A Tribute to Ronnie Jones

Mr. Ronnie,

It may seem odd for me to be writing this piece. Afterall, I am neither Scott, nor Mike, nor Marc. I am Ryan. Yet, when I heard the news of your passing, something vibrated inside me and split my interior world. On the one hand I felt a profound pull toward Marc and Debbie and everything they mean to me, to be there for both—not through social media condolences but in presence. On the other hand, when I saw your picture and face, some inexplicable activation took place and salty tears erupted from some kind of wellspring deep inside. It took me time to sit with, process, and name what it was I had experienced…..

I started at the outer layer of ‘fond memories’, those childhood moments that involve play, adventure, and discovery. As Jonathan Jeffress and I corresponded, the Ronnie known to us Little Oak Elementary school boys had a paralyzing secret weapon that could alter human behavior. It was known as ‘The Claw’. When Ronnie’s hand would be made visible—as if it had eyes of its own—and slowly suffocate time until finally it would strike in the form of a tickle so vicious that breathing itself nearly stopped—laughter traveling at the speed of light.

After reflecting on various other memories—fishing trips, Mike’s half-pipe skate ramp in the backyard (or better yet, the computer you got him in the 7th grade that altered his life trajectory), watching you fix a three wheeler or lawn-mower—i traversed past ‘fond memories’ and hit a chamber where only you and I resided: the piece of you that lives in me still today. As if there somehow were seeds of meaning that were covertly planted in my undeveloped mind all these years ago —completely unbeknownst to me—taking root in my unconscious, only now available for interrogation, naming, and speaking after all these years.

The first seed I have named ‘connection with Self’. On the surface, this seems esoteric, but I am deeply persuaded this is one of the most important crisis facing men today: dis-connection from our Self. As I was growing up, I didnt even have the vocabulary to describe this concept….however, when I reach past ‘fond memories’ and grab hold of the essence of who you are Ronnie: You are a man that is deeply and profoundly connected to yourself. This speaks of a kind of integrity that transcends morals, beliefs, and how we relate to others…to have integrity is to be integrated in ones interior life. This integration I speak of manifested itself in how I experienced your presence: you were always your Self. You never seemed influenced by the shallow vices of status, power, or smug certitude. You followed your own path—as each of your children have followed theirs. Which brings me to the second seed…..

How can I describe this without sounding foolish? ‘Presence as containment’ are the only words I can muster to describe the second seed. If I imagine your presence as a sphere, and those within partake of relatioship with you, there is containment of some kind of oxygen we ingest. Only this oxygen is different: it invites us to each be who we are without pretense. It creates a safe space to unmask ourselves and participate in relationship without falsehood—with no transactionality or hidden motive tainting the air. I never realized this until now, but each encounter with you Ronnie there was always an unspoken invitation to just BE. To experience the outdoors in wonder. To participate in the fullness of the swamps, the Gulf, or invite my mischevous college friends to stay over at the Kingspoint house while we embarked on Mardi Gras adventure. This ‘presence as containment’ seed had not just life giving freedom within it, but there were boundaries enforced. You had a penchant for sniffing out bullshit and always pulling us aside to admonish any ill-conceived shenanigans we may or may not have conceived of up until that point.

And this brings me to the last seed…the kernel, the core, and the essence of what it means to love. To give of one’s Self—their resources, their time, to shoulder adversity alongside another in the same vein and spirit as ‘Greater love has no one than this: that he lay down his life for another’. I dont know the inner workings of your family dynamics, but I what I do know is that your dependability, reliability, and willingness to be called upon speak of a sacrificial and expansive love the world desperately needs more of. This is not a love born from sentiment, but from commitment. From embodiment. It is a kind of love the builds the foundation of a legacy…beneath ‘fond memories’ and even beneath presence. You live inside each of us now Ronnie, through not just memories of interactions, but through Encounter. The question to now ask is this: Will we clean out the ‘garage’ hidden inside our interior world and make room for you to dwell? If so, there is a fixing, a mending, a creation that you and The Wounded Healer—together—can form in each of us. You are beloved Ronnie Jones. Thank you for giving me the gift of sharing a piece of your heart in this lifetime through both word and deed. I cannot imagine Mike’s life without that computer you somehow managed to get him…years before technology would radically change the world. And I cannot imagine a version of Marc that was coerced, pressured, cajoled, or indirectly guided to follow a ‘corporate stiff’ path of monotany and petty routine. You created and gave space for each of your offspring to find their path and discover their Self and for that—now more than ever—you are not just a role model, but a sojourner that loved deeply and fiercely while living wisely…and authentically.

Ryan