Dear GT40,

Here are a few last minute memories of the Jones:

In the summer of ‘83 the Jones was often quiet. The night of that year’s Baseball All-Star Game my friends Dan, Brad, Andy, and I decided to play bridge and watch the game from a table at the Jones. Phil was bartending, and he was slightly offended that we were going to tie up a table all night, but it was quiet and there was never a need for us to give up the table. That was the year Fred Lynn hit a grand slam off Atlee Hammaker. We were all AL fans, so we appreciated the AL beating up on Phil’s NL team.

On July 24 of ‘83 I was sitting at the bar watching the Yankees-Royals game. George Brett homered and Billy Martin came out to talk to the umps. Joe Bodelai was sitting next to me, and he explained the rule about how much pine tar was allowed on the bat. Joe predicted that the umps would have to call Brett out. A moment later Brett was called out and went ballistic in the famous “Pine Tar Incident”. Joe knew more about baseball than anyone I’ve ever met.

The next year I broke my ankle playing softball for the Jones team. Lewis Shaffer took me to Beth Israel, where I wound up staying for a week. The positive that came out of this was that whenever I hobbled into the Jones on my crutches, the bartenders always made someone give up a stool for me. One time I was on 14th trying to hail a cab to the Jones, and one of the twins (Tim or Tom, I forget) picked me up. He was done with his shift and heading home, but he recognized me and had to take me to the bar.

Later that summer a table of drunk NYU students was giving a waitress a hard time and saying they weren’t going to pay their bill, claiming they was something wrong with their food. Then they looked up and realized that about ten regulars were standing silently around their table, staring at them. They paid their check and left.

Summer of ‘85 I was working downtown when I got a call. A guy who I did business with was in town, and wanted to know if I wanted to get dinner with him. I picked him up at his hotel and took him to the Jones, which was jammed. We drank on the sidewalk waiting for a table, then ate. Lisa (now my wife) waited on (and flirted with) us. After dinner we went back outside, and played some whiffleball. It was Fleet Week, and we wound up pitching quarters with some British sailors. I stuck my drunk friend in a cab about 2 a.m. The next week he called me from Palo Alto and told me it was one of the most fun nights he’d ever had.

During the summer of 2013 Lisa and I were vacationing in the Adirondaks. One afternoon we went to a party at someone’s “camp” on Kiwassa Lake. The only way to get to the camp was by boat, so there were a lot of boats at the dock there. I forget why, but somebody commented on the size of my Red Sox cap. I admitted that I have a big head, but said the biggest head of anyone I ever met was a guy named Bobby Barry. When I said that, a guy standing nearby spun around a said, “Bobby Barry!” Bobby was a regular at the Jones, but also at the Ear Inn, where he captained their softball team. It turns out that this guy who had been standing near me, Jason Brill, had played on the Ear Inn team against us Jonesers, and had been in the Jones many times.

It’s actually pretty amazing how many people I run into who have fond memories of the Great Jones.

Al Vyssotsky

1951 – 2009

Oh, the early days of the Jones!  Dan LOVED the Great Jones – his place of fellow revelers and other jubilant souls.  Dan was resident thespian, raconteur, 1st baseman and chief Wild Turkey patron.  If you were lucky enough to see it, you didn’t forget those evenings when Dan would pop back a shot, grab his bottle of Rolling Rock, climb up on the table with his feet on a chair and regale us with the Tale of  Thunder Thigh.

Drama was his passion and so, fittingly, he was murdered not once, but twice, in the city he loved so, so much.  Sadly, it stuck the last time.  He is deeply missed by his family and all those who loved him.

I had a blast at The Great Jones Cafe for many years drinking Rolling Rocks and munching on Cajun Popcorn. I had some of the greatest nights and early mornings of my life in that tiny place and will always remember it with great fondness. Having experienced several “secret” Rock and Roll shows that Bill Judkins organized (most memorably Ronnie Dawson) for Jones Anniversary Soiree’s, I thought – why not ask my pals ? And The Mysterians if they’d consider playing a set after an appearance they were making at Lincoln Center.  Originally, it was just going to be The Mysterians – playing oldie’s (that in itself would’ve been wonderful) but after some street begging from the crowd – ? Himself joined in the merrymaking and all hell broke loose. The joint was like a Space X rocket and we all blasted off for sure. A good time was had by all and the band members all loved their burgers! – Terry Murphy