Ben Jones, the actor who played lovable mechanic Cooter Davenport on "The Dukes of Hazzard" and later served two terms in Congress as a Georgia Democrat, died Sunday of a heart attack at his Virginia home.
Jones was 84. His wife, Alma Viator, announced his death on social media, saying he suffered the heart attack at his home in Washington, Virginia, while waiting to watch his beloved Atlanta Braves play baseball. Rappahannock County Sheriff Connie Compton confirmed the death.
Jones lived a life that few Hollywood résumés could match. Born in North Carolina, he got his start in acting and civil rights work during college, then spent the 1970s grinding through stage productions and small TV and movie roles in Atlanta. The big break came in 1979, when CBS cast him as Cooter, the grease-stained, CB-radio-hollering mechanic who kept the Duke boys' General Lee running across the fictional backroads of Hazzard County, Georgia.
"Breaker one, Breaker one. I might be crazy but I ain't dumb. Crazy Cooter coming at you." That CB radio call became one of the most recognized lines in 1980s television, and Jones rode the role for all seven seasons of the show's run, from 1979 to 1985.
Jones himself credited the show with pulling him out of a self-destructive, alcoholic lifestyle that had wrecked several marriages. In his autobiography, Redneck Boy in the Promised Land: The Confessions of "Crazy Cooter," he wrote about the personal wreckage that preceded his fame, and the second chance television gave him.
"It was like being in a Beatles movie," Jones once said. "Our lives changed."
"The Dukes of Hazzard" became a hit for CBS and later a prominent fixture in syndication on The Nashville Network. Jones never apologized for the show's unabashedly rural, patriotic spirit. In a 2001 interview with the Richmond Times-Dispatch, conducted at a car show where he played in a band, signed autographs, and met fans, he put it plainly:
"The show reflects the values of the heartland of America. The good guys always win."
That kind of unapologetic populism, the idea that a show about fast cars, family loyalty, and small-town mischief could speak to something real in the American character, defined Jones long after the cameras stopped rolling.
In 1988, Jones won election to the U.S. House from a congressional district near Atlanta, running as a Democrat. He served two terms before redistricting carved up his seat. He lost re-election in 1992 in the redrawn district, then ran again in 1994, this time losing to Newt Gingrich in the Republican wave that elevated Gingrich to Speaker of the House.
But Jones left a mark on the institution even in defeat. He filed an ethics complaint against Gingrich, alleging the new Speaker had used tax-deductible donations to fund a partisan college course. The complaint led to a House reprimand of Gingrich and contributed to Gingrich's eventual decision to leave the House. A former TV mechanic held one of the most powerful politicians in the country accountable through the system's own rules, a fact that tells you something about the man.
After Congress, Jones leaned back into the role that made him famous. He opened at least three "Cooter's" country stores, in Nashville and Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and near his home in Virginia, selling memorabilia from the show, including items connected to the approximately 300 General Lee cars used and wrecked during the series' seven-season run.
The stores became gathering places for fans who never stopped loving the show. Jones understood something that eludes much of the entertainment industry: audiences don't forget the stories that made them feel something, and they'll drive hours to shake hands with the people who brought those stories to life.
Jones's death comes as the "Dukes of Hazzard" family continues to shrink. Just recently, Rick Hurst, who played the bumbling Deputy Cletus Hogg in 55 episodes, died unexpectedly at 79 in Los Angeles, one week before he was scheduled to appear at a fan event in Tennessee. Jones himself had announced Hurst's passing through the Cooter's Pigeon Forge Facebook page.
At the time, Jones mourned his castmate warmly. The New York Post reported Jones's tribute: "I have known Rick for over 45 years and there wasn't a minute of that time that he didn't leave me smiling or laughing." He called Hurst "a fine actor, a splendid comic, and a wonderfully supportive colleague."
Now it is Jones who is being remembered. Tom Wopat, who played Luke Duke opposite John Schneider's Bo for the show's entire run, posted a tribute on Instagram:
"Ben Jones was a fine friend and a fierce advocate of all the best things we can offer in the entertainment business. He will be sorely missed."
Jones was a man who climbed out of personal wreckage, found fame on a show that celebrated ordinary Americans, took that goodwill into public service, and never pretended to be anything other than what he was. In an era when authenticity is marketed but rarely delivered, he was the genuine article.
The good guys don't always win. But the ones worth remembering fight like they believe it.