<BGSOUND SRC="shipbell.wav"> Click here for lyrics. The purpose for this slight detour is so that I could include this special musical tribute to my father. ABOUT MY COAUTHOR My father, Ben Tidwell Jones, was born August 16, 1911 in Andrews, North Carolina. He was the youngest of the ten children of Joseph Walker Cardwell Jones and Margaret Elizabeth Derreberry. His father died when he was only four years old leaving the task of raising a large family to his mother and his oldest brother John. John, affectionately known as "Big John," lost an arm while working in the tanning extract plant before his father died. He worked long hours for many years as a night watchman to provide for the family. Margaret was a strong woman and with the help of the older children she was able to keep the family strong. The family lived in or near Andrews all their life and quite a few Joneses remain in the area today. Dad graduated from Andrews High School in 1931. He played football there the first two years they had a football program. I can remember some stories he related of them playing against the Indians and how rough they were. He joined the Navy shortly after graduating. He was not yet twenty one and his mother would not sign his application. A girl friend signed his mother's signature and a lawyer, who knew he needed help, notarized it for him. His mother knew that he was up to something and not surprised. Still, Dad never told her what he had done. His love for his family and the mountains in which he was raised brought him home to visit many times over the years. Except for a brief stay in 1953 after retiring from the Navy it was never to be permanent. Naval aviation was growing when he enlisted and he found himself in the aircraft maintenance field. The Navy took him many places during his enlistment. It was while stationed at Pensacola NAS, Florida that he met my mother, Jessie Mason Baker. They met at a Halloween dance at Sander's Beach and were married July 3, 1940. Two years later I was born, the oldest of six children born over a 21 year period. The war had begun and he was transferred to Norfolk, Virginia. He was safely out of harm's way, but not very happy about the situation. Wanting to be more directly involved in the war, he volunteered for duty aboard an aircraft carrier. He spent the remainder of the war in the Pacific, serving on several different carriers. The high point of his Navy career came on 2 September 1945 (Tokyo Time). He was with Torpedo Squadron Sixteen as they flew over the USS Missouri when the Japanese were signing a formal surrender. After returning to the States he made several stops along the East coast before going to Millington, Tennessee. He was assigned to the Naval Air Technical Training Center as an instructor/supervisor in the Advanced Jet Engine School. He retired there after 22 years of military service. Dad then went to work for the Lockheed Corporation in Marietta, Georgia. While there he was one of several people who were responsible for naming the new C130 cargo plane the "Hercules." He spent two years there before going to work for the Civil Service at Eglin AFB, Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. He made Gulf Breeze our home, a small town across the bay from Pensacola and about 40 miles from Eglin. He retired from Civil Service after 18 years in 1972 giving him a total of forty years of federal service. My father loved to fish. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of the fishing trips I was able to accompany him. I can remember the successful and the unsuccessful trips equally, but the good ones are my favorite of course. On one occasion I am sure he wanted to throw me out of the boat, and he has been quoted as saying so. We were using red roaches to catch bream and he had baited my hook for me the first few times. By the age of eight I had hooked many worms, but never a roach. I knew my father well enough to know my turn to bait the hook was coming soon and I was dreading it. When it came I reached my hand into the carton very carefully. A roach ran up my arm and suddenly roaches were everywhere. I have never seen him move that fast, trying to recover as many as he could. He was very patient with me, but I have never heard the end of that story and I am glad! Dad always enjoyed working with the Cub Scouts and the Boy Scouts. He was a good organizer and started many new groups. He was always actively involved as a leader and remained involved long after my brothers and I were grown. He always seemed to enjoy talking about our family history. He often related bits of information passed along from older relatives. I was always interested too, but it was not until 1978 that we became actively involved in our genealogy. I am told, by a very reliable source, that "there is a time and place for everything under the sun." For us it truly became a time for genealogy. The last thirteen years have been some of the most enjoyable and rewarding years of my life. Tracing ones roots can also be frustrating. It is important to have someone with whom to share the highs and lows and without this team work we would not have made it this far. Only the years have slowed my father's involvement, but he gives in grudgingly. I am proud to have been a part of his life, and especially to have shared the experiences of the last thirteen years. by Ron Jones Ben Tidwell Jones & Margaret Derreberry Jones This photo is dated 1954 and was taken in front of my Grandmother's house on Happy Top, Andrews, NC - Ron Jones - April 2001 My father died 30 November 1992 after a five year struggle with cancer. It was because of his illness that I worked so hard to get this book finished in time for him to see it. Forest Lawn CemeteryGulf Breeze, Santa Rosa Co., FL [ See his 1979 interview with Grandson Ronnie. ] [Return to the "Derreberrys........ " page]
My father, Ben Tidwell Jones, was born August 16, 1911 in Andrews, North Carolina. He was the youngest of the ten children of Joseph Walker Cardwell Jones and Margaret Elizabeth Derreberry. His father died when he was only four years old leaving the task of raising a large family to his mother and his oldest brother John. John, affectionately known as "Big John," lost an arm while working in the tanning extract plant before his father died. He worked long hours for many years as a night watchman to provide for the family. Margaret was a strong woman and with the help of the older children she was able to keep the family strong. The family lived in or near Andrews all their life and quite a few Joneses remain in the area today.
Dad graduated from Andrews High School in 1931. He played football there the first two years they had a football program. I can remember some stories he related of them playing against the Indians and how rough they were. He joined the Navy shortly after graduating. He was not yet twenty one and his mother would not sign his application. A girl friend signed his mother's signature and a lawyer, who knew he needed help, notarized it for him. His mother knew that he was up to something and not surprised. Still, Dad never told her what he had done. His love for his family and the mountains in which he was raised brought him home to visit many times over the years. Except for a brief stay in 1953 after retiring from the Navy it was never to be permanent.
Naval aviation was growing when he enlisted and he found himself in the aircraft maintenance field. The Navy took him many places during his enlistment. It was while stationed at Pensacola NAS, Florida that he met my mother, Jessie Mason Baker. They met at a Halloween dance at Sander's Beach and were married July 3, 1940. Two years later I was born, the oldest of six children born over a 21 year period. The war had begun and he was transferred to Norfolk, Virginia. He was safely out of harm's way, but not very happy about the situation. Wanting to be more directly involved in the war, he volunteered for duty aboard an aircraft carrier. He spent the remainder of the war in the Pacific, serving on several different carriers. The high point of his Navy career came on 2 September 1945 (Tokyo Time). He was with Torpedo Squadron Sixteen as they flew over the USS Missouri when the Japanese were signing a formal surrender. After returning to the States he made several stops along the East coast before going to Millington, Tennessee. He was assigned to the Naval Air Technical Training Center as an instructor/supervisor in the Advanced Jet Engine School. He retired there after 22 years of military service.
Dad then went to work for the Lockheed Corporation in Marietta, Georgia. While there he was one of several people who were responsible for naming the new C130 cargo plane the "Hercules." He spent two years there before going to work for the Civil Service at Eglin AFB, Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. He made Gulf Breeze our home, a small town across the bay from Pensacola and about 40 miles from Eglin. He retired from Civil Service after 18 years in 1972 giving him a total of forty years of federal service.
My father loved to fish. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of the fishing trips I was able to accompany him. I can remember the successful and the unsuccessful trips equally, but the good ones are my favorite of course. On one occasion I am sure he wanted to throw me out of the boat, and he has been quoted as saying so. We were using red roaches to catch bream and he had baited my hook for me the first few times. By the age of eight I had hooked many worms, but never a roach. I knew my father well enough to know my turn to bait the hook was coming soon and I was dreading it. When it came I reached my hand into the carton very carefully. A roach ran up my arm and suddenly roaches were everywhere. I have never seen him move that fast, trying to recover as many as he could. He was very patient with me, but I have never heard the end of that story and I am glad!
Dad always enjoyed working with the Cub Scouts and the Boy Scouts. He was a good organizer and started many new groups. He was always actively involved as a leader and remained involved long after my brothers and I were grown.
He always seemed to enjoy talking about our family history. He often related bits of information passed along from older relatives. I was always interested too, but it was not until 1978 that we became actively involved in our genealogy. I am told, by a very reliable source, that "there is a time and place for everything under the sun." For us it truly became a time for genealogy. The last thirteen years have been some of the most enjoyable and rewarding years of my life. Tracing ones roots can also be frustrating. It is important to have someone with whom to share the highs and lows and without this team work we would not have made it this far. Only the years have slowed my father's involvement, but he gives in grudgingly. I am proud to have been a part of his life, and especially to have shared the experiences of the last thirteen years.
Ben Tidwell Jones & Margaret Derreberry Jones
This photo is dated 1954 and was taken in front of my Grandmother's house on Happy Top, Andrews, NC - Ron Jones - April 2001
My father died 30 November 1992 after a five year struggle with cancer. It was because of his illness that I worked so hard to get this book finished in time for him to see it.