HERE ARE 4 PHOTO'S OF NEPHI JONES BOYS; TWO OF WHICH HAVE ROSE TO HIGHER LEVELS

 THIS ABOVE PHOTO IS OF ALMA COYN JONES JUST BEFORE HE ENTERED WW 
TWO AS AN ARMY MEDIC, BUT EXHANGED LETTERS WITH HIS WIFE TO BE.

THE SECOND PHOTO IS OF KENT WM. JONES WHEN HE WAS ABOUT A YEAR OLD AND THAT SMILE COULD BE A HINT WHY HE GOT KICKED OUT OF KINDERGARTEN, BUT LATER GOT BACK IN AFTER MUCH ADO ABOUT AN ESCAPED FROG THAT SOMEHOW GOT NEAR THE FACE OF A CLASSMATE WHICH NEARLY WOKE THE SCREAMING TEACHER AWAKE!

THE  PHOTO BELOW IS OF JUSTIN AND HIS LITTLE BROTHER TROY COYN JONES WHO STUMBLED WHEN HIS HERO;BROTHER AND BEST FRIEND-JUSTIN DIED. TROY IS TRYING TO STAND BACK UP, BUT RESISTS THE CHANGE. WE HOPE THE BEST FOR HIS  BIRTHDAY, EVEN THOUGH IT WILL BE NEXT MONTH ON FRIDAY THE 13TH, AND BE 45.

THE OLDERTOE HEAD SON IS THE KID ON THE LEFT IS JUSTIN AND TROY ON THE RIGHT AND WE PRAY TROY WILL STAY ON THE RIGHT PATH. AT AGE 38,JUSTIN WM. JONES  HAS TOOK HIS OWN MEASURES TO JOIN HIS GRANDPA ALMA-COYN JONES WHO SITS ON THE JONES HOME PORCH SINCE 1885 AS WELL AS THE GREAT CHAIRS.

                                             

                                        

I WAS A FEW DAYS LATE, BUT TOOK MY SISTER TO LUNCH YESTERDAY

I had a battle with the Flu for the past two weeks, so I took my best sister to lunch yesterday, and like we were taught as youngster's, we ate everything we piled on two separate helpings at an all you can eat at a buffet yesterday, and she let me choose which buffet I chose. We didn't have to show our old age to the cashier, for one reason  or another we looked old far beyond the minimum age level. The great thing, we didn't have to listen to the screaming kids and cleaned the plates clean, and the food tasted almost as good as Moms cooking. When I got home I fell fast asleep and great food has a way of us feel at home. I  not sure if Heaven, if we make it there- have the great food that only a Mom can make from scratch as Heavenly food may not quite be as good as earth food, but it all tasted so good, I fell asleep fast and it was only five at evening tide. It made me think of us kids waiting for the Amen after the blessing of the food, then it was a friendly battle for the food. What we didn't went to our dog "Nick" then the rest to our pigs sprinkled with grain on the leftovers and the feeder waddled out to the dog and pig pen and humans and animals smiled. Funny how our dog and horse were like a member of the family and no, we didn't take our horse to the stores. It was our comfort pal, but not about to bring them in the house or let them bark or cause issues with good neighbors.

TODAY WAS THE FUNERAL OF DEAN BAILEY, BORN AND STAYED A LOCAL GOOD MAN.

Dean Bailey was a son of gun, and a son of a Bishop. It was clear that Dean and his little brothers and sister would always stay on the straight and narrow, as his Daddy-Don Bailey was tough enough to take them all on at once, and the kids stayed pretty much on that fine line. Dean was a classmate of mine and the other close knit Class of 65. He was actually way older than me, however, as the Stork dropped me over the Jones Abode 32 days later. That was when many of the kids including Dean, had chores to do before and after school, and walked to and from school, as most kids did that on a routine basis. Dean must have more smarts that us lower IQ dumbbells', as he waited until many of his 100 school mates went off to college or to the front line of a foreign hell-hole called Nam. As soon as we were out of site, Dean started to sing to Ann Hall, and Heaven knows that Deano couldn't sing a lick like the Martin of Dean. Ann was a classmate, and she wasn't just beautiful, but smart too. I had to take a break to go through the 1965 Nebonian, and although Ann made an entry in my book, she and most of the kids didn't believe I could survive rolling down two flights of cement stairs like I did. That may be why Ann chose Dean as her one and only. I did have to say Hi to Ann on the way out, and told her I felt bad for what she had to endure, not only losing two of their kids, but being the caregiver to Dean. Funerals are not known for content and happiness, but as I sat near the last row of the filled chapel, I finally felt at home. Behind me were cousins Paula Garrett; Ilene Sanders; in front of me was war torn Glen Davis and his two sisters and to my left was Jimmy Ockey, and I pretended Ralph Murray was in his regular place on the back row so he could plug in the speaker system, but for some reason, the Bishop wasn't J. Ivan Tew; Donald Bailey or even Ralph Chase, but I could feel their presence and as all were 4th Warders, and when they may be called home, we all can care for Dean, so Ann can rest a bit as he is taken care of. I then gazed to my right and up near the top, I could sense my father-Alma Jones who was busy doing the stucco work, as that is what all 4th Warders did when that chapel was built. I mixed the mud while he plastered. Ann, Dean is well taken care of just like Perry did for you kids, and I felt comfort for your grandparents, as my father and me stuccoed their home. I felt more at my real home in the 4th Ward, as Nephi is not the Nephi we grew up in, and when we are called home to our real home, your folks & Dean will be there. That is not a bluff, although I have brain damage. Just the facts, Maam.

JAN.5 1979-THAT WAS ONE OF THE BEST DAYS IN MY LIFE.

I waited until I was 28 before I got hitched, and although that marriage may not have lasted for a record breaking time, we always remained friends, as we eventually had one more son, and I volunteered to raise them both. After working type vacations, we went to downtown Lehi(when it was a good rural area) and watched a movie titled "The Three Amigos". On the way home, we openly discussed how the three of us were such good friends, we referred to our gang as "The Three Amigos", and used that terminology a great deal, but none of us wore a Sombrero, but this Daddy would often act the part of an Ass! Both boys grew up and Justin seemed to be gifted with an athletic ability, and he and best friend Paul Hansen were the stars of Little League and older basketball teams. Justin Wm. excelled in all sports and was given an opportunity to join a Sand Volleyball League as the kid getting the "get away" ball. The older players were good for Justin, until ESPN came along and had to let him go as one of their advertisers was a beer, and so those summer events for Justin were terminated. Troy had a gift for fixing things and without any education in that area, he was able to tear apart a tiller and rebuild it. He had a gift for that and although he worked on cars, he couldn't find the correct nitch. Both boys got a high school degree, but it was a big school full of gangs, so they missed out the friendships of a Juab High of yesteryear. Justin made the schools Junior High Basketball team, and I thought he was the new John Stockton, but recognized that making it on a big city team is like many of our politicians, who do things the wrong way, and only do things for their own wealth. Justin was a hard worker and eventually worked his way up the ladder to assist in the process of a new robot computer system which could replace a damaged heart valve. When I moved back to my hometown of Nephi, a natural separation of Dad and his sons came in, and with one on one talks with them, I could feel their tension within. I had a career in law enforcement that tries to help, and suggested that both seek that route, but it appeared the counseling only drained my work savings, and I honestly felt a Judge could not openly see the real issues. Justin was hurting within and I could feel a gasket was about to blow. Neither of his two marriages seemed to mesh, and at 10;31 P. M. on August 21, 2017, he took his own life, and on a repeated occasion, like others who have kids on the wrong path, my heart bleeds. And today, I will attend a funeral of a classmate father who tragically lost two kids. When Troys big brother abruptly terminated life on earth, Troy began to have various issues and now wanders the streets with no names, in search for himself. Although I am a Sinner, I know that God hears every prayer, both spoken and unspoken. When my grandfathers clock stopped ticking and never to go again, that woke me up, as I felt a terrible force in the universe, but felt that JJ and God must have made the Final Agreement. Me and my sons loved Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera Musical and Justin and I sold our Gold Wing motorcycle to fly to the City by the Bay and watch it. It's only fitting that I attached this writing! Although Justin is not with me, in a way he is and say Happy Heavenly Birthday Justin.

TODAY WAS THE FUNERAL OF SHANNON WHITE OF NEPHI, UTAH

Shannon White, once of downtown Monroe, Utah, quickly fit in just fine when his parents and the rest of the family arrived in Nephi, Utah in 1959. Shannon didn't have enough time to join his new hometown, as he graduated from South Sevier High School, and called up during the Viet Nam War, and stationed in Korea, which may still be one of the country's that has war's  we seem to still be fighting. As great leaders have come to know, regardless of your line of work, every job is a critical factor to a team working together. While in the U.S. Army, he was stationed in Korea, and trained to be a mechanic, and it seemed all along in his life, he could fix about anything. He got hooked up with Gayle Chamberlain who brought two kids into that marriage, and then they had two more to make it a nice and dandy happy home. When his parents moved to Nephi, it was of the begging from his friend-Steve Greenwood, who also was from Monroe, and bought into the Chevrolet Dealership near 7th North in Nephi, and when Whiz White joined Greenwoods, Shannon's younger brother-Hap, who was called  "Happy" because of his outgoing friendliness, became pals with Hal Jones- a next door neighbor to the Chevy dealership. And then another Jones boy become a great friend of Vard White, and they went on their JHS graduation trip to Idon'trecall, Nevada!  Steve Greenwood hired Hal to help with the Tire recapping Business, and Whiz White started selling the used cars for Steve, but always had their new Chey's in the showroom. Each time I spent time on the outside of my home, I could always count on Hap or Shannon to stop and chat as when they left the shop, they would take a turn around their work site. My mother needed a new roof on the 1886 Pioneer home on 7th, and she wanted Shannon White to do it, as he "is one I can trust". Each time I did a visit with Shannon, it was one of his outstanding internal gifts and that was his "duty to serve", and he did that with his all of his family, with his wife who needed constant care; to his country; his church; Lions Club; American Legion; his work with his brothers in "White Bros. Trailer's" and just a plain great guy. Although his death was tragic, his appearance in the Heavenly Clouds will be Bliss. Great Job On Earth Shannon!

I BELIEVE IN GUARDIAN ANGELS

I am not sure what prompted me to scribble my thoughts, but it could be after watching Jimmy Stewart in the TV movie of  "It's A Wonderful Life". That movie launched that actor into a variety of other Movies and it is hard to believe, at least for this old gruff, that renowned Christmas movie was made before I was even born, and that was the first time I had seen it. During commercial breaks, I recalled the time me and my two sons had the opportunity to be in the movie "Avenging Angel" with Charles Heston playing the role of Brigham Young. Then at another TV commercial, I thought of another made for TV Series which me and my two sons were in as well as our baseball team, in "Touched By An Angel". Although I wasn't impressed with the stars of that series, our baseball team was impressed as the team got a big bonus check for playing baseball, and they are still waiting for the phone call from the New York Yankees! Although many may describe me as a "Heathen",  I confess that may describe me, but I feel that my life  has been spared many times on earth just may have been spared time after time, and still not sure why. One thing I do believe in for sure- their is eternal life for those of us wandering around our short time here on earth, and to me, after several encounters with death itself, it is all a mere weekend test for all of us, and their are those who have known us in our times on earth or in a prior life form who are sent to be our "Guardian Angels" when we wander where it is dangerous. My brother Hal and I have fished in American Fork Canyon for more years of life than some of the local  "Hellions"  that speed up there, then speed down and no idea of how to enjoy the drive! To them, like we were once upon a time, speed is their only purpose of their need to go like a bat out of Hell, and their have been occasions I have traveled there alone on Thanksgiving Day to take in God's wondrous beauty of the earth and trees, and for answers such as what Jimmy Stewart felt while on the Bridge to take his own life as he thought his life was a waste as he mistakenly thought down about himself. But behold, along comes an Angel type who had not yet earned his Wings, as he needed to convince Mr. Bailey to see what his life would have been had he never lived. When I went to American Fork Canyon to fish one day, I parked by what my brother had called "The Rock" which was a golden place to catch an unsuspecting German Brown and where Hal should have been killed after being swept down the raging river. The wind was blowing hard that day and I could hear the breaking of limb's as I parked. Just before I got out to send the wiggly worm on to the hook, I felt the presence of others on my right shoulder, and it was an intense knowledge that I needed to get the Hell out of there and followed that feeling, gunning in down like the Hellions I had called the youngins. The next week, my brother and I parked at the same place to fish and told him of my experience and low and behold there was a giant tree that had fell down right where my life had been spared. To me, that was pure knowledge that Guardian Angels prompted me, and those Guardian Angels must have came in droves like a four alarm fire, as I got down where the sudden wind came up and felt it was not yet my time. Then other times, I have sat at my desk at home and for some odd reasons, I stack old artifact's and photos in piles and the same photo or journal would fall on the floor in front of me and I would routinely pick it up time after time. Once was a photo of my great Uncle Hy Tolley who had the vocabulary of J. Golden Kimball, who was a swearing General Authority of the LDS Church. When Uncle Hy's Photo on his horse fell for the last time, I could feel his presence above my right shoulder and the "no-word" words he shouted to my heart or dead brain was "For Hell's sake, you are the only one that knows my history, now Dam it, write it" and I did. I finally felt it as if he was really there. To me, it doesn't matter if you are a saint or sinner, their is mystical and Magical thing on earth that we often can't see or hear, but miracles do happen and angelic beings are sent to help us through those things, but we have to be in a position to accept those things we don't fully understand. If I was one of those Pioneers coming across the Plains with Brigham Young, and I asked him to stop a minute, so I could call my loved ones back in the British Isle's, he would have kicked me out of the Mormon Faith, for picking up a small piece of metal out of my Bibs and talking to folks thousands of miles away. Nowadays, it is a given, but not back in those "Kick that son of the Devil" out of my presence. My final advice is similar to what our Baseball Little League Coach-Craig Scilanno would often say "Never Ever Give Up" before he collapsed on the field at 38, and sadly died leaving a son and pregnant wife. And my CPR didn't bring him back, and both my sons never recovered from that nor have I. We all have Angels that just may have not received their wings yet. So Never Ever Give Up.

NO SURE WHY, BUT ITS TEN YEARS OF DOING HISTORY BLOGS, WE BROKE OUR RECORD

Once upon time, my 4th grade history teacher-Earl Bowles had several teacher to student chats, as I had a strong desire to be the clown of the class, and when Robert Painter came by my house 6 years ago, he couldn't understand why I had a cane and hobbling along to get back home. I tried to fumble the words that the Politician's were trying to kill me, as it was after I got the "One shot does it all". I got the Chinese Shot as the 6 County Government held a meeting in Nephi with various government employees saying we had better comply or "Else". I had absolute belief it was a hoax, but after falling down three times while walking up my driveway, and having three brain concussion, I somehow survived, and tried to tell that to Robert, and not really knowing how serious it was with "brain damage", Robert responded as to how I knew he would said "Jones, we have been friends since the 4th Grade, and you have always had brain damage". I tried to laugh, but the only thing that happened was other body noise occurred. Anyway, after the teacher disciplined me, he started to chat about what he was forced to do fighting Nazi's during WW T'wo. From that day on, I have a love for history, and asked my folks if I could save and store the generation's of journals, letters and artifacts going back to Pioneer Days, which included papers belonging to the LDS General Authorities. I buried most of it until I retired ten years ago, then retrieved it and wrote the history. The blog now has 11,104 hits during December, and approaching 1.3 million hits from around the world, but slowing down, as arthritis is not only up and down  my spine, but in my typing fingers, so  slowed. My mother was a Typing Whiz her career, and taught me when I was 12. I fought her at first, saying that is only for girls. She then said, you will have time for the girls, and when you get older, even boys will have to type! She was right, as Mother and Fathers Know Best. And by the way, I took Church Items to LDS HQ, I had to retell the story several times, and finally said I will tell it One More Time, so get your ducks in a row. That is when an Apostle showed up and could see it was the Church Journal for Keeping Tithes in the Northville Church, which when in those days wasn't in cash, but sacks of grain or barley. End of Story.