Davy Jones’ Daughters: Our Father’s Important Legacy
THE MONKEES FRONT MAN LOVED TO JOKE AROUND, BUT HE TOOK HIS ROLE AS A FATHER VERY SERIOUSLY
One day in the early ’70s, Davy Jones’ eldest daughter had a unique revelation at the age of 5 during kindergarten recess in Santa Barbara, Calif. “A bunch of my schoolmates and my teacher rushed over to surround somebody, screaming wildly,” Talia, 48, tells Closer. “When I went to see what was going on, I saw my dad in the middle of it all. That was one of the first times I realized he was famous!”
Her father, of course, had starred in the TV show The Monkees from 1966 to 1968 and was a teen idol with millions of fans worldwide as part of the band of the same name. Nobody could ever be more enamored with Davy Jones, though, than the four girls to whom he was simply Dad: Talia, Sarah, Jessica and Annabel. “He very much wanted us to be women of the world — to be sophisticated and educated. It’s quite sweet,” Annabel, 28, tells Closer on the five-year anniversary of Davy’s death at age 66. “I realize how much he tried to empower us. He was really focused on that.”
ROCK ’N’ ROLL ROOTS
The girls had different moms (Sarah, 45, and Talia were from Davy’s first marriage to Linda Haines, and Jessica, 35, and Annabel were from his second wife, Anita Pollinger), but they all shared a close bond and a lot of great memories on their dad’s tours through the years. “Sometimes we’d be in a different place every day,” Annabel — the only singer in the bunch — says, “and all our rooms would be adjoining. We’d get into mischief and run bubble baths that would overflow or go swimming in the sea at midnight!”
Davy still managed to teach them many life lessons in between all of the fun. “He wasn’t strict, but he was definitely kind of old-fashioned in the sense that we had to respect our elders and be polite,” Annabel says. “He also had us learn how our cars worked so we could change a tire. He wanted us to know how to do things ‘like men would do,’ and I think that’s really powerful. He never wanted us to be at a disadvantage.”
He also urged them all to find their own voices. “He encouraged us to be outspoken. ‘Know your rights,’ he’d say all the time,” Annabel recalls. “The way things are in the world politically
these days, that lesson feels louder in my head than ever before.”
DAYDREAM BELIEVER
Davy found his own voice early, earning a Tony nod at 17 for his role as the Artful Dodger in Oliver! on Broadway. Two years later, he was thrust into superstardom when he landed his career-defining Monkees role, which led to years of touring. “Jimi Hendrix opened for the Monkees once,” Annabel says. “He was buddies with Paul McCartney. Private jets, the Beatles — that was normal life for him.”
A young dad at the peak of his career, Davy often worried about being away from home. “I have tried to balance my personal life and my professional life, and I feel guilty sometimes,” he once confessed, but he always did his best to stay connected to them all, even through his final years. “I’m well in touch with my children. I keep them on my answer phone, so if I want to hear one of their voices, all I have to do is punch it up and it will be there.”
His daughters just as easily call upon cherished memories of their father, reminiscing about how much of an entertainer he was in private. “He’d tell jokes all the time,” Annabel says. “Terrible jokes, but they were funny to me! He’d do impressions and funny walks, and just be silly. One time he teased me because I was a tomboy and I’d wear baggy boys’ trousers. I got upset, so he went and bought the same exact pair of shorts I was wearing. He came into my room asking, ‘What do you think of my trousers?’ He got me to laugh and made it all OK.”
That sense of humor always made Davy the life of the party, Annabel adds. “He really did have a sparkle in his eye, and even if he wasn’t feeling funny, he’d give you his best,” she says. Fellow Monkee Micky Dolenz agrees. “He was the big brother I never had,” he exclusively tells Closer of his beloved pal. “Every time I sing, I glance over my shoulder expecting to see him.”
His daughters still miss him terribly, too. In 2012, the same year he died of a heart attack, they founded the Davy Jones Equine Memorial Foundation to care for the herd of largely retired racehorses the lifelong horse enthusiast had rescued.
“Without sounding super cheesy, I think he’d probably say that his daughters were his biggest accomplishment,” Annabel says. “We’re all very independent, driven, outspoken girls — women now — and we’ve all forged our own paths. He always liked strong women, and he raised them. He’d feel that was a big achievement.”
— Ron Kelly, with reporting by Amanda Champagne-Meadows
and Jaclyn Roth