The minute we met Major Everett Jones, I knew he was a character. We were at a friend’s apartment, and he was sitting on the back of the couch holding forth. His wife, Major Margaret Jones, was sitting on the arm of the couch, listening to his stories with interest, in spite of the fact that she had no doubt heard them hundreds of times. They were both remarkable people.
Everett began his military career in 1940 when he joined the Army, lying about his age. He claimed he was 18, though he was only 16. They were glad to have him. He was assigned to the African American 9th Calvary, otherwise known as the Buffalo Soldiers, at Fort Riley, Kansas.
Everett’s early days as a Buffalo Soldier were difficult, but he turned them into hilarious stories. Here’s a man who had never ridden a horse being given an untamed animal to break. According to Everett, he and the horse went at it for three days. Battered but not quite beaten, they locked eyes. Somehow, silently, they came to an agreement. The horse would let him ride it.
The name Buffalo Soldiers was bestowed upon this calvary unit by Native Americans, who thought the black troops fought bravely and that their hair was reminiscent of that of the buffalo. They operated in the American West during the Indian wars of the late 1860s. They were among the first national park rangers.
We had a black friend in his forties named Xerxes who heard us talking about Everett. He begged us to introduce him because as a child he’d been told repeatedly that there had been no black cowboys. Xerxes sat and listened to Everett’s tales about the Buffalo Soldiers and his experiences during World War II with a rapt expression on his face.
Buffalo Soldiers
The truth is that black and Latino men represented the majority of cowboys in the old West.
When he went to Europe, Everett served as an ammunition officer in France and Germany. He told us about the white officers who started an officers’ club in Paris. When the black officers knocked on the door, they were refused entry.
The general thought was “We’ll fix their wagon!” The officers found a club in the suburbs and began to stock it with liquor and food. They had men who were responsible for handling the stores coming into the city who diverted primo alcohol and provisions to their club. The best musicians were black and were happy to have their own place. Lastly, French women had no racist feelings about black people, so they flocked to the club that offered the best refreshments and music.
It didn’t take long before there was a knock on the front door. It was white officers clamoring to get in. “Well, you know, we’d like to let you in, but that’s against the law,” said the doorman righteously, shooing them away.
In spite of the fact that Margaret Barnes didn’t like Everett when they first met, they married in 1953 and were married for 47 years.
After the war, both Margaret and Everett held many positions at home and abroad in logistics, training and maintenance for a number of government and military agencies and lived in Paris for many years. They became friends with Josephine Baker, entertainer and a member of the resistance, and visited her at his home, the Chateau des Milande in the Perigord region of France.
Josephine Baker
Everett and Margaret were remarkable people whom we were lucky to have met and whom we considered two of our most interesting friends.
コメント