James "Jim" Talmadge Jones Jr.

This week I lost my father, James Talmadge Jones, Jr. Jim to many, Jimmy to some. He passed away peacefully in our home with my mom and I by his side as he took his final breaths on earth. He was 65 and still the most handsome man I have ever known.

Born in Tampa, Florida in 1959 to James Talmadge Jones, Sr. and Martha Marie Ross, Dad grew up a “military brat”, along with his sisters Jamie and Tammy, thanks to their father’s Air Force career. Moving every 1-2 years most of his young life, dad became resilient, outgoing and possibly the most charismatic human to ever walk this planet. His quiet confidence, undeniable talent and kind spirit ensured he made friends everywhere he went.

A talented athlete, dad played basketball, baseball, tennis and football throughout his high school and college years. And he was great at all of them. Star of the football team, basketball point guard, championship tennis player, he really could do it all. When it was time for college, despite being recruited to play baseball by Duke and several others, his heart was set on Auburn football (Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Charles might have had something to do with that!). During his time there, he walked on as a quarterback (#17) and became the offensive coordinator for the JV team, the youngest coordinator in school history.

Beyond athletics, Dad had the ability to take up and be excellent at just about anything he ever tried. From oil painting to designing cars to drumming in a soul band, he had the gift of pure confidence and lightness of being that made everything seem effortless. He joined Lambda Chi Alpha his final year at Auburn after most of his friends had graduated. As dad would tell it, he was on the why-leave-because-this-is-so-fun-seven-year undergraduate plan long before “Van Wilder” made it famous. Boundless joy, so him. Like he would continue to do throughout his life, he took on this new chapter with enthusiasm and positivity and ended up with some of the greatest friends and memories of his life. Of all the fun he had there, he was most proud of their charity fundraisers and volunteer efforts to support underprivileged children, a cause he would continue to champion the rest of his life.

During my childhood, dad became a tennis coach, working initially in country clubs and athletic centers before starting his own business teaching tennis fundamentals to children of all ages. His limitless patience and passion for the sport helped make it a success. He was a USPTA P1 certified pro, achieving this highest-possible rating on the first try. More importantly, to this day, former students come up to me and tell me about the impact dad had on their lives. What they remember most is that he believed in them, listened to them and made them feel seen in a way that stayed with them long after the tennis lessons were over. He also made sure I had a racquet in my hand by age three and remained my favorite tennis coach and hitting partner the rest of my life.

To know my dad was to love him. Truly selfless and with an endless compassion for others, no matter how ill or how hard things were in his life, he never complained and never stopped asking people about their day, their lives. He gave people grace because as he put it “most people are just trying to make it”. Legendary amongst my friends, dad became a source of wisdom to all of us growing up. Unlike most adults, dad actually listened to us. It did not matter how seemingly silly our angst was, to him, there was always time to listen without judgment, to ease our troubles with a laugh and often a killer lesson that cut to the very core of not just our current problem but life itself. His unpretentious manner belied a depth unlike anything I have known. He truly saw people, the humanity inside each of us, in a way that was at times prophetic. A mentor to many, from his students to his nieces and nephews, to me and to my friends, he spoke in plain and memorable truths that led us to begin speaking in “Jimisms” when referring to all of the treasured lessons he gave us.

When he received his initial diagnosis, he was told he would be lucky to live 3-6 months. He ended up living over three years. During that time, he gave me the gift of allowing me to care for him as we made many more precious memories together. He showed me what true courage was as he faced these last, most harrowing, years with a combination of grit, humor and faith that I will never forget. Tough as nails and with a heart of pure gold. He taught me to see the world with childlike wonder and remain in awe of the beautiful gift of life. Being his daughter has been the honor of my life. I will spend the rest of mine carrying him in my heart and striving to embody his courageous selflessness, kindness and strength of spirit.

In lieu of flowers, please consider donating in dad’s honor to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.