Lewis Jones aka ironman has passed away.
- Thread starter Stones
- Start date
Lewis
I never met Lewis in person, but he and I used to communicate and laugh at Ronnie Allen's bite stories from time to time. We both had a soft spot for Ronnie over the years.
Lewis had one of the best ones. Ronnie called him and said 'You are not going to believe this, but I was driving with my window down and suddenly sneezed and blew my false teeth out the window'. I need $300 to get a new set of teeth. Lewis said 'it really is hard to believe that you lost the set of teeth I sent you $300 for a couple months ago when the same thing happened'. Lewis said Ronnie just hung up the phone.
RIP Lewis, pool has lost another good one.
I never met Lewis in person, but he and I used to communicate and laugh at Ronnie Allen's bite stories from time to time. We both had a soft spot for Ronnie over the years.
Lewis had one of the best ones. Ronnie called him and said 'You are not going to believe this, but I was driving with my window down and suddenly sneezed and blew my false teeth out the window'. I need $300 to get a new set of teeth. Lewis said 'it really is hard to believe that you lost the set of teeth I sent you $300 for a couple months ago when the same thing happened'. Lewis said Ronnie just hung up the phone.
RIP Lewis, pool has lost another good one.
wow, that would def qualify as trying to put the bite on. :grin-square:
nice story.
and sorry for the loss of your friend.
best,
brian kc
Wow! i can't believe this. Lewis just called me, twice, about 2 weeks ago. Both times he apologized for dialing the wrong number. lol. We laughed and said we would talk soon and get caught up.
Lewis was an insipiration for me starting a monthly tournament in Waco, which ran for 5 yrs. He was always ready to talk about pool and putting events together.
Lewis was good friends with Danny Medina and was helpful in putting together the memorial video I did honoring Danny. We talked about sitting down and doing an interview but it never seemed to work it out.
Rest in peace my friend. You'll be missed.
Ray
I took this picture in 2008 at the Fast Eddies Tour in San Antonio.
Lewis was an insipiration for me starting a monthly tournament in Waco, which ran for 5 yrs. He was always ready to talk about pool and putting events together.
Lewis was good friends with Danny Medina and was helpful in putting together the memorial video I did honoring Danny. We talked about sitting down and doing an interview but it never seemed to work it out.
Rest in peace my friend. You'll be missed.
Ray
I took this picture in 2008 at the Fast Eddies Tour in San Antonio.
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Like many - I enjoyed his posts over the years. It's sad news.
Rest in peace -- ironman.
Rest in peace -- ironman.
Life's not fair..Lewis Jones was too young..too special...too respected...and one of the most solid good guys I have ever met. My deepest condolences goes out to his family and all the people that knew Louis, we have lost a special person. R.I.P. Louis.
Bill Incardona
Lost a Friend, R.I.P. Lewis
I knew Lewis all the way back to 1979 when he would come to Texas on the road, normally he would have someone who could play real good. Lewis played pretty good himself. Lewis, with Paul, ran one of the best pool tournament circuits there was. Talked to him several times over the last 2 years. His memory of pool stories were great and did not have to be embellished, for they were colorful enough as they actually happened. The pool world has lost another road warrior. Lewis will be missed. Robert Newkirk
I knew Lewis all the way back to 1979 when he would come to Texas on the road, normally he would have someone who could play real good. Lewis played pretty good himself. Lewis, with Paul, ran one of the best pool tournament circuits there was. Talked to him several times over the last 2 years. His memory of pool stories were great and did not have to be embellished, for they were colorful enough as they actually happened. The pool world has lost another road warrior. Lewis will be missed. Robert Newkirk
Very sad news, but thanks for reporting it w/a picture. Lewis will be missed by many, RIP ironman! Condolences to all concerned.
My first experience w/Lewis is when we bet on the SVB v. Busti TAR match many years ago when the lights went out. We decided to continue the bet and he won, but Lewis was a pleasure to bet with so no worries. Afterwards we found out we knew many of same people as he used to live in the Denver area before I moved to Fort Collins in 2001. I always felt our paths would cross
Dave
My first experience w/Lewis is when we bet on the SVB v. Busti TAR match many years ago when the lights went out. We decided to continue the bet and he won, but Lewis was a pleasure to bet with so no worries. Afterwards we found out we knew many of same people as he used to live in the Denver area before I moved to Fort Collins in 2001. I always felt our paths would cross
Dave
With that above statement....all I can do is ''HEAR HIS JOVIAL/GURGLING LAUGHTER''....having it heard from the horses Mouth....it brings back the ''sound'' of his voice, he'll truly be missed and Never forgotten. He was one of those guys that can put a name on a Sucker, make it stick....and because it was Louis/Butch Jones ''making up the story'' the Sucker went off For three times as looooooooooooooong Easy.:grin:
Lewis Paul "Butch" Jones died on Tuesday, March 10. He had suffered a minor stroke in January and had been hospitalized at the University of Arkansas Medical Center for five weeks between December 27 and February 2. He was moved from the hospital to a rehabilitation center, where he was expected to re-learn how to walk, minus four toes on his right foot, a complication of his diabetic condition. While in the rehabilitation center, he suffered a second massive stroke, and went into a coma from which he never recovered.
He was a road mate of the late Danny Medina; a passing, which according to his sister, he took "very hard." He was reluctant to share the true nature of his declining health, including the escalating loss of his vision and returned to his original home in Magnolia, Arkansas, explaining to any who asked him and without further explanation, that he was just "out of the business."
Lewis was probably best known as the tour director of the Texas-based Fast Eddie's Tour and ran the Texas Open Tournament for a dozen or so years. He was a tireless friend of the sport and in spite of never having met the man, in person, he was a friend of mine, as well.
We would normally spend about 20 minutes discussing the specifics of a tour stop, or the Texas Open. As I do with tour directors all over the country, I'd jot down the information and later, write a report, based on what he told me. He would take this time to speak to me, and get me what I needed to do my job, no matter how late, no matter how tired his voice told me he was, no matter how few players ended up competing at a given event. He'd do it in spite of the fact that in the last few years, as the Fast Eddie's Tour declined and eventually folded, a note of despair had crept into his voice.
He was battling complications associated with his diabetes, and making not-so-wise lifestyle decisions (smoking, drinking), but he was relentless in his efforts to do what he could do to promote the sport. It was the 20, 30 minutes, sometimes as much as an hour after discussing a tour stop with me, that we'd kick back and talk about pool.
He'd grumble a lot, though never whine, mostly about pool players (many of them, but by no means, all of them) and their apparent inability to have even a breath of understanding about what it took to actually run a professional tournament. Doing the best he could, the bickering and the petty nonsense of immature and sometimes downright rude players was, along with his health, wearing him down, bit by bit.
Circumstances would put us in touch when he was bone tired, either immediately following the conclusion of a weekend event, or the day after, waking up and pushing through exhaustion to get me the information I needed to do my job. He was by no means the only tour director who grumbled about players, so in our conversations, I could relate and offer feedback about others who shared his concerns and frustrations.
We became friends. Not close enough to warrant regular contact for reasons unassociated with pool, but strong friends nevertheless. So it came as a surprise and a sharp emotional blow to me when Tito Fernandez, who'd helped him run the Texas Open over the years, called and told me of his passing.
Tito called the night before the memorial service, scheduled for Friday, March 13th, in El Dorado, Arkansas, and I started to scramble for information about Lewis' life, surprised in some ways that I knew so little about him. He was not a subject of our conversations, ever. It was always about pool and in that regard, I think, like the character of Willy Loman in Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, that "attention must be paid."
If you're a player and ever inclined to grumble about the state of pool as we know it, and think, even for a moment, that the people who run tours are the problem, think of Lewis Jones and consider.
He was one of the good guys. He did what he did for love of the sport, and gave it every ounce of his energy, even as that energy, in poor health, declined in his final years. Think of him when you're tempted to complain about how a tour is being run, and ask yourself, not how this tour director or that tour director might have done some or any number of things better, but how you, as a player, might have made contributions that made things better. Do it in memory of him.
He was 63. Too young.
In announcing his memorial service, his family has indicated that memorial donations may be made to the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital (stjude.org) or to a charity of donor's choice.
He was a road mate of the late Danny Medina; a passing, which according to his sister, he took "very hard." He was reluctant to share the true nature of his declining health, including the escalating loss of his vision and returned to his original home in Magnolia, Arkansas, explaining to any who asked him and without further explanation, that he was just "out of the business."
Lewis was probably best known as the tour director of the Texas-based Fast Eddie's Tour and ran the Texas Open Tournament for a dozen or so years. He was a tireless friend of the sport and in spite of never having met the man, in person, he was a friend of mine, as well.
We would normally spend about 20 minutes discussing the specifics of a tour stop, or the Texas Open. As I do with tour directors all over the country, I'd jot down the information and later, write a report, based on what he told me. He would take this time to speak to me, and get me what I needed to do my job, no matter how late, no matter how tired his voice told me he was, no matter how few players ended up competing at a given event. He'd do it in spite of the fact that in the last few years, as the Fast Eddie's Tour declined and eventually folded, a note of despair had crept into his voice.
He was battling complications associated with his diabetes, and making not-so-wise lifestyle decisions (smoking, drinking), but he was relentless in his efforts to do what he could do to promote the sport. It was the 20, 30 minutes, sometimes as much as an hour after discussing a tour stop with me, that we'd kick back and talk about pool.
He'd grumble a lot, though never whine, mostly about pool players (many of them, but by no means, all of them) and their apparent inability to have even a breath of understanding about what it took to actually run a professional tournament. Doing the best he could, the bickering and the petty nonsense of immature and sometimes downright rude players was, along with his health, wearing him down, bit by bit.
Circumstances would put us in touch when he was bone tired, either immediately following the conclusion of a weekend event, or the day after, waking up and pushing through exhaustion to get me the information I needed to do my job. He was by no means the only tour director who grumbled about players, so in our conversations, I could relate and offer feedback about others who shared his concerns and frustrations.
We became friends. Not close enough to warrant regular contact for reasons unassociated with pool, but strong friends nevertheless. So it came as a surprise and a sharp emotional blow to me when Tito Fernandez, who'd helped him run the Texas Open over the years, called and told me of his passing.
Tito called the night before the memorial service, scheduled for Friday, March 13th, in El Dorado, Arkansas, and I started to scramble for information about Lewis' life, surprised in some ways that I knew so little about him. He was not a subject of our conversations, ever. It was always about pool and in that regard, I think, like the character of Willy Loman in Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, that "attention must be paid."
If you're a player and ever inclined to grumble about the state of pool as we know it, and think, even for a moment, that the people who run tours are the problem, think of Lewis Jones and consider.
He was one of the good guys. He did what he did for love of the sport, and gave it every ounce of his energy, even as that energy, in poor health, declined in his final years. Think of him when you're tempted to complain about how a tour is being run, and ask yourself, not how this tour director or that tour director might have done some or any number of things better, but how you, as a player, might have made contributions that made things better. Do it in memory of him.
He was 63. Too young.
In announcing his memorial service, his family has indicated that memorial donations may be made to the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital (stjude.org) or to a charity of donor's choice.
Skip thanks for this post to help clear up part of who Lewis was. I knew that he was somebody who was known and respected by many but I was always afraid to find out more. There are many on this forum who are equally as important to this game that just "go away" and we never know what happened. To me it is important to at least have some closure to these peoples lives.
