With the very best teachers, it is not just what they taught, it is how they taught us. On the big lecture days, Ron Jones’ American history class became as much theater as it was classroom. He would begin behind the podium that bore a student-painted caricature of him, and then start walking about the classroom – his stage – wielding his omnipresent pointer as punctuation, pausing dramatically, using the blackboard for an occasional illustration.
History was not a dry subject for his students; it was a series of stories about the great and the small that taught us the grand sweep of history. We rode with Teddy Roosevelt. We were spectators to an obscure civil war general’s death as Ron’s hands mimed the gentle fall of the peach blossoms. We bore witness to the Triangle shirt factory fire. It was somehow a mixture of lecture and comedy monologue. We laughed. We learned. We listened to rock and roll. And we developed an interest in history and government that made us better citizens. We knew that all students should have a Mr. Jones to teach them, but there was just the one.
Ronald Kincaid Jones was born in Oxnard, California on July 26, 1933, to Charles and Geneva Jones of Hermosa Beach. His father was superintendent of schools; his mother, a homemaker. At the age of fifteen, tall for his age, he began sneaking into Santa Anita racetrack to watch the thoroughbreds run, fostering a lifelong passion for the sport. He graduated from Whittier College, then served two years in the US Army in Alaska as the Korean War was winding down; he received his teaching degree from his beloved UCLA. In 1961, lucky for all of us who knew him, he discovered Coronado, and the students of CHS soon discovered him.
Ron’s home was a gathering place. Teachers and ex-students got together for Friday afternoon darts, for bridge, for Charger games, for scrabble, for the occasional gourmet meal. The liquor flowed, the conversation was eclectic, varying from mundane to profound, and sometimes heated, but always entertaining.
The highlight each year came on the first Saturday in May, when RK held his annual Kentucky Derby party, attended by his colleagues, his ex-students and their families. For some of us, it was a mini-reunion. There were horseshoes and other games. He had in-house betting. We tasted our first mint juleps. We designated drivers.
When it came, Ron’s decline thankfully was short. His mind and body began to fail in the summer. As he neared the end, he declined both medication and nutrition. Fittingly, on the morning of November 3rd, as his beloved thoroughbreds ran at Del Mar on his favorite weekend of the year, Breeder’s Cup, Ron Jones passed quietly into history. He is survived by his friends and by his teaching legacy.
RIP Mr. Jones….Was a student of his during my Junior year at CHS. Enjoyed his classes very much.
Ron was a big influence on me. I took his history class my junior year. He was funny, approachable a little odd but by design. I looked forward to his class every day.
And his pointer! Glad someone in the comments reminded me of that. When I read this obit I couldn’t help but wonder: did he play a role in my pursuit & passion for public policy and politics. Surely he did!
In writing this, I remembered that I knocked on his door unknowingly while campaigning for a candidate around 17 years ago. I said, “Mr.Jones? The Mr. Jones from CHS?” And he, with his very memorable grin, said: “Yes!”
Reconnecting with him brought back so many great memories of his classroom lessons & the history tours of campus too!
What an influential man he was!
Ron was a big influence on me. I took his history class my junior year. He was funny, approachable a little odd but by design. I looked forward to his class every day. And his pointer! Glad someone in the comments above reminded me of that. When I read this obit I couldn’t help but wonder: did he play a role in my pursuit & passion for public policy and politics. Surely he did!
In writing this, I remembered that I knocked on his door unknowingly while campaigning for a candidate around 17 years ago. I said, “Mr.Jones? The Mr. Jones from CHS?” And he, with his very memorable grin, said: “Yes!”
Reconnecting with him brought back so many great memories of his classroom lessons & the history tours of campus too!
What an influential man he was!
BUMMER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Buckle up for 4 trips down Memory Lane.
1. I was almost busted with a can of white spray paint in my hand and “RKJ” painted on a large rock along Ocean Blvd. Turned out it wasn’t the rock chosen for the senior lawn which would ultimately be defaced, burned, and buried.
2. When someone had a bad idea for something to do we would often tell them, “There’s no future in that.” I always enjoyed telling RK, “There’s no future in the past!” In fact, the adage made it onto a protest sign I created when we decided to picket RK’s apartment just before our final exam.
3. When I was living in Coronado in the late 1980’s, I ran into RKJ in the supermarket and said, “Bitchin’–Ron Jones.” He replied “Bitchin’–Rick Gaw.” This was over 20 years since we had last seen each other and he still remembered me. As I think about it, it was because I had once called him a “rascal” in front of his entire class just as he was walking into his office. I do remember that he quickly jumped back into the classroom with a stunned look on his face and asked, “Did you just call me an A$$hole?” While I hadn’t, I suppose the memory would last a good 20 years.
4. After our junior year, Jim Newhall, RK, and I were planning a trip to Europe with a special focus on horse racing. Although we had parental approval, the trip never happened. As I recall, RK lost his travel money betting on the ponies.
BULLY! BULLY!!! — RIP RKJ
RIP Ron. You were truly an amazing teacher. I have used your teaching methods as a teacher myself. Thanks for your humor, wit, and wisdom. Class of 66
While Mr Jones loved the boys of CHS’69; he had a soft spot for the girls of CHS’71. He was both a great teacher of history and government, but also the best ASB (Ex-Com) mentor. All with that special sense of humor and ability to help you think critically. His parting yearbook comment of ‘the six-girl Ex-Com turned out to be a darn good Ex-Com’ was no small praise and have carried that and his laugh with me since. Fortunate to keep up with him through Rick and Tracy.
This was written so well it is unfortunate they remain nameless. Mr Jones was a teacher and a character that left a lasting impression on those that had the pleasure of being in his class.
This obituary was written by Bruce Mather (‘70)
Mauhar
Ron was first Mr. Jones, my junior year history teacher but over the years he became my friend. I was never a history buff but he liked me anyway. I went on a river cruise in 2023 and one of our stops was Flanders Field in Belgium. I had a compelling moment to send Ron an email apologizing for being such a lackluster student. He wrote back telling me how proud he was that I took the time to write him and then he wrote out the whole Flanders Field poppy poem. We then had an on going email conversation about all the places I visited that I was in such aah of. He was happy that I was finally getting it! I met my husband, Rick, at his house after my freshman year of college. We just celebrated our 50th anniversary last June. We made our annual anniversary call blaming Ron. He was a great guy and I miss him.
Ron was my best friend. He took me to Santa Anita Racetrack on my 18th birthday, teaching me the fine art of the racing form; he taught me how to run football pools (he ran one for years for teachers at CHS), and he was a mainstay in my pools for 30+ years. As Bruce Mauhar said in his spot-on obituary, we played innumerable games at his house; we also played ping pong, did jigsaw puzzle and played hearts; we cheered Bruin basketball. Tracy (Rohan, ‘71) and I met at his house by happenstance 52 years ago; we celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary last June. He loved the Class of ‘69, and we loved him back; difficult to believe he was 34 years old when we started his US History class as juniors. I miss him dearly.
RK was my best friend. He took me to Santa Anita Racetrack on my 18th birthday, teaching me the fine art of the racing form; he taught me how to run football pools (he ran one for years at CHS); he was in my pools for 30+ years. As Bruce’s spot on obituary said, we played innumerable games at his house; we played ping pong; we did jigsaw puzzles; we competed in bridge marathons; we cheered on Bruin basketball victories. Tracy (Rohan, ‘71) and I met at his house by happenstance 52 years ago; we celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary last June. He love the class of ‘69, and we returned the favor. I miss him dearly.
What a beautiful tribute. He was old school, and there aren’t many of those left.
I did not know Mr. Jones personally, rather as a student. His classes enthralled my imagination and gave to me an insatiable love of history. His storytelling captivated the moment and its influence on the present. One of the great Coronado teachers.
Michael Foley, ‘82
“Dr. Jones” was my teacher…the dryest humor and unforgettable to say the least. He then taught my youngest son, Tyler. He was one of the teachers that really helped Tyler through his Senior year at CHS. 10 years after Tyler’s graduation Ron realized I was T’s mother and never missed asking me how he was doing. He insisted his intuition was to get Tyler out into the world and away from a school desk where he could forge his path in an artist’s world. We both owe a tribute to him for his part in shaping our lives. I will miss him.
Bruce Mauher wrote this wonderful tribute to Ron. Ron would likely have smiled and cracked some sort of joke after reading this.
The fellowship of Coronado residents and the oneness of being on our island, created a “we” that continues to this day. No one in my life, has brought together a motley band of personalities that became friends like Ron’s generosity, humor and style.
May we all create our own bonding of “we” to the people still with us.
Love you Ronald.
CORRECTION: Wee hour posts are risky re errors and omissions. Ron’s Dart Room had MANY try their hands, most flailing laughably. My immediate recollection went to his teaching colleagues, so it was Bobby—not Billy—Concannon, and two of RK’s cherished friends were Bruce and Renee Mauher, and Bruce was a fierce flinger of darts, while the affable Irish American Andy Shanahan was also a Darts Room staple, and Ron’s Real Estate Agent (not bad for a former student, eh?), helping Ron buy his home in Imperial Beach as Coronado rent prices pushed many off of The Rock. Andy eventually moved himself to the great Northwest!
Lots of good memories with the Ronster and his constant flow of fun-loving pals.
My big brother, Eric, said Ron was a good guy you could trust for fun and the latest rock. He’d battle Ron in Scrabble and keep the turntable busy. I followed suit, eventually becoming a dart fanatic with regulars like Maury Shaw, Billy Concannon, Bill Seager, Mr. Bennett, and my tightest pals, D. R. Peck and Mike Stenvall. From the classroom to the track to concerts, and laughing at us play softball in barefeet at Sunset Park, Ron was a constant in our lives for decades, doling out wisdom, sharp opinion, humor, and moral support. After years of trying, he was amused when I finally won a round of ‘Oh, Hell’ at the card table with the boys. Rock on, Ronnie!
Ron was more than a teacher and a mentor, he was a friend for over 50 years. He was a home away from home when needed, and he provided a place to laugh and imbibe and argue and dream about our futures. Good teachers are a treasure, and Ron was that, and more. He will be missed, but not forgotten.
A lovely tribute for a lovely man!