Neil Jones

Neil Jones, a true and proud Welshman, passed gently into that good night on June 20, 2026, but only after bravely raging against the dying of the light. (See Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night, Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, written for his dying father).

Neil lived his life with unshakable courage, strength, and positivity. He was intrepid, steadfast, and stoic.

He travelled bravely from the Rhondda Valleys of South Wales to the United States in the 1980s, where he made a home in Rochester, New York. He immediately built a successful business, becoming universally known for his hard work, perfectionism, unmatched craftsmanship, and pride in his work. He built his business, in part, on the love and care he had for those he worked with, as well as their families.

Neil brought joy, fun, and mischief to the lives of many. He was wise beyond words, outrageously generous, and admiringly stubborn (although never admitting it!). Perhaps most of all, he was the very best father and husband, impacting the lives of those he loved forever.

He always made sure that the people around him felt welcomed and belonged. He impacted the lives of everyone he met.

Neil Jones loved the world and was fascinated by its people, casting hilarious commentary when engaging in his favorite task of "people watching."

Neil had a mischievous sense of humor, finding great amusement in telling tall tales and seeing what he could convince people to believe.

Neil Jones had an indescribable influence over the lives of his children, seeking always to do the best for them and teaching them everything he knew about life and how to live, including how to be brave and positive in the face of fear and difficult times.

He leaves behind his wife, Christine Madigan Jones, whom he loved very much and who selflessly loved and cared for him until the very end with strength and grace; his daughter, Rhian Dudson Jones; and sons, Gethin Thomas Jones (Ize Jones), Aidan Michael Jones, and Owen Thonas Jones; his grandchildren, Miri Cadi Moraldo, Rhyse Rose Moraldo, Dilys Eden Jones, and Emlyn Thomas Jones, all of whom loved him dearly. He also leaves nieces and a nephew, as well as many American and Welsh family members and friends who also loved him very much.

We are forever grateful and incredibly proud of him and everything that he was.

There will be a celebration of his life at a later date.

Nos Da Neil Jones, rydyn ni'n dy garu di.

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning, they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way;
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas.

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