He was fearless, obstinate and a born "alpha" who never let the niceties of protocol get in the way of getting the job done.
It is to those qualities that hundreds of people who've been lost or in trouble in the North Shore mountains over the last 25 years probably owe their lives.
This week the North Shore is mourning Tim Jones, the longtime leader of North Shore Rescue, who died suddenly while returning from the team's Mount Seymour cabin on Sunday.
Jones, 57, had been at a social event at the cabin and was walking back to the parking lot with daughter Taylor and another member of North Shore Rescue when he reportedly said, "Hang on a minute" and collapsed.
Those at the scene started CPR immediately and paramedics, firefighters and members of North Shore Rescue raced to the scene. Jones was rushed to Lions Gate Hospital but doctors were unable to save him.
City of North Vancouver Fire Chief Dan Pistilli was one of the many first responders who knew Jones who raced to the hospital Sunday night.
Pistilli said fellow North Shore Rescue teammates and Jones' colleagues from the B.C. Ambulance Service were in shock at the news.
"It was tough to see them," he said. "It really hit home who it was."
Jones was remembered as a community hero this week.
"He was tenacious. He had a really strong will," said Doug Pope, spokesman for North Shore Rescue. "It helped in a rescue situation. When Tim was in control it made it easier to do our jobs."
Those who worked closely with Jones recalled his larger-than-life personality.
"What drove Tim was saving lives. He didn't let anything else get in his way," said Jeff Yarnold, who worked with Jones at North Shore Rescue for most of the past decade.
Jones worked a regular job as an advanced life support paramedic, but could usually be counted on to drop everything when someone was lost or in trouble and lead a team of experienced backcountry rescuers into often treacherous terrain.
During one of his first rescue operations, Jones was lowered from a helicopter into a ravine on Mount Seymour to rescue a hiker who'd fallen and injured himself. Years later, he spoke about the mixture of fear and adrenaline he felt when the helicopter was caught in a fog bank. When the rescue was finished, he was hooked.
John Blown worked with Jones on North Shore Rescue for 11 years, about half of that time on the technical long-line helicopter rescue team.
Jones and another team member were the first ones in when snowshoer Chris Morley fell 200 feet down a steep ice slope above Theta Lake on Mount Seymour in January 2007. Jones leaped out of the helicopter as darkness fell.
Blown and his advance team made it through with supplies the next day just as the rest of the rescue was called off due to treacherous conditions.
The men ended up spending two nights in a snow cave with the injured and hypothermic Morley while a storm howled around them. "We could hear the avalanches coming down around us," said Blown.
Both Blown and Yarnold were with Jones again when the North Shore Rescue team pulled off the highrisk rescue of snowshoer Sebastian Boucher on Cypress in December 2012.
"Everyone was pretty exhausted and we were starting to lose hope," said Blown. Then they got word that tracks had been spotted from the helicopter.
At the time, Jones was at his daughter's bedside in the hospital. Blown called him and said, "'We need you here.' "He ran down to the police station in Vancouver and said he needed to get to the North Shore for a rescue." Officers gave Jones an escort to the airport where the helicopter team picked him up, dropping him off in challenging conditions.
They were dropped off and "You're instantly up to your neck in snow," said Blown.
They set up ropes and began to rappel into the dark, eventually finding Boucher near the bottom of a 300-foot waterfall.
When the military chopper arrived to airlift the men to safety, Jones was "the last guy out."
Peter Murray of Talon Helicopters worked closely with Jones on rescues for the past two decades.
Jones was instrumental in getting long-line helicopter rescues approved by
Transport Canada, he said.
"He realized how much the helicopter helped with their work."
Jones did not take no for an answer, said Murray. "He didn't care about bureaucracy."
He'd say, "This is what we're doing and you're going to approve it. This has to be done or someone's going to die.'" Jones would usually assemble the team first and get authorization later, said Yarnold.
"If he followed the book there would be a lot of people who wouldn't be here today."
Jones was known for being sometimes tough on team members, calling them out in a dressing down he called "the shred."
The "shred" happened "if you did something stupid or unsafe," said Blown. "He made sure we were operating at the highest level at all times."
As a "triple A personality," Jones "went to 90 to 95 per cent of the calls, which was just insane," said Blown.
It wasn't uncommon for Jones to work a night shift as a paramedic, then go on a rescue call.
For Jones, helping people was "almost like a drug," said Murray. "It was all encompassing.. .. In a full platoon barrage way. Not in a Mother Teresa way."
"He was very passionate about what he was doing."
Being rescued by Jones wasn't always a comfortable experience either, said Yarnold, who was with Jones when the team rescued a snowshoer who had fallen about 100 feet off Hollyburn Peak one year. Partway through, the snowshoer started calling Jones "Dr. Evil," said Yarnold.
Frequently once an official search was called off, the team would continue unofficial searches as training exercises.
Jones spent much of his Christmas vacation searching for Tom Billings, the missing British tourist who disappeared on an ill-advised trek to Crown Mountain.
This week, Billings' parents expressed on social media their shock and sadness at Jones' death, calling Jones a "tower of strength" and "selflessly courageous."
Jones worked with North Shore Rescue for more than 25 years, participating in more than 1,600 rescues and becoming the face of the organization.
In 2011 he was awarded the Order of B.C. and in 2012 he was given an honourary doctorate by Capilano University.
On Monday B.C. Premier Christy Clark issued a statement saying, "Tim represented the North Shore and B.C. at our absolute best. He dedicated the best part of his life to helping people in the worst moment of theirs -Tim's North Shore Rescue team often meant the difference between life and death."
City of North Vancouver Mayor Darrell Mussatto, a friend of Jones and fellow paramedic, said Jones' death is a huge loss for the North Shore.
"Tim was an amazing guy. Huge. He did a tremendous amount of work in the community as a volunteer," said Mussatto. "We're still in shock."
Jones was Mussatto's instructor when he joined the B.C. Ambulance Service 30 years ago and the two remained friends.
Finding someone to take on all of Jones' responsibilities with North Shore Rescue will be a tremendous challenge, Mussatto said.
Pope said Monday the team is up to it. "The best way to honour Tim will be to ensure the team continues to serve the North Shore in a way that would make Tim proud."
Curtis Jones, Tim's son, described his father as "the best father any son or daughter could ask for."
Murray, who frequently spoke with Jones several times a day, said Jones could often predict when the mountains would beckon and calls would come in.
"The last thing Tim said to me on Sunday was 'I've got a feeling.. .'" said Murray.
A celebration of life is planned for noon on Saturday, Jan. 25 at Centennial Theatre in North Vancouver. Details are at northshorerescue.com.
A legacy fundraiser for North Shore Rescue has also been set up in Jones' honour at fundrazr.com.
Jones is survived by his wife Lindsay and two adult children, Taylor and Curtis, his mother Mary, sister Susan and brother Owen.
