Helen Jones was angel on earth

DORA — For three decades of Dora students in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, "store day" was a highlight of the school week.

Those were the Friday afternoons when elementary students made the 100-yard trek for teacher-supervised shopping sprees at the Dora Grocery, owned and operated by Helen and Opal Jones.

My store days started in the late '60s. I and most of my classmates came to school each Friday clutching a precious dime. A handful of the highly envied had quarters.

Even as our teachers struggled to imprint us with Dick and Jane and multiplication tables and cursive writing, come Friday our elementary brains collectively left the building to dreamily drift among the shelves and bins of the Dora Grocery.

The sweetest thing about store day — and I mean this sincerely — was not the candy bars or the ice cream or the soda pops. It was Helen Jones.

Helen and Opal had five children together, but during 30 years of running the store, they became adoptive parents to hundreds of others, and Helen, especially, poured love upon us like syrup on pancakes.

As an adult, I cringe imagining the weekly chaos that we wrought as we descended into the store. Opal issued the occasional stern reprimand to straighten out us young hooligans, but in Helen's eyes, we could do no wrong.

And then there was the Frito pie.

In the mid-1970s, the Joneses scaled back and closed most of the grocery store, concentrating the snacks in a small space on the west end dubbed "The Coyote Den."

I was in high school by then. We students packed the place three times each day — before classes started, during the completely inappropriately named 20-minute lunch "hour," and again after school.

Using a recipe that came from memory, Helen made chili by the gallon, most of which ended up on top of paper boats filled with crunchy Fritos, smothered by cheese.

It was a delectable creation, served by a woman who showered us with smiles and hugs, knew all of our names, loved us as her own.

Whether or not Frito pie makes it into the eulogy at her funeral at 2 p.m. today at Calvary Baptist Church in Portales, I know I'm not the only Dora kid who will never forget it.

And I don't have to wonder whether Helen got a halo when she died Saturday evening. She'd already been wearing one for 95 years.

That smudge on one side? It's chili. Trust me, it's delicious.

Betty Williamson thinks the world needs more Helens and more Frito pies. You may reach her at: [email protected]