Master educator

Wyatt Jones was my co-worker for 25 years and one of my best friends for more than 40 years.

He was born in Samburg, Tennessee, and grew up near Reelfoot Lake. His father was a commercial fisherman, which no doubt contributed to his love of fishing. We spent many enjoyable hours together on the water. Taking a cue from a predecessor, we shed in a boat with the name “Public Schools.” Sometimes he caught the most fish, and sometimes I did. Each would brag about besting the other, but it didn’t really matter.

Jones received his bachelor’s degree in math from Harding in 1951. In 1962 he earned his doctorate in education from University of Alabama. After teaching and serving as chair of the education department at Pepperdine University for a number of years, he returned to Harding as professor of education and director of the graduate program in education, a position he retained until his retirement 25 years later.

Our offices were across the hall from each other, and we often took the few steps required to confer face-to-face on matters of mutual concern rather than use the telephone. He served on the board of examiners for the North Central Association of Colleges and Universities, and I served on the board of examiners for the National Council for the Association of Teacher Education. Both positions required time away from campus. When one of us was gone, the other covered. I was able to enjoy a semester in Italy with the HUF program because of my confidence in his ability to take my place back at the University. When he wanted to go, I returned the favor.

Jones was a master teacher of teachers. He taught educational psychology to undergraduate teacher education students during the entire 25 years he was at Harding. His lessons were peppered with stories illustrating the points he was making. Returning students frequently mention specific things they remember him saying in class that have stuck with them and helped them in their teaching careers. Some recall personal conferences in which he admonished them to be more diligent in their work. He cared.

Fairly athletic, he enjoyed racquetball and handball and taught me a lot about both on the courts in the Ganus Athletic Center. I seldom bested him as the games were new to me, but we enjoyed the com- petition. Jones also was no slouch at table tennis and golf. He enjoyed playing bridge but found few in the Rook-playing Harding com- munity who knew how, so he and his wife, Iris, taught the ne points of the game to several local couples.

In retirement, Jones was often on the River Oaks Golf Course, regularly playing a nine-hole game of two-man scramble with friends Ed Land, Bob Kelly and me. It was not unusual for us to play six days a week during the spring, summer and fall and as often as the weather allowed during the

winter. During this past year it became more and more di cult for him to play, and he had to give up the game. We miss him on the course. Jones was a devoted Christian who was baptized as a student by

Andy T. Ritchie. Throughout his teaching career, he preached regularly for congregations nearby in Alabama, California and Arkansas.

With a great deal of sadness, I say goodbye to my friend, but at the same time I rejoice in the knowledge that we shall meet again.