John Henry JONES and his wife Florence Daisy DAY were married at the Birmingham Registry Office on 19 Dec 1915. They emigrated to Australia mid-1922 with their 18 month old daughter. Their passport indicates they arrived in Port of Adelaide 4 Oct 1922 and their second daughter Constance (Connie) Frances was born in Carlton, Melbourne on the 23rd Oct 1922. Connie died 4 months later in the following February. A third daughter Doris Day JONES was born 14 Nov 1923 and she worked for Kodak and lived in England for a time, never marrying and dying in 1980. In 1938 Jack and Flo bought a house at 6 Donald St Brunswick from which they never moved. Their first daughter married and had three children - and I am one of seven grandchildren.
John Henry (or Jacky as he was known) was born in Birmingham 7 Sep 1890 to Joseph Oscar JONES, a bricklayer and Maria WILKES, in 1901 a pen marker.
He learnt the trade of silver-smithing, did a stint in the armed forces in Northern Ireland (pre WW1) and fought in the first world war attaining rank of Sgt-Major. Reported missing in action, he turned up at home 3 weeks later, sat down and asked his wife to put the kettle on - then he reported and went back to war. When the second war started, he lied about his age and tried to sign up, saying it wasn't fair that only young men should go. But they could tell from his teeth that he had been mustard-gassed in the first world war and refused him.
In Melbourne he became involved in the Richmond Football Club, serving on the committee in the 60s and 70s. During the 70s he gave each of his great-grandsons a match ball, and in my case brought it around and put it through his grandson's window. Said grandson rang his mother to tell her that her father and grandson had broken a window. She corrected him: "your grandfather and your son". One year, a dignitary from England was to open the Grand Final and met both teams and their committees on the field before the match started. When he got to Jacky, they recognised each other as Jacky was this colonel's Sergeant-Major and the two of them were the only survivors from several regiments. They chatted for some time while the assembled crowd waited, finally realizing they were holding up the game.
Jacky was a character. He learnt to drive at the ripe old age of ?67 and bought a car. Keeping in mind that he was 30 years old when the Model T Ford was released, his driving attitude was quite unique. He had a theory (to be honest, I think tongue-in-cheek) that since intersections were the most dangerous part of the road, you must drive through them as fast as possible. He also took some rules quite literally: "Stop at red lights" meant that if the light was red you don't go through the intersection. What did Jacky do? He went around the intersection - the best example being a left turn across the footpath from Burke Rd. southbound into Canterbury Rd. through the crowd coming out of church one Sunday morning.
As a silver-smith for Stokes in Melbourne, he was integral to the operation of the workshop (if he didn't show for work, the place stopped) and in all his years he didn't miss a single day at work. When he fell and broke his hip (while opening/closing the garage door) he decided his driving days were over. He took the car down to the young mechanic who'd done a good job of looking after it and handed him the keys (the mechanic was ecstatic once he'd realised that Jacky was giving him the car rather than asking him to sell it).
He retained his sense of humour and roguishness into his later years. His grandson was called upon to help find him when he went missing from his nursing home in Blyth St. Brunswick. Knowing his grandfather, he found Jacky in the local pub, having a beer, chatting to the locals and putting a few bets on. Invariably when asked by the nurses how he felt, he'd reply "with my hands". He died aged 93 in Brunswick on 28 Apr 1984.