Rachel Jones

When, about thirty years ago, Kam Malone announced that he would be leaving his (first) stint as choir director at our church, Trinity United Methodist, I mentioned the opening to my school friend Rachel Jones at Garden Lakes Elementary. She applied for the supposedly part-time job and was hired. It was one of the best hires in the history of our congregation. There has never been a "part-time" employee who put more of herself into a job. And she filled two positions at once; she directed the choir AND played the organ. Her title became Organist/Choirmaster but really she was our Minister of Music. 

Rachel considered it her job to see that music was an all-encompassing ministry for our congregation from cradle to grave. She directed a children's choir and organized frequent musical productions involving the children. I was privileged to help her with that program and witnessed first hand her devotion and musicianship. She sought to develop a core group of soloists as well as small ensembles in addition to the chancel choir. I was a direct beneficiary of that ministry. During her time with us she chose many solos for me, spent extra time and taught me to sing them, called on me to sing them often when they would fit with the pastor's sermon, and even set up Sunday evening concerts for me. She did the same for other singers. I especially enjoyed the time she had my daughter Brannon and me perform a Sunday evening concert together. 

She possessed an unbelievable wealth of church music experience and a noggin that was a veritable world catalog of Christian hymns, solos, and choir pieces. She had appropriate music for every occasion, any scripture, and whatever topic the pastor could find to preach about.

I always enjoyed my rehearsal and performance time with Rachel. She helped me prepare for numerous weddings and funerals over the years. On at least two occasions she helped me prepare for and accompanied me on musical programs for civic groups. Two humorous stories always come to mind. 

Once she threatened my life! She had me sing a beautiful song each Easter for several years: "In the End of the Sabbath." It is a very dramatic song about the Resurrection and the climactic words are "He is not here; He is risen!" But in rehearsal one year I got tongue-tied and some how managed to move the "not" from the first clause to the second. She stopped the accompaniment with a bang, turned and looked at me and said with a big grin, "If you sing it that way on EASTER morning I'll kill you!" We both laughed about it and I never again made THAT mistake, and still survive.

On another occasion she became the only person of my lifetime to accuse me of genius. I was singing a brand new solo she had taught me for the first time in a Sunday morning service. Again I messed up the words and put the wrong word into the song at a point where the word needed to rhyme with the corresponding word in the next line. I could feel Rachel cringing wondering what I would sing. Perhaps it was divine intervention that allowed my cloudy brain to clear long enough to come up with a rhyme that -- amazingly -- made sense! As far as we know no one in the congregation noticed there was a glitch. On the way up the stairs to the choir room, with no witness that I can call on to vouch for me, she said, and I quote: "You're a genius!" It may be more of a testament to my lack of genius that she was so shocked that I came up with that rhyme "on the spot." 

In 1997 my Mother moved to Rollingwood, just across Huffacre Road and a few doors west of Rachel and Bob. Rachel often took walks through the neighborhood and Mother always enjoyed seeing Rachel walk by, and every now and then she'd walk by when I was visiting with Mother and we'd get to visit a while in the driveway. 

Just three weeks ago, I walked that block from my mother's house to the Joneses to talk with Rachel and her husband Bob. My mother had just died and I wanted to ask Rachel to play for the funeral. Rachel reluctantly let me know that arthritis had limited her piano and organ playing and I needed to find someone else. But what a joy it was to sit with Bob and Rachel and reminisce about her decade as our music minister. I had a chance to tell her very directly how much that ministry has meant to me, and Sheila, and our daughters over the years. 

And I reminded Bob that I came home from my very first voice lesson with him and told Sheila, "I am a better singer than I was a couple of hours ago." And I was. Bob is a wonderful voice teacher who helped me understand significantly more about my own voice in just one lesson.

Rachel was that day, as always, gracious, sharp, and warm. And in that week of sad loss, the love and support I felt from Rachel and Bob was an elixir. What a horror that here only three weeks later we have another loss. Rachel had a terrible fall at home a few days ago and succumbed to her injuries on Sunday. Rachel's funeral will be held at Second Avenue Baptist Church at 10 a.m. on Friday, August 27.  Visitation is scheduled for the hour preceding the funeral there at the church. 

I am a better singer. I am a better musician. I am a better person because of Rachel Jones. The world is a poorer place today without her, but a much better place because of her gentle influence during the last eight decades. I am so thankful that I had a chance to know, and to learn from, Rachel Jones.