Miguel Irving, one of Michael Jones' death disciples. - Photo by Paul Williams

Michael Jones eats, drinks and sleeps death. Now he's trying to help others acquire the taste.

"In the whole west (Kingston) here ... this is the only funeral home which has the youths from the inner cities learning something," declared Jones, operator of Jones Funeral Home & Supplies.

Jones, himself a product of west Kingston, a section of the city teeming with low-income enclaves, is not only providing a service for the relatives of the dead but is giving life to the community through employment and learning opportunities for youths who could be occupied with another aspect of death.

"What I get from my community is schooling: go to school in my community, go to church when I was a little boy," Jones said. "I see where most of these little boys, they have no future, no bright future, and it is my nature to help, having been helped since I was a little boy."

The youths he's now helping to find their footing are much younger than the average funeral home worker. This is as a result of Jones' profiling and profession-alism. He has reinvented the way in which small-scale funeral home workers perceive themselves by paying special attention to their deportment.

Invaluable training

Some of his charges are too young; he can't employ them permanently. During holidays, they go by the funeral home to do miscellaneous jobs, getting invaluable training in the process.

Jones, 44, also teaches them after school, and has them prepare and dress bodies, and make coffins. He also takes them to funerals to learn the ropes.

"I train my guys. I tell them exactly what I want them to do when they go out there. That's how I advertise," Jones said with pride. "For example, they have to be properly attired. Once we are going out to deliver the body, it's a presentation."

At some funerals, Jones turns up incognito and watches the proceedings, listening to mourners' comments and observing his disciples' work. He immediately makes mental notes for a post-mortem of their performance. Back at the office, an informal assessment takes place. This is integral to improving his products and services, said Jones.

"If there is an error, mi come back and fix it. As them come in, mi deh pon them case, man," said the funeral-home operator. "Me not disrespecting them, pure love me love them yah man. Me can't eat lunch and them not eating lunch."

The consideration he has for his workers was recently extended to Noel Palmer, the Mill Bank man who lost his 10-year-old son and three other relatives in the December 2008 Portland market-truck accident. Jones provided complete funeral services without taking a cent from the family.

Jones, a father of six, boasts that God is his only business partner. Service with honesty is his personal and business philosophy, which he tries to impart to his eager protégés.

Early experience

The St Anne's school graduate, who is a trained mechanic, recalls his days as an apprentice. His induction into the business of death was as driver of a hearse, on his father's behalf, for Madden's. At first, he was terrified by dead bodies but that initial trepidation melted away with experience.

Later, Jones bought a hearse from Delapenha's Funeral Home and went into business with partners, but that operation was shuttered. Deciding to go solo, he found space at a defunct funeral home and started out with just an empty building.

It's been five years since he has been providing final-care services, but Michael Jones has also been changing the negative attitude that young men have towards working in the funeral industry. Youths in west Kingston now have a new lease on life, even if it's only to be well dressed to carry out funeral functions.

"When mi done teach them, if them want to move on, fine. It's like a school," said Jones. "Any of them little youth come, them have to learn. If they come for the money (only), they can't stay, they must come for knowledge."

paul.williams@gleanerjm.com