getting to go to Fort Jones.” Several friends referred to the “legend” of Jim Jones: “He was such a presence, while not even making himself out to be anything more than who he was.” Another recalled, “Mr. Jones was just this steadfast and deeply impactful model of generosity, authenticity, and loyalty.” You could shoot a hole in his duck boat, roll his ATV down a ravine, or literally sink one of his jet skis - and still be genuinely welcome in his home. Another recalled an actual scenario where they had a loved one fleeing a physically dangerous person in Raleigh, police involved and all, and Jim called, telling him to come down to the pines and pond, he’d lock the gate: “Guaranteed safe, no one is getting through that gate. Trust me. Come.” Smokey and Bandit, for real.

In the last years of his life as he became more home-bound and eventually bedridden, on many occasions, Jim could look out and see his children’s children fishing in the same pond, driving Power Wheels through the yard, chasing their dogs, and being watched over by Julie. He was able to still go outside, and even to ride in his 1968 Camaro just a few weeks ago, top down all the way to Char-Grill.

From the only poem he ever displayed on his desk: “Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

James Russell Jones. Jim. Dad. Pops.

1948–2026

Jim is survived by Julie and their sons: David Rusell (Katie), Scott Hinnant (Katie), Jason Robert (Lizzie), and 8 grandchildren: Braxton Russell, Ryder William, Welsey Barrett, Juliette May, Ruby Kate, Annabelle Scott, Sawyer Ebenezer, and Luke McKinley. Also, his sister, Alice Jones Harrod (Keith) of Raleigh and brother Seby (Chip) B. Jones, Jr. (Rose) of Wilmington. He was predeceased by his parents, Seby and Christina Jones, his brother Roddy Jones, and his granddaughter, June Alice Jones.

A celebration of life will be held at Ridge Road Baptist Church, Saturday, June 27th at 10am, officiated by Dr. Dennis Herman.

In lieu of flowers, the family would be honored if you would consider a gift to the North Carolina Youth Outdoor Engagement Commission in Jim's memory, furthering his desire to help young people experience and enjoy the outdoors. https://ncofoundation.org/donate

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