On May 26, 1982, at about 7:00 p.m., country music great George Jones was caught by a television cameraman as he was stopped by Officer Tommy Campsey on I-65 between Brentwood and Franklin for intoxication, says an article in the UPI archives. On the passenger seat next to him sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey. His car had no license plate, just a piece of cardboard in the back window labeled with his nickname “Possum.” Angered by the situation, and naturally scrappy, Jones took a swing at the cameraman and tried to kick him. He was arrested and taken to Williamson County jail while awaiting bail. Ralph Emery showed the clip when interviewing Jones in later years, and Jones swore it was a setup.
“[Jones] was ordered to pay [a] $50 fine, [and] $123 court cost. [His] probation [was] to do [a] concert as his punishment,” explained Sissy Bennett on Facebook. “The concert was to raise money for Williamson County Youth, Inc., now known as My Friend’s House, in 1983 at Franklin High School on the football field. [As part of the Tom and Dixie Hall Homecoming Jam.] George Jones didn’t show. The Judge was furious with him. He was summoned back to court and was given his last chance to do the concert or go to jail.”
He ended up doing the concert on August 29, 1986 in Jim Warren Park. This second concert was for Bethesda Lodge. It was to feature Jones, along with Patty Lovelace and John Anderson. While both Lovelace and Anderson had no problems with the sound equipment, according to those who were there, Jones fumbled along, once again drunk and late, stumbled through part of one song and then left.
Said one who was in the audience at the time, “When George came on stage, he was having issues with his mic and sound and couldn’t play. We all figured it was his way of getting out of doing a free concert.”
This was far from the first or last time Jones would have issues with alcohol, the law or not performing. He had serious demons that chased him his entire life. And he would eventually drive big old Caddies, each with a vanity plate saying “NO SHOW.”
At the time of the 1982 DUI, Jones was living in Brentwood. He was by then married to the wife who would eventually get him off of drugs and alcohol, and who would stick with him until his death in 2013 at 81.
Jones was born in 1931 to an abusive, alcoholic father who worked off and on in a number of low-skill jobs, and a mother who was a Baptist preacher’s daughter. He was the second of eight children.
As he said in a “Texas Monthly” article in 1994, “My mama loved me more than anybody ever did.” He learned to sing by going to church with her, received his first guitar from his father, and would listen to the “Grand Ole Opry” on the radio with both of them on Saturday nights in Saratoga, Texas as a child. He came to ‘worship’ Roy Acuff and Bill Monroe’s talent. Another favorite was Hank Williams.
It was after marrying his second wife that he made his first hit, “Why Baby Why,” in 1955. His first number one on the charts came in 1959 with “White Lightnin’.”
His father died from alcoholism in 1967, and that same year Jones did a significant stint in rehab himself. But the detoxes never really took, and one famous tale of all he’d do to get liquor included driving a lawn mower into Beaumont, Texas so he could hit the liquor store after his family hid all of his cars and car keys. There are even tales of him riding a lawnmower in Franklin, including driving one up to the Taco Bell drive-through window.
His first three wives, including singing partner Tammy Wynett, had more than enough of his binge drinking and eventually divorced him. It was after marrying his fourth wife that he moved to Brentwood.
Jones’ last move was to a big spread in Franklin in 1993, and the people there remember his bright Christmas light decorations. They were a hit with the kids, and families would drive by every holiday.
After a second DUI in 1999, and a doctor telling him he was going to die if he didn’t lay off the liquor and drugs, he finally got sober. But he found less and less joy in performing, however, he continued to make records and tour.
He would spend his last years in Franklin. There he seemed to be his happiest, according to the Texas Monthly article. On the land he kept a prized herd of Santa Gertrudis cattle. “When he is not on the road,” the article said, “he rises early every morning to tend to them and putter around his spread, building little footbridges for his streams and squirrel feeders for his trees, inspecting his holding pen, stocked ponds, and pear saplings.”
Beginning in early 2012, Jones fought respiratory infections, but in April 2013, his wife, Nancy, called the ambulance when he began to suffer from severe chills. He was rushed to Vanderbilt Medical Center where he was unresponsive for four days, until, she told “The Tennessean”, “He opened his eyes…and George said, ‘Hello there, I’ve been looking for you. My name is George Jones.’ And he was gone…In my heart I know he was talking to God.”
