( From the http://www.dallasnews.com )
Wilford “Crazy Ray” Jones: 1931-2007
01:21 AM CDT on Monday, March 19, 2007
BY JENNIFER EMILY and JOE SIMNACHER / The Dallas Morning
Newsjemily@dallasnews.com, jsimnacher@dallasnews.com
Wilford “Crazy Ray” Jones, who turned a stint selling seat cushions at
the Cotton Bowl into a nationally recognizable role as an unofficial
Dallas Cowboys mascot, has died.
Mr. Jones, 76, died Saturday at an Irving hospice. Friends said he
suffered from congestive heart failure and had recently had a heart
attack.
“Crazy Ray” entertained decades of Cowboys fans and became a Dallas
institution in chaps and a white hat.
“This whole thing has turned out so much bigger than I ever expected,”
he told The Dallas Morning News in 1981. “I never want to do anything
else.”
Neighbors said that although Mr. Jones’ recent bad health kept him
away from Cowboys games, he remained an avid fan. He’ll be buried in one
of his costumes.
Although his funeral will be private, the family is planning a public
memorial this week. No time or date had been set Saturday.
The Nacogdoches native came to Dallas in 1953 at age 22 to make a
living shining shoes. His natural talents soon had him clowning toward his
playful calling.
“When I first got here, I was riding a city bus and talking to a
lady,” Mr. Jones said in 1974. “I had a paper bag and made some sounds. She
said, ‘Do you have a dog in there?’ I said yes.
“So the driver said, ‘You can’t have a dog on the bus.’ So I threw the
bag out the window.
“They all looked for the dog.”
That was one of many stories Mr. Jones had told for decades that his
wife, Mattie, retold Saturday when friends and family gathered around
him at the hospice, friends said. He died about 11:30 a.m. with loved
ones surrounding him.
The Joneses were married for 53 years. Mrs. Jones did not want to
speak Saturday about her husband’s death.
Although his role with the team was unofficial, he was no less
important to fans and the Cowboys themselves.
“Ray was the most dedicated, entertaining and passionate of Cowboys
fans,” Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones said Saturday. “He touched
thousands of lives and generations of football fans. He will remain an
important part of this team’s heritage and family for as long as fans go to
Cowboys games and feel his spirit.”
Pied Piper
Twenty years after he spoofed the woman on the city bus, Mr. Jones was
known as the Pied Piper of Elm Street. Still holding a day job shining
shoes at barber shops along Elm, he spent his lunch hours entertaining
children with his signature antics: whistling and making balloon
animals.
“I’d just whistle, act crazy and sell more than anybody,” Mr. Jones
once recalled. He also hung out at a magic shop downtown, learning
sleight of hand from magicians.
No matter how full Mr. Jones’ bag of tricks got over the years, his
shrill whistle was his trademark. Its force and volume made many wonder
what kind of whistle he was using and how he kept from swallowing it.
“No, it’s no whistle. I just tell ’em it’s a secret,” Mr. Jones said
of his technique.
Mr. Jones’ secret was a missing front tooth and incredible lip
dexterity.
Although Mr. Jones originally sold trinkets at college football and
minor-league hockey games, his success skyrocketed with Dallas’
professional football franchises. In the early 1960s, he began selling seat
cushions at Dallas Texans games at the Cotton Bowl and went on to become
the unofficial icon of America’s Team, the Dallas Cowboys.
At Cowboys games, Mr. Jones would dance and clown around, sometimes
riding a stick horse or scuffling with the opposing team’s mascot. As his
popularity eclipsed his need to sell souvenirs, the Cowboys asked him
not to sell and focus on entertaining the crowd.
At the peak of his fame, Mr. Jones made frequent personal appearances,
from routine showings at auto dealerships and shopping centers in
Dallas to more exotic performances in Hawaii and Mexico. He even won bit
parts in movies and commercials.
Failing health
But in the late 1980s, Mr. Jones’ health began to fail. He was
sidelined by a hiatal hernia in September 1989.
In the years that followed, Mr. Jones found himself broke and in
increasingly bad health. He had five heart bypass surgeries and a leg
amputation. By last August, he was recovering from his fourth stroke. The
strokes impaired his speed and the use of his right arm. Glaucoma blinded
him.
Cowboy fans began to ask Mr. Jones if he’d retired.
“I tell them, ‘No, I just have some heart problems,’ ” he said.
A lack of money meant his utilities were turned off, and the Joneses
had trouble paying for prescriptions.
Wayne Walker, a neighbor, coordinated efforts to help the Joneses pay
bills and renovate their house. Fans donated money and Bedford-based
Operation Forever Free — an organization dedicated to helping military
members and their families — renovated the Korean War veteran’s home
with donated time and materials.
Mr. Walker didn’t help the Joneses because Crazy Ray was a Dallas
icon, he said Saturday.
“It’s not because he’s Crazy Ray,” Mr. Walker said. “It’s because he
was a neighbor in need.”
Off the field, Mr. Jones’ personality was just as loving and
big-hearted, recalled Richard Davis, who lived across the street from the
Joneses. The two met in the mid-1960s while fishing at White Rock Lake. They
became instant friends and fishing buddies — more like brothers than
friends.
Mr. Jones was always looking to make people smile or better yet get a
big belly laugh out of them, Mr. Davis said.
“Sometimes, he might put on ladies’ clothes just to get a laugh,” said
Mr. Davis, grinning at the memory. “That was Crazy Ray.”
In addition to his wife, Mr. Jones is survived by two brothers, Paul
Jones, 62, and Jerry Jones, 64, both of the Dallas area; a sister,
Eugenia Gibson, 78, of Atlanta; and two grandsons, Derrick Jackson, 38, and
Darryl Jackson, 35. His daughter, Glenda, preceded him in death in
2000.
Staff writer Todd Archer contributed to this report.
Edge Of The Blade 
