Life and Achievements

Bobby Jones conquered childhood illness and his own unruly temper to become one of the world’s greatest and most well’recognized athletes, as well as a model of sportsmanship.

The highest degree of excellence typically carries with it a high price. Even a casual glance at Jones’ achievements in golf might give the impression that he must have done little else with his time. Actually, quite the opposite was true. Even when he was playing his best golf at the pinnacle of his career, Jones never regarded golf as anything more than what it was--just a game. Later in life he would reflect on his priorities saying, “My wife and my children came first; then my profession [by this he meant his legal profession, not golf]; finally, and never in a life by itself, came golf.”

Jones was born into a family whose men had a talent for sports and business. The grandfather whom Jones was named after owned a cotton mill with yearly earnings in 1925 exceeding $1.5 million. Jones’ father, Robert Purmedus Jones, was an Atlanta lawyer and superb athlete who was once drafted by baseball’s Brooklyn Superbras, a team that was later renamed the Brooklyn Dodgers. Bobby Jones had a close relationship with his father--whom everyone called “Colonel”--and enjoyed his company both on and off the golf course. Perhaps his son’s closest friend and favorite golf partner, Colonel Jones was a good player in his own right, scoring in the high 70s. Jones would always look back fondly on the East Lake club championship of 1915 when young Bobby, at 13 years of age, defeated his father in the final.

Jones married his childhood sweetheart, Mary Rice Malone, on June 17, 1924. They had three children: Robert Tyre III, Clara Malone, and Mary Ellen. Like his father, Robert III took up golf, and even competed against Jack Nicklaus in the first round of the 1959 U.S. Amateur Championship at the Broadmoor Country Club in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Bobby Jones’ family remembers:

Grandson, Robert T. Jones IV: “To many people, Bob Jones is a person who is larger than life. Yet for all his achievements, his stature was greatest in the eyes of a little boy who knew little about the accomplishments for which the world held him in such awe. To this little boy, ‘Bub’ was the greatest grandfather in the world, and his home was an adventure waiting to be explored. I was the little boy.

“Every summer, my family would head south from our home in western Massachusetts to visit the grandparents: my maternal grandmother in south Georgia, and my paternal grandparents, whom we called Neenah and Bub, in northwest Atlanta.

“I would romp around Neenah and Bub’s imposing white mansion, discovering the treasures that it held. One object that particularly fascinated me was a globe which sat in the sun room. This globe was about 7 inches in diameter and it had four sterling-silver flags placed on it. The flags, two American and two British, were anchored in the globe at the approximate locations of the four sites of the Grand Slam tournaments.

“One day, while Neenah and Bub were upstairs with my parents, I decided that Bub deserved a special present and – with the thoughtfulness of a four-year-old – I thought that the four silver flags would make a lovely gift.

“With all the energy I could muster, I grabbed the first flag and gave it a yank. It came loose, but what followed was a five-inch piece of wire which connected the flag to a post hidden in the sphere’s center. Continuing with the focused attention of youth, I removed the other three flags and carried them up the stairs to give to my grandfather.

“I nervously walked in the room and held out my hands and told Bub that I had a present for him. My parents were apoplectic and my grandmother was a shade of white which I had never seen before.

“Bub, however, looked at me and at my present and said, ‘Son, that was so sweet of you to think of me. However, maybe in the future you could ask Neenah’s permission before you bring me any more gifts.’ I solemnly nodded my head and gave the flags to her.”

- adapted from the introduction to The Life & Times of Bobby Jones by Sidney L. Matthew

Grandson, William Black: “I remember asking permission to miss school to attend the Masters tournament. My principal (and football coach) thought it was a ‘great educational opportunity’ - Can you imagine anything like that happening in today’s public schools?

“Once Jack Nicklaus and his dad walked over for a visit with Bub. Of course the big discussion at the time was whether young Jack should turn pro or not...I think Bub wanted him to keep his amateur status but knew the financial rewards were too great to pass up.

“I fondly remember the warm spring nights with short walks to the clubhouse for dinner with family and friends and the eerie look of the golf course totally void of spectators and players. The sound of cars rushing by in the distant hills sounded like the roars from the gallery hours earlier – I swear I can hear that sound even today.”

“I think that may be a reason I missed so many years at the Masters-- just knowing it would never be that way again. My brief shining moment in Camelot, I guess.”

Granddaughter Adele Jones: “I was 18 during the Vietam War when protests were very common. That was the year the voting age was lowered and I became eligible to vote. I had made a comment to Bub that I didn’t think I would vote because my vote didn’t count anyway.

“His words made a deep impression: I have missed one election in the last 38 years and it was an uncontested city election. Bub was above all else a Veteran and a proud American.”

“Bub told me that I should always vote in every election because even if my candidate didn’t win it was my right as an American to vote, that people for almost 200 years (this was before the bicentennial) had given their lives to give us the right to vote.

“His words made a deep impression: I have missed one election in the last 38 years and it was an uncontested city election. Bub was above all else a Veteran and a proud American.”

Granddaughter Mimi Jones Hedwig: “I was in the cabin in Augusta with Bub watching the end of the 1968 Masters on TV in the back room. By that time his disease had advanced to the point where mobility was difficult and possible only with the use of a wheelchair, so he could not go out to the course.

“All of a sudden the door opened and a horde of green-coated officials rushed in, looking very serious. I left the room hastily, sensing that they had something urgent to consult Bub about. The matter, I later learned, had to do with winner Roberto DiVicenzo’s having failed to sign his scorecard. Did that mean the victory had to go to Bob Goalby?

“Bub said yes, unequivocally. A scorecard unsigned meant a tournament not completed; it was that simple. Golf, for him, had always been a game of strict honor and fidelity to the rules. He once lost a tournament by the exact two strokes he called on himself for having moved his ball, even though no one else saw it.

“Roberto DiVicenzo accepted this decision graciously and Bob Goalby became the winner.

“I remember being impressed by this evidence that, no matter how physically frail my grandfather might have become, he was still sought out for the strength of his understanding and the wisdom of his experience. Those qualities remained in force until the end of his life.”