Arthur Eugene & Charles Jones: Whispers from the Grave; Klaiber Cemetery, Boyd County, Kentucky

 

Compiled by Teresa Martin Klaiber 2023

 

Arthur and Charles were two of seven known children of John and Goldie Ellen Walker Jones.  I first wrote about the brothers in a blog called Fox News in July 2011.

After serving in World War I, John married Goldie Ellen Walker 29 October 1920 in Boone County, West Virginia.  The Jones rented and moved where coal mining was hiring.  Charles Jones was born 16 June 1928 in Fayette County, West Virginia. The family lived awhile in Lawrence County, Ohio, before 1940, when the Jones family moved to Boyd County where Jones worked building roads under the WPA.  The family rented on Long Branch for some time as well as in Ashland.

The Works Progress Administrate began in 1939 and ran until 1943, created for unemployed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal.  Depending on politics the folks that got jobs through the WPA were either looked down on or applauded.  The fact is the community of Garner benefited with at least two new bridges and the children had food, shelter and an education while their father gained employment and the county roads were improved.

Goodman-Paxton Photographic Collection, UK Libraries Special Collections Research Center, Box 19 item 1172, Steel arch on Garner Road

 

Over the years I have walked among the graves in Klaiber Cemetery with many relatives and made new friends with their own stories.  I met Lottie Marie Jones Lucas and her husband Norman Franklin Lucas, on a sunny Memorial weekend over twenty-five years ago.  Both are gone now and I miss their visits.  We stood by Charles grave as Lottie told how, her brother,  Charles, had been bitten by a dog, while hunting rabbits on Garner, in November 1942.  She remembered that he was in school at Oakview in Ashland but the family had no idea how serious rabies could be until it was too late. Charles died 11 January 1943 and was buried in Klaiber Cemetery.   To read more about rabies in Boyd County click the Fox News link.  In all honesty they may not have had the money for a doctor at that time.

The youngest Jones child was Arthur Eugene Jones born14 December 1941 in Boyd County, Kentucky.  He was just toddling when his brother Charles died.  In late February 1944 Arthur contracted measles complicated by pneumonia.  There was no vaccine for measles until the early 1960’s. According to the CDS “nearly all children got measles by the time there were 15 years of age.”  Just 2 years old and 2 months Arthur Eugene Jones died 1 March 1944.  The family was living at 2315 Elturu Street, off of Oakview Road, when they brought Arthur back to Garner to be buried next to Charles.

Their sister, Lottie married Norman Franklin Lucas 5 January 1946 in Ashland.  Norman’s parents are buried in Klaiber Cemetery and will be featured at a later date.  Norman and Lottie lived in Columbus, Ohio. Norman passed away in 2004 and Lottie in 2010.  After the boys died Lottie’s parents moved to Rowan County, Kentucky where John tried his hand at farming.  Sadly at the age of 44 John Jones committed Suicide, 27 June 1948[i].  Goldie lived until 15 March 1983 and died in Columbus, Franklin County, Ohio.

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[i] KY D Cert 13202, Rowan Co.

Fox News - Rabies in Eastern Kentucky

FOX NEWS

Rabies in Eastern Kentucky

Compiled by Teresa Martin Klaiber

July 2011

When I was about 12 years old a beautiful red fox lingered near our house.  I stood on the porch and watched for many minutes before calling my father.  He quietly asked me to go get his gun.  I knew something was seriously wrong when he said that.  My father, you see, was a veterinarian and while an avid hunter for food, loved all creatures and would not harm one unless necessary.  

After it was over he stated that he would send the head off to Frankfort.  No other explanation was needed. I was well versed by that time about Rabies.  The only way to test for Rabies was to send the complete head to the laboratory.  I had seen it many times and knew the routine.  And of course he was correct the animal was sick and was in early stage Rabies.  I now know the many signs to look for in animals.

I was only about 3 years old when I saw my first rabid dog.  The dog was in full blown distress with jaws locked pressed against the cage in our clinic.    I was well protected and not allowed to cross the room, as my father gently gave me the first of many lessons in life about God’s creatures.  I also remember my father going through a series of shots not once but several times so that he would not get “lock jaw” after being bitten by an animal he was trying to save.

Even before the state of Kentucky and Board of Health passed a bill in 1952 proposing all dogs be vaccinated my father was campaigning to inoculate all animals. In time the state organized clinics so that the shots were affordable for everyone with an animal.  By the time I was a teenager I helped set up clinics from the back of the Martin Veterinary Clinic white pick up truck.  We had a table, folding chairs, state forms, tags, pliers to attach said tags, and ink pens.  We were in business.  Many were set up in parking lots, or country fields.  No matter where they were held people came with truck loads of animals to get their shots.  If they did not have the required fee my father would reach in his pocket and slip me the money and say “fill out the form.”  Many times I would hear “Doc, I am a little short, but I’ll pay you later.”  Eastern Kentucky folk are good for their word, and they did.  My father gave so many shots in a day that in his book Never a Ho Hum Day he says “By the days’ end, my fingers were sore from pushing the plunger of the syringe.”

By the late 1960’s Rabies was not the horrid experience and most people in the hills of Kentucky knew that they could protect their herds and animals with a simple vaccination.  Those mass immunization programs helped decrease the instance of Rabies in Eastern Kentucky. 

While I knew the effect on animals and the torture of those shots my father took, the full impact of what the disease did to humans had not emerged in my girlish head.  As an adult the reality makes me cringe. I  have researched death certificates in Eastern Kentucky and from time to time I will find one with the cause listed as “Rabies,” “bitten by rabid animal” or simply “lock jaw.”  Every time I read one I see visions of that dog at the clinic. The vicious animal with no control, snarling, foaming at the mouth, eyes maddened and jaw uncontrolled beginning to freeze in place.  This is a horrible, horrific way to die.  

In Klaiber Cemetery, in a peaceful quiet corner, overlooking the most beautiful piece of God’s country I have ever seen are the graves of two brothers.  Charles and Arthur Eugene Jones.  They are the sons of John and Goldie Ellen Walker Jones. Their sister Lottie Marie Jones Lucas is one of the quietest and nicest ladies I have had the privilege to meet.  She and her husband Norman have been faithful visitors to Klaiber Cemetery and their loved ones for many years.  I remember the day Lottie stood by the brother’s grave marker and told me their story.

Charles, three years younger than Lottie, was born 16 June 1928 and died 11 January 1942.  He was 14 ½ years old and attended Oakview Public School.  His death certificate states that he died from “rabies due to dog bite about November 26, 1942.”    Lottie said he was out hunting and a follow up notation on the death certificate confirms “dog bite while hunting rabbits.”   Lottie says that the family knew he had been bitten but did not realize nor understand how serious this could be until it was too late.  Her brother lingered through December into January and the doctor was not called until it was too late.  

Their brother Arthur Eugene was born 14 December 1941, contracted measles and pneumonia and died in a matter of three days on 1 March 1944.  Lottie’s voice was but a whisper as she finished her sad tale.  

I have always thought, as every little girl, that my father was a hero.  He was and I can’t help wonder how many lives did he save by getting a sore finger pushing that plunger?