in the community do well. They would have been astounded to know we were fairies. We lived south of the Jones property, just across the section line road. The house is gone now, burned years ago after a lightning strike.
“So the Joneses were our neighbors, but we never knew them well. Mother and Father kept to themselves, which is the fairy way, and we lived on the back side of the Jones property, so we didn’t run into each other. We did visit their property though, at night, to enjoy the woods and the animals. Mother and I used to love flying together among the trees.” Willow sighed and continued.
“The Jones family is from Alabama. They had money and a huge plantation with slaves. After the Civil War, things were bad, but somehow the Joneses managed to keep their slaves and part of their land. The South they knew was gone, so they decided to move north. A few years after the war, the family came to Hoopeston. How they chose Hoopeston is anyone’s guess, but Father thought it was because this was always a center for agriculture and industry. The market for vegetables required considerable hand labor to pick and process. The entire household moved, slaves included, though now they were called ‘workers.’
“Clarence Jones moved the family, Chester’s great-great-grandfather. His son James was a little boy when they moved north to a huge land parcel with the woods in the center. The old Jones home stood east of the woods; the road into the heart of the woods still exists, though it’s grass-grown. Clarence saw the woods as a nuisance and planned to clear the land and fill in the pond, but James grew up in the woods and knew every twig and leaf, people say. When just a young man, James convinced his father to build a grand house of stone deep in the woods, to show the world the family’s sophistication. The house, which they just called the Big House, was completed around 1900. A separate wood and stone structure stood nearby to house the field workers. You saw the remaining stone portion when we went to the pond. Louie and I converted it to a storage shed years ago.
“The Big House became a showcase for the family’s affluence. They entertained quite often. The house was built for that purpose: to show off, and to intimidate. Even the Jones’s enemies sought invitations.
“Building the house was quite a project. Clarence and James did most of the work themselves, including the interior carpentry. The job proved too much for old Clarence. He fell ill and was bedridden until his death.
“About the same time the house was completed, Armstrong Jones was born, Chester’s grandfather.”
“Let me see if I have this right: the lineage is Clarence, James, Armstrong … who was next?”
“Anthony, Chester’s father.”
“Okay, so it was Clarence, James, Armstrong, Anthony, and Chester.”
“You’ve got it,” Willow said. “Unlike his father, Armstrong had no use for nature and loathed the woods, but he became infatuated with the Big House. He wanted to change the name to ‘Jones Castle.’ Armstrong lorded over the workers, who for some reason stayed. The family had power over them that was never understood. They added to the group over the years, but unable to attract blacks, they recruited Roma.” Willow’s voice changed on this last word, to a rich, far eastern accent. She stopped at Noah’s questioning expression. “Sorry. Most people today call them gypsies, but their proper name is Roma or Romani. That in itself proves the Joneses had some power or threat over their workers, for the Roma didn’t take on work that caused them to stay in one place for long.” Willow paused and smiled.
“Contrary to popular opinion, the Roma are wonderful people. Unusual, yes, but kind and thoughtful. Did you know they originated in northern India?”
“No. I always assumed they were from eastern Europe.”
“That’s where they migrated after leaving India. The Roma are Guardians of the Mystery.
“So the Joneses were our neighbors, but we never knew them well. Mother and Father kept to themselves, which is the fairy way, and we lived on the back side of the Jones property, so we didn’t run into each other. We did visit their property though, at night, to enjoy the woods and the animals. Mother and I used to love flying together among the trees.” Willow sighed and continued.
“The Jones family is from Alabama. They had money and a huge plantation with slaves. After the Civil War, things were bad, but somehow the Joneses managed to keep their slaves and part of their land. The South they knew was gone, so they decided to move north. A few years after the war, the family came to Hoopeston. How they chose Hoopeston is anyone’s guess, but Father thought it was because this was always a center for agriculture and industry. The market for vegetables required considerable hand labor to pick and process. The entire household moved, slaves included, though now they were called ‘workers.’
“Clarence Jones moved the family, Chester’s great-great-grandfather. His son James was a little boy when they moved north to a huge land parcel with the woods in the center. The old Jones home stood east of the woods; the road into the heart of the woods still exists, though it’s grass-grown. Clarence saw the woods as a nuisance and planned to clear the land and fill in the pond, but James grew up in the woods and knew every twig and leaf, people say. When just a young man, James convinced his father to build a grand house of stone deep in the woods, to show the world the family’s sophistication. The house, which they just called the Big House, was completed around 1900. A separate wood and stone structure stood nearby to house the field workers. You saw the remaining stone portion when we went to the pond. Louie and I converted it to a storage shed years ago.
“The Big House became a showcase for the family’s affluence. They entertained quite often. The house was built for that purpose: to show off, and to intimidate. Even the Jones’s enemies sought invitations.
“Building the house was quite a project. Clarence and James did most of the work themselves, including the interior carpentry. The job proved too much for old Clarence. He fell ill and was bedridden until his death.
“About the same time the house was completed, Armstrong Jones was born, Chester’s grandfather.”
“Let me see if I have this right: the lineage is Clarence, James, Armstrong … who was next?”
“Anthony, Chester’s father.”
“Okay, so it was Clarence, James, Armstrong, Anthony, and Chester.”
“You’ve got it,” Willow said. “Unlike his father, Armstrong had no use for nature and loathed the woods, but he became infatuated with the Big House. He wanted to change the name to ‘Jones Castle.’ Armstrong lorded over the workers, who for some reason stayed. The family had power over them that was never understood. They added to the group over the years, but unable to attract blacks, they recruited Roma.” Willow’s voice changed on this last word, to a rich, far eastern accent. She stopped at Noah’s questioning expression. “Sorry. Most people today call them gypsies, but their proper name is Roma or Romani. That in itself proves the Joneses had some power or threat over their workers, for the Roma didn’t take on work that caused them to stay in one place for long.” Willow paused and smiled.
“Contrary to popular opinion, the Roma are wonderful people. Unusual, yes, but kind and thoughtful. Did you know they originated in northern India?”
“No. I always assumed they were from eastern Europe.”
“That’s where they migrated after leaving India. The Roma are Guardians of the Mystery.
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