Judge Jones Dies After Marrow Transplant

Superior Court Judge Frederick A. Jones, a jurist known for his resolute independence and dry wit, died Tuesday at UCLA Medical Center of complications from a bone marrow transplant.

He would have turned 55 today.

Jones had been diagnosed with leukemia in 1994 and had gone through numerous medical procedures, including removal of his spleen.

On Jan. 27, he underwent the riskiest treatment of all--a transplant of bone marrow donated by his younger brother.

Colleagues were saddened by news of his death.

“Fred and I have been friends for 25 years,” Dist. Atty. Michael Bradbury said in a statement. “He was a fine man, a good husband and a good father. I loved him and will miss him greatly.”

Ken Clayman, Ventura County’s chief public defender, called Jones “the very, very best as a human being, and an absolutely wonderful judge. He was the most even-handed you can find.”

*

At the courthouse, the news cut short an afternoon of testimony in the trial of Michael Dally, who is accused in the murder of his wife, Sherri. Judge Charles W. Campbell called a halt to the proceedings after reports of Jones’ death were confirmed at 4 p.m.

Prosecutor Lela Henke-Dobroth began to cry and then walked out of the courtroom--the one over which Jones had presided for years.

Outside, longtime Ventura defense attorneys James M. Farley and Ed Whipple talked somberly about the judge.

Whipple fought back tears as he touched the nameplate on the courtroom: “Superior Court. Frederick A. Jones.”

“He was a good man,” said Farley, who is representing Dally. “He was a family man. He was a fair man. And he ran his courtroom without any doubt that he was the one in charge.”

Jones was to have presided over the Dally trial as he had over the trial of Dally’s lover, Diana Haun. However, days before the Dally jury was to be picked last November, the judge bowed out.

“It can’t wait,” he said at the time. “I am told by the doctors I do not have the four months to put off the transplant. I was hoping I’d never have to have one.”

But as his leukemia progressed, it had become clear to him and his doctors that he would need a transplant. The complex procedure entails months of recovery in an isolation unit designed to keep germs from a patient’s severely weakened immune system.

However, the disease could not be brought back under control.

Dr. Gary Schiller, the hematologist in charge of Jones’ care, said he sustained complications from the procedure and the leukemia did not seem to respond to the treatment, despite intensive chemotherapy.

*

Jones’ family was with him when he died. He is survived by his wife, Lee, and his sons, Travis, 24, and Braden, 23. Both sons are students at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo.

Jones was born in Glendale and graduated from Whittier College and UCLA Law School. After a three-year stint as an FBI agent, he served as a prosecutor in the Ventura County district attorney’s office for nine years.

He was elected to the Municipal Court in 1979 and appointed to the Superior Court by Gov. George Deukmejian in 1986.

He was known in the legal community for his independent thinking.

“He was a judge who set his own standards,” said Superior Court Judge Steven Z. Perren, a colleague for the last 30 years. “And he was absolutely unintimidated by any form of outside pressures or considerations.”

Oxnard attorney David Shain said he got to know Jones’ independence first-hand when he was defending a woman accused of shocking her ex-husband’s new wife with a stun gun.

Prosecutors were pushing for eight months of jail time. The probation department was pushing for four. Jones, however, said no purpose would be served by putting the woman behind bars.

“Judge Jones served no person except himself and his concept of what he thought was the right thing to do,” Shain said.

While often described as fair-minded, Jones also could be merciless when he felt lawyers were wasting his time. When fumblers tried to finesse their way through a point, he let them know he knew it.

“One of the things he was demanding about was preparation and courtesy in the courtroom,” said public defender Clayman. “He was very intolerant of unprepared and unprofessional lawyers.”

At the same time, Jones was known for his humor, dry as gunpowder and just as potent.

*

Fellow Superior Court Judge David W. Long remembers appearing before Jones as a lawyer several years ago. Long told the judge he was concerned about the length of the pending trial because of a planned trip to Jamaica.

“He never cracked a smile, and in a courtroom full of people he turned to me and said, ‘Jamaica, Mr. Long? Do you realize how angry that makes me?’ ”

“I didn’t know him well then, but I now know how much fun he was having pulling my chain,” said Long, who added that he subsequently came to play “Jack Benny to his George Burns.”

Reflecting over Jones’ career, many of his colleagues pinpointed the Haun case as his biggest challenge. The lurid murder had drawn national attention, with thousands of people here and elsewhere following every move. Pressure was on the judge to keep his courtroom from becoming another California spectacle and at the same time to provide a fair forum for both sides.

Meanwhile, he also had to keep a tight rein on his own emotions, as his health deteriorated to the point of crisis.

“That was his crowning glory,” said Ventura attorney Glen Reiser. “It was a major case that was befitting a judge of Jones’ stature.”

Funeral arrangements are pending.

*

Times staff writer Fred Alvarez contributed to this report.