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Harvey Douglas Jones, better known as Doug to his family and friends, was born August 2, 1918 in Delmont, South Dakota, the son of Harvey L. and Lillian A. (Jordt) Jones. As a child the family made their home on a farm near Winner. He grew up and received his education in the Winner area.

As a teenager the family moved to Custer, South Dakota. As a young man, he served in the United States Navy during World War II. After he received his medical discharge he returned to Winner where he established the Winner Plumbing and Sheet Metal Company.

He was united in marriage to Mary Mason on October 31, 1946 in Winner. They made their home in theWinner, Chamberlain, Custer and Wall before moving to Quinn in 1987, where they have since resided.

Doug was a member of the Masonic Lodge in Winner and Custer. He was a member of the Quinn VFW. He was an avid hunter and fisherman and especially enjoyed his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Grateful for having shared his life are his wife Mary of Quinn; one son Kelly Jones of Quinn; three daughters Donna Jones of Denver, Colorado, Mary Kay Molliconi and her husband Carl of Denver, and Judy Uminski and her husband Tony of San Antonio, Texas; ten grand-children; six great-grandchildren; one brother Don Jones and his wife Joanne of Tucson, Arizona; two sisters Anna Spann and her husband Neil of Tucson, and Helen Carroll of Silver City, New Mexico; a very special nephew Ron Stickland of Silver City; and a host of other relatives and friends.

Doug was preceded in death by one grandson Joseph Douglas Uminski; one great-granddaughter Anne Hillman; his parents; two brothers Eddie Jim Jones and Robert Jones; one sister Marjorie Jones.

Harvey Douglas "Doug" Jones, age 85, of Quinn, South Dakota, died Saturday evening, April 3, 2004, at the Hans P. Peterson Memorial Hospital in Philip.

At his request, there will be no services.

Private family burial will be at a later date in Black Hills National Cemetery, Sturgis, South Dakota.

Memorials may be directed to Mary E. Jones, P.O. Box 117, Quinn, South Dakota, 57775.

"GONE FISHING"


If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings -- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run --
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!


R. Kipling

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