Jones Kenner - The charming predator: the true story of how I fell in love with and married a sociopathic fraud

U ntil youve been duped by someone like Kenner Jones you think it could never happen to you. Thats what I thought, too.

This is the true story of how I met, fell in love with and married a man who, unbeknownst to me, was an impostera con man of great skill and outrageous audacity. As I eventually learned, he had been in and out of courts and prisons in Britain before I encountered him. His deceptions and criminal activities continued for decades after we split up.

Ask anyone whos met him and you will hear the same thing: Kenner is one of the most intelligent, charming, entertaining people they have ever come across. He is easy to like and easy to believe. I liked him. I believed him. Although there were clues, I did not clearly see his dark side until it was too late. He shattered me emotionally, psychologically and financially.

When I first met Kenner in 1979 while travelling in Wales, I was a strange combination of capable and inexperienced. On the one hand, I was studying broadcast journalism and honing my skills of observation and objectivity. On the other hand, I was unworldly and naive, the product of a small, rural, western Canadian community.

In my childhood home, what have since become nostalgic clichs were then just facts of life. It was a different time, a time when life was simple and direct. We never locked our doors. If we needed to borrow a cup of sugar and our neighbour wasnt home, wed just go in, get the sugar, leave a note on the tableand later return the sugar the same way. As children, we scampered through our community carefree and trusting. I cant remember anyone who faced each day saddled with a hefty load of skepticism.

This is not to say I had a perfect childhood. There were family problems, as there often are. The ones in mine left me with some deep emotional scarring that I only came to understand decades later. The young woman travelling through Wales was searching for her roots, soaking up the culture and beauty of the place. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was also wondering if Wales was where I could make a new start, dream my dreams and have them come true.

Initially I didnt envisage Kenner as part of my lifein fact, he didnt appeal to me on first acquaintance. But as he wove his web around me, I heard everything I wanted to hear, saw everything I wanted to see, believed all my dreams were possible. The journalist side of me, which could have helped me with better perception and reason, was not allowed to present its case. I know it wanted me to make an unbiased assessment of the information before me. But there was a lot at stake if I did. If I was wrong about Kenner and our life together, I would have to admit to poor judgment, and I would be picking up a hammer and shattering my own dreams. So I didnt look. I didnt challenge. I didnt take myself away to safety. I just hoped and prayed that it was all going to work out.

The first chapters of this book are based in part on the family history Kenners mother, Primrose, related to me when I first met her in the summer of 1979. I was just a traveller passing through her town, likely never to be seen again. I realize now I was the perfect listener for her. She could bare her soul, imagining I would forget everything as soon as I left Wales.

Ive always had an excellent memory and can easily recall details. When I think of her telling me about her life, I can still hear her voice.

Although I have invented much of Primroses direct speech, the details of personalities and places are true to her telling, as are her emotions as she described them. Her personality, in equal measures feisty and soft, was still shining through when I knew her.

The stories of Kenners early years come from events as Primrose told them to me. Again, I invent conversations and some details, but the bones of the stories are true. It wasnt difficult to place Kenner as a child in a home rife with rules and friction.

Kenners Doomsday Book was once in my possession, but I now have only photocopies of a few pages. I loaned the book to someone who was going to do a psychological analysis of itbut who never returned it. If youre reading this now, Id like it back.

My name may need some clarification. In my childhood, my family called me Donna Lee. As a teenager, I was simply Donna. When I went into broadcasting, I started going by Lee, and still do. I answer to them all! When Kenner and I met, I was Donna, but he never used that namehe always called me Don. His father was John Elias Jones. His mother, when she married John, became Primrose Elias Jones. For a brief time, I duly became Donna Lee Elias Jones.

Kenners names are even more numerous than mine. Although I called him Kenner, most people simply used Ken. In what can only be a continuing effort to slip through the world without leaving traces, his name has appeared in many variations and inventions. So in addition to Kenner Elias Jones, he has styled himself Elias Jones, Ken Jones, Kenner Jones, Ken Elias Jones, Kenwyn Jones, Kenner Merddyn (Welsh for Merlin) Jones, Kenner Hawkins (Hawkins was Primroses maiden name), Kenner Hager (the surname of his second wife), Kenner Hawkins Hager, Kenner Ngeiwo (a name he apparently gave himself in Kenya) and Kenner or even Kenneth Ngeiwo Hawkins. I am under no illusions that this is a complete list. Also, he has found many creative ways to present himself, posing variously and entirely falsely as a medical doctor, a deacon, a priest and a philanthropist.