Smart, loving, funny, talented, connected to nature
Kelly was 6’5,” so no one ever teased him about his name. He was ambidextrous–unless he was eating or writing, then he was left-handed–and was very good at sketching (even though he never thought so). He was a man of many skills and interests. If you wanted to know the best night for a meteor shower, how to grow strawberries and watermelons, animal caretaking, or who to pick for your trivia team, Kelly was the guy to ask.
During childhood, Kelly always dreamed of becoming a veterinarian. He was a precocious and independent kid, a lover of the outdoors and animals. Kimberly, his mother, remembers that at five, he declared he was ready to start making his own eggs. Soon a step stool was retrieved, and with some guidance, little Kelly began cooking his own breakfast. He loved being in the woods, often hunting or fishing with his dad and brother. When he wasn’t on an expedition, he could make his own fun, spending afternoons hitting apples out of his grandma’s tree with a baseball bat.
His love of animals and the wild endured from childhood. In the later years of his life, he worked as an arborist, nurturing crops and expanding his knowledge of trees and plants. And he never forgot his veterinarian dreams, discussing vet school or vet tech options throughout his life. Although he never accomplished this particular goal, he attended a year of nursing school, a year of machine tool technology school, and cared for goats and chickens on a friend’s farm.
Aaron Jones was Kelly’s younger brother. They were born just 12 months apart, so naturally they had their spats, but were always loyal and steadfast brothers when it came down to it. Even on his worst days, when his disease hindered him from holding down a job, Kelly expressed his love for his family. He kept his kind heart through the hardest of times, a difficult and noble accomplishment.
Kelly is remembered for his dry humor and generous spirit. Every holiday, he would help his older adult neighbor hang decorations from her tree. The neighbor told Kimberly that this Easter, the eggs hanging from her tree were in honor of Kelly. He loved to share meals with neighbors and family, celebrate holidays, or sit by the lake, and tell tall tales. During his stints in the hospital, he maintained his humor. When Kimberly asked Kelly what the doctors had told him about his status, he would tell her, “blah, blah, blah.” Together, they would laugh through the hardship.
During Kelly’s struggle, Kimberly studied substance use disorder and learned about the danger of stigma. She noticed it in the way her son was treated when hospitalized and found that she had to advocate on his behalf–to prove his humanity and to remind others that he was suffering from a disease, not a moral failing.
Kimberly misses Kelly’s smile and sense of humor the most.
Kelly’s mother, Kimberly Baker, provided the information for this narrative
October 15, 1989-October 23, 2024-Age 35
Portrait Artist: Jeremy Hebbel
Narrative Writer: Livia Cohen
