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This is the first of a series about the late Andrews resident Dana Jones.
The people of Cherokee County lost their biggest fan and loyal friend when Dana Jones passed away on Feb. 19, 2025. For those of you who did not know him personally, you missed his kindness and concern, and his way of comforting everyone around him. Simply put, he was a good man.
Dana had an interesting life, and he sat down with me at his home for an interview many years ago, when his children were small.
Dana was raised in a two-story farmhouse that stood beneath the shade of a century oak. The old house still stands on Colvard Avenue, and it reminds us of a time that many long for today.
The porch that was once scattered with children, a kitchen filled with the aroma of pan-fried chicken and banana pudding, old iron bedsteads with feather mattresses draped with clean crisp sheets and handmade quilts, pieced by loving hands. These were the memories of his childhood and the grandparents who raised him.
He was born Dec. 31, 1947, to Betty Jeanette Jones. She was 18 years old, beautiful and a single parent. Dana was born breach and not breathing, but Artie McConnell resuscitated him, and as the old-timers say, “He was born feet first and has been running ever since.” A few years later, Jeanette married Bill Tatham, and they had five children, Della, Mack, Johnny and Jamie.
Thomas Jefferson Jones and Anna Lenora Griffith Jones were Dana’s grandparents, and they adored him. Even when his mother married and moved from the old homeplace, Dana stayed behind rather than suffer the separation of the two people he loved the most.
Like most families, life in this valley was not easy. Daylight was spent with hard work. You had to work in the garden, and can or dry enough food to last you through the long winters.
“We were very poor, but we didn’t know it,” Dana laughed. “I remember my grandmother making me shirts out of flour sacks, and she sewed aprons out of flour sacks, too, and I would take them around town and sell them so we would have some Christmas money.”
Dana explained that Purel Miller would come by in the fall and kill two hogs for them, which meant that his grandparents would have to preserve the meat. “My grandmother would can the sausage and the cracklins, and my grandfather would salt down the hams and the side meat, then hang it in the smokehouse.
Dana said he was 15 years old when his grandfather died and he remembered it like it was yesterday. “I was working at the Dairy Whip, and Ronnie Hembree came to get me and said that Tom needs you to come home right away, he is sick and they sent for the doctor. So, I jumped on my bicycle and took off, and when I got there, Dr. Rodda was checking him, but he died in just a few minutes, his heart burst. The last thing he said to me was, ‘Take care of your Granny.’”
Dana started to school in 1954, and his first-grade teacher was Mrs. Rufty. He climbed the ladder of education in the Andrews School System, and his goal was to excel in sports – and he did. He played football under coach Hugh “PeeWee” Hamilton.
“Andrews had winning teams in those days,” said Dana. “In the three years that I played, we lost one game and tied one with Robbinsville. Coach Hamilton was tough, the practices were very intense, we practiced so hard that the game was a relief,” explained Dana. “But every player had a tremendous amount of respect for coach Hamilton, and his word was the rule of the day. He had a presence in the company of his team that radiated respect.”
Dana remembered many things about his hometown and said, “A lot has changed since I was growing up, and the economy used to be really good in Andrews.”
He talked about the drive-in theatre, Arthur Watkins store, and “Chunk” Love’s pool room, where all the guys hung out.
“I never got good at shooting pool, he said. (And Dana’s son, Thomas, confirmed the fact that he has not improved on the game over time, either.)
As Dana sat reminiscing, one could almost imagine P.B. Ferebee, banker, walking slowly through town with his hands clasped behind his back, looking in the store windows as he made his way down the street.
Part two will be continued in two weeks.
Kandy Barnard is a columnist for the Cherokee Scout. To talk about the Andrews Valley, call her at 828-361-3268 or email kandybarnard@gmail.com.