Roy Exum
I guess for about as long as I've lived I've heard stories about Charlie Jones. While it is neither right nor fitting to speak ill of the dead, let me say up front that I don't give a hoot if even one is true. All that matters in life is how you finish and Charlie finished strong.
My deal with him goes back to the early '60s, when I'd hook up with some older girl who already had her driver's license, and we'd skip a class or two at City High School in order to sneak over to Nikki's Drive-In on Cherokee Boulevard.
We'd be eating those ever-fabulous cheeseburgers, and slopping ketchup all over a stack of the best onion rings in America, when Mr. Jones would holler from behind the counter, "Dive for cover!" This meant, of course, that either a teacher or a cop or the truancy officer was getting ready to do a slow pass-by.
We'd dive in the respective restrooms, trembling until we heard the coast was clear, then come back out and finish the delectable feast. It was a big deal, particularly if you had a lot of pimples and the driver was real good-looking, so "Mr. Jones" endeared himself to me from the very get-go.
The trouble was, I was hanging around the newspaper all the time and the old reporters, who loved listening to the constant stream of how I'd get caught during my adventures, would always raise an eye when they heard I was cutting up at Nikki's because that's where a rather lively crowd would sometimes hang out.
When I say "lively" read "cross-bar hotel." Back in the day, there were some with jail-house tattoos that would drop by and see Charlie and the word I got, being connected like I am, was that he helped countless ex-cons get back on their feet flipping burgers and washing dishes.
While Dr. Bill Dudley will mention nary a word of things like this when he presides over Charlie's funeral today, the long-standing rumors were that my beloved "Mr. Jones" had met some of them "on the inside," if you know what I mean. Heck, I could've cared less because Robin Hood and Jesse James will always be among the heroes in my heart, too. I'm a sport, I tell you.
One story is that once a bunch of parking meters and pay phones down in Atlanta were somehow ... er, damaged and Charlie was caught driving a car down the middle of Peachtree that looked as though it was about to buckle in half. This was strangely due to the fact there was about $70,000 in nickels, dimes and quarters piled in the trunk. Again, that's just a story I once heard.
You see, I have eaten in Nikki's for years and I have watched Charlie Jones "finish." I've seen him give away more candy bars, Lifesavers and Reece's Cups to little kids than Santa Claus. I've also spied him discreetly pick up a poor guy's tab, and tell his best friends they couldn't just sit and drink Falstaff, that they had to eat because his diner was for families.
His wife, "Miss June," probably knows more children's names than most school principals. I know mine look at her with the same adoration they reserve for their grandmothers. The children, Charlie and Jim, are also absolute blessings. That said, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, as innocent as it may well be.
I remember once when one of them, or maybe it was just somebody who looked like one of the boys, "escaped" Erlanger on a cold winter's night and stopped by a bar for a little "pop" on the way home. Wearing nothing but a hospital gown, he stood there flapping and enjoyed his refreshment. I happened to be sitting nearby and the lovely I was with gushed, "Can you believe that?"
I laughed and nodded my head, "Honey, what you're looking at is style, I'm telling you, that's style! That's Charlie Jones' boy and to know him is to love him!" Come to think of it, since there were no pockets in his hospital-issued "serape" I now recall he may have put the drink on my tab.
Whatever, it doesn't matter, any more than the countless stories and legendary exploits and glee-filled days in Charlie's glorious life. All that matters is that when my beloved Charlie hit heaven's gate on Sunday "the coast was clear." He's with his Savior. I know that for fact because late one afternoon we talked a little bit about it.
Believe me, when he got to heaven Charlie Jones had made sure he would never have to step aside for anybody. That is a very true story and today, as he is laid to rest, I will love him most for that.
royexum@aol.com
Charlie Jones