Edward L. Jones clasps Mister Moon Man Goes to Japan, the vibrant children’s book — the last of nine books that he’s self-published and the first children’s book he’s finished — in his lap as he reads the poetic lines aloud, enunciating each word.

“‘Doko ni iki masu ka,’” he said, the story changing from English to Japanese as he studies his onlookers. “‘Doko ni iki masu ka.’ Do you know what that means?”

He stops reading after each page to show his audience, three college students, the glossy, swirling illustrations. A pause fills the room while Jones’ audience members look around at one another, as if hoping at least one of them can answer correctly so as not to disappoint their new teacher.

Jones repeats the phrase again.

“It means, ‘Where are you going,‘” someone replied, to which Jones nods, satisfied, a barely noticeable smile creasing the corner of his lips. He continues to read, the cadences of his voice helping to capture the book’s whimsical story line.

Jones, who was one of the UW’s first African-American professors and academic advisers from 1968 until 1987, prevailed over many obstacles and transferred this strength to the students and people whom he taught and advised during his career. Though he is battling cancer, his passion for teaching and giving guidance allowed him to instill his insatiable hunger for learning in others, which he continues even into his 80s.

While stationed in Japan for two weeks during World War II, Jones became interested in learning the language. So when this knowledge-hungry man returned from the war — after serving as an officer, flying Taylorcraft surveillance planes and being a part of a mounted cavalry — he decided to enroll at the UW. Jones completed three degrees at the UW: speech and drama, far Eastern studies and philosophy. He also learned four different languages: Chinese, Spanish, Russian and, of course, Japanese.

Jones then went on to pursue a jurist doctorate from Gonzaga University, where he met his wife, Lynne Jones.

“He was putting on a play at the Spokane Civic Theatre,” Lynne Jones said, recalling their meeting fondly. “And he was just fascinating. He had this charisma, and we’d love to sit and just talk.”

Students found Jones — who would later go on to direct plays in a Hollywood players theater, the Roycroft theatre in Capitol Hill, and the UW’s Ethnic Cultural Theatre — compelling when he taught black history and speech at the UW from 1968 to 1987 and also admired him as an effective role model.

Steven Baumann, a realtor in the Seattle area, took Jones’ African studies class almost 30 years ago.

“Dr. Jones made me realize that there is nothing I cannot achieve if I put my mind to it,” said Baumann, who believes that Jones’ classes taught him a new work ethic. “He also helped me to look at myself in a more positive light from every aspect and not to cower or kowtow to thoughts or actions of others.”

Toussaint Tyler, who played football for the UW and later went on to play in the NFL with the New Orleans Saints, said that as a professor, Jones had an air about him that made students pay attention and really absorb his lectures.

“His presence and what he’s done has opened up so many doors [culturally],” Tyler said. “His legacy is that he said, ‘Hey, it’s not just one culture that our society is made up of — it’s many different cultures.’”

Outside of the classroom and at home, Jones was still the diligent teacher.

When one of Jones’ five children, Teresa Maxie, was little, she was sitting in their kitchen when her father came downstairs with stacks of textbooks, she recalled. When she asked him what all of the books were for, he told her that he didn’t like the translation of the Greek book that he had been reading and was therefore going to teach himself Greek so that he could read the original text. And learn Greek he did.

Jones also served as an adviser at the UW, helping sculpt countless academic careers. He even started NACADA, the journal of the National Academic Advising Association, which he produced for the organization twice a year for eight years.

But his career wasn’t always so smooth. Jones’ office was broken into and his framed degrees were stolen, his requests for seeking larger classrooms were rejected, and he was even told that he’d be a receptionist.

So when Jones’ teaching contract wasn’t renewed in 1986, and he did not receive tenure, it was no surprise when his students emulated his strength and protested on his behalf.

“He was controversial because he was his own person, and a lot of the black students and the people [whom] he helped admired him for it,” Lynne Jones recalled. “He’s extremely smart, and that didn’t set well with [some] people.”

After teaching at the UW for 19 years, Jones settled into retirement, still keeping active with his passion for history and teaching by continuing to serve as a mentor and teacher for many people.

In his time, Jones has also helped mentor prominent figures like famous musician Quincy Jones; his half-brother and U.S. district judge of Western Washington, Richard Jones; former NFL player and current broadcaster for the Seattle Seahawks, Warren Moon; the executive director of the National Society of Black Engineers, Carl Mack; and many others.

“He’s a beautiful man. He was a wonderful father, a wonderful husband, an extraordinary teacher, a great mentor, a great friend,” Mack said. “And to have so many superlatives wrapped and embodied in one person is utopic. It’s beautiful.”

Jones has impacted people in and out of the UW community. For many, Jones has helped them reach their loftiest goals, and he never stops encouraging them to learn. Even today, Jones sometimes sits on the front porch of his U-District house, handing out books to students passing by.

To quote the last stanza of his children’s book, “Yes we know / How far we can go / Because in our dreams so many nights / We’re taken to see such lovely sights.”

Reach contributing writer Kat Chow at development@dailyuw.com.