Laurie Louise Jones, 95, lived as long as she possibly could without a lot of undue suffering and passed away Tuesday, August 20, 2013. She was kind and thoughtful and loved by everyone. She fed the birds and squirrels outside her patio door and thought fondly of all the cats and dogs in her life...Bonnie, Bouncer, Blue, Buddy, Blackcot, Buzz and the Chihuahuas, Chico, Missy and Isaac. Oh, and Wojo, Ike, Lipertick, Maryanne, Cinderella, Duke, Duchess...the list is endless.
She grew up in Bonnie Acres, Mich. (which isn't even on a map anymore). On June 20, 1941, she married Gerard W. Jones because he made her laugh. They lived in Royal Oak, Mich., had four kids, two boys and two girls, and moved to San Mateo, Calif. in 1960. In 1964 the family moved to Ashland where she spent the rest of her life.
She was a reporter and feature writer for the Ashland Daily Tidings back when Ed Rountree, not Rupert Murdoch, owned the paper. In 1973 she went to work for Ashland High School, starting in the social sciences resource center and continuing on as office manager and Snuff's secretary. She loved making her world beautiful. She preferred people who didn't use bad words or incorrect grammar but always saw the best in others. She loved little babies and toddlers and people who seemed to need help. She once told Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead that his mother must be proud of him. She was the shining star at the center of our universe. She was a proud liberal and a lifelong democrat who admired Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton (although Hillary's prose got a tad pedantic at times). She didn't think much of cruelty, inhumanity, capitalist greed, conservatism couched as libertarianism, religious exclusivity or guys like Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly - although she'd happily share her thoughts with either of them over a cup of tea. She didn't believe in the God of any particular religion but loved the baby Jesus at Christmas and sang the song that goes, "Jesus loves me, this I know." She sang lots of songs nobody ever heard of like "Hello Central, Give me Heaven, because I know my Mother's there." Most crossword puzzles were too easy. The ones she couldn't finish were stupid. She wished everyone would write more letters to each other and send them through the mail so they would show up in a real mailbox. Late at night she listened to KGO. For the past few months she ate mainly tomato soup, Ensure, and fudgesicles but before that there was nothing she liked better than creamy noodles and the occasional fudge and banana sandwich. Around Easter she ate way too many Peeps. She used to take long walks with her grandchildren up into the watershed until too many big houses got in the way. She was a nice lady. Her husband was a nice man. "I know he's a nice man, but what does he do for a living?" "He's an ice man." There was some kind of pragmatic magicalness about her that nobody ever questioned.
She was preceded in death by her husband, Gerard, and everyone else her age. She leaves behind her sister, Paula Anderson; children, Gerard, Nicole, Reilly, and Laurie; grandchildren, Wendi, Myles, Marya, Mandy, Evan, Ian, Bucky, Maggie and Owen; and lots of great-grandchildren, including Jack Murphy who loves to see his name in the newspaper.
There will be a memorial service at 1:00 p.m. Sunday, August 25, 2013 at Pioneer Hall in Lithia Park, followed by inurnment at Scenic Hills Cemetery at 4:00 p.m.
The family asks that in lieu of gifts or flowers, you feed your birds and squirrels, plant pretty flowers and shrubs and trees everywhere, and write real letters to each other every now and again.
That's all she wrote.