Jones of Old Lincoln (Epilogue, page 2 of 3)


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***

Back in 1966, I had received the history medal for the graduating class at Central High. Before that, in May of '63 I had served as a Page in the U.S. House of Representatives, appointed by Mr. Jones' successor, Congressman Joe L. Evins. I have always suspected Mr. Evins' office did faulty research and thought I was one of the Mansfields who mattered in the county power structure. We were the other branch. Our aspirations were survival and salvation, not prominence and power.

My exposure to the United States Congress and Washington, D.C., that magical May when I was thirteen, had infected me with a lifetime interest in history, politics, and ideas. I suppose my being the recipient of that history medal in '66 had been a commission of sorts for me to do something that would reckon with my home county's history. I had, and it was at the publisher's. It surely was not dry history. Actually, it may be more alive than I can stand.

***

As I made my way past the old and new gravestones to the high ground, up against West Washington Avenue, I noticed a nice, big, shiny, red, Dodge Ram truck parked underneath the ancient oak tree near Mr. Jones' grave. I took note of the license plate-Texas-as I stopped behind it. Then I saw him as he moved from behind Mr. Jones' stone. Tall and big with a swarthy completion he was about my age with gray hair cut in an old fashioned flat top. He came toward me as I got out of my truck.

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