Ivy May Gomez Although I never knew my grandmother’s sister, Ivy May Gomez , I had often heard loving recollections about her from my father. Aunt Ivy seemed to have been a very special person who was not only extraordinarily kind and thoughtful, but also very talented. She was born to Joseph and Christina Pereira in 1897, the sixth child in the family of nine. Ivy was born in Queen's Street, in the town of Arima, Trinidad. At the time, her father Joseph worked at Millers Stores Ltd. as a clerk, according to her birth certificate. Later, the family moved to Sangre Grande. Sadly, Ivy lost her father when she had just turned 13 years old. According to the records, Joseph Gomez died of Cerebral Apoplexy (Stroke) at his home in Sangre Grande on the 31st December, 1910. He was only 47 years old, leaving Christina a widow at the young age of 44. I can only imagine the terrible shock and loss his children and wife suffered. The funeral left from the residence of Alfred Mendes, where just a year earlier the whole family had been celebrating the marriage of Ivy's sister Elsie Mabel to Charles Sheppard . Elsie and Charles were my grandparents. Twelve years later, tragedy and sadness once again struck the Gomez family. On 6th October 1922, Ivy's older sister, Audrey died in Grenada at the young age of 33, during childbirth with her son George. Left alone with a four-and-a-half year old boy and an infant son to raise, her husband Louis Franco sent George's older brother Wilfred to his aunt Ivy in Trinidad. By then, Ivy lived in Port of Spain with her widowed mother Christina Gomez, and together they provided a loving home and motherly care for Wilfred. George was sent to his father's maiden sister, Louise Franco, in Grenada who also lovingly raised the young boy at the home where she lived with her parents, John and Clementine Franco. His grandfather John Franco was a successful wine merchant and lived above his shop on Halifax Street in St. Georges, where he owned several other properties. From the records we know that Ivy accompanied her sister-in-law, Jessie Gomez, (George's wife) on a trip to Scotland after the birth of their second child, also named Joseph. Her travel dates were 29th July 1927 - 11th November 1927 and on her return voyage, her occupation was listed as Cashier. "Perhaps she was once again helping to look after the children," suggests Jessie Tamas Hendry, Ivy's great-niece. Ivy and Jessie's grandmother stayed in touch through letters. Jessie said that she knows from one of Ivy's letters to her Grandma that she was interested in our family history. In one letter of February 1973 Ivy wrote: "I hope one day to try to find out Grandma Pereira's maiden name if the books have not been damaged in the riot of 1908. Not all of them were. But the Red House is another dangerous spot and the administration is awful. The greatest carelessness exists and documents are being sold on or left lying about in a neglected way." (Photo courtesy Brian Franco) Wilfred (about 11), Ivy, their pet Jinks and Grandma Christina Gomez née Pereira taken in their garden around 1928/1929. The chimney in the background was located on the Port of Spain wharf. Ivy would have been about 32 and her mother about 63. (Photo courtesy Brian Franco) The home Ivy shared with her mother and nephew Wilfred at 64 A Wrightson Road, Woodbrook, Port of Spain, Trinidad. During her lifetime, Ivy wrote well over a hundred poems, several of which she had published in a book in 1972. In a letter to her sister-in-law Jessie Gomez dated 5th July, 1973, she wrote about what must have truly been one of the highlights of her life: "Two days ago a soirée was arranged for me to have my poems read by tape-recording at St. Ann’s Church Hall. Mr. Cameron, so good, had set them to soft background music of an orchestra of 101 strings. That is a wonderful record. People of both St. Ann’s and Greyfriars churches were invited and poor little Ivy feeling like if it was her wedding day set off with an elegant hairdo. I wanted to sit sideways but Mr. Cameron said he would like me to take a bow before they start, as some may not know me, and another bow at the end. But Miss Rawle, the lady in charge, would not let me move from the front but sit facing the audience near a little table. The function was well attended and got off to a start with Mr. Cameron playing all suitable poems to suit the audience. Many of the Geddes Grant family attended. Sir Lindsay Grant, K.I., O.B.E. T.C. and Lady Grant. His sister, Mrs. Forbes and sister-in-law Mrs. Willard Grant. I said a few words while taking a bow. "Thanks so much for coming. I may say like the erstwhile abdicated King Edward of England that at long last I am giving you some poems. My heart the violin - and my lips the bow.” Well, they were all thrilled with the poems and Sir Lindsay was very, very impressed and gave a long note of thanks. When it was over, all the ladies and Maurice Brash and Boysie deluged me with kisses. I could not wash my face that night." Ivy gave an autographed copy of her book of poems "Roses in the Rain" to her nephew George Franco who lived in Grenada. The book was passed down to George's daughter Jenny, who has kindly shared its precious pages. Particularly touching is her poem " Farewell to the Sangre Grande Train". The Trinidad Government Railway existed between 1876 and 28 December 1968 and was originally built to connect Port of Spain with Arima. After the railways shut down permanently in 1968, Ivy wrote this poignant poem which was was published in the Trinidad Guardian on 1st January, 1969. The poem recalls her sadness when, as an eight year old, she had to wave goodbye to her mother from the platform when she returned to their home in Sangre Grande, leaving her behind in Port of Spain for schooling. “Mother goodby”, my heart did cry, For I could only stand and sigh While whistle’s hoot did bear her home And I wished soon again, she’d come You see, for then I was aged eight Not grown to womanhood’s estate To go to school in town I must Though for this cause my heart was crushed.” This, and several other poems describe her surroundings, experiences and feelings, growing up in Trinidad in a gentler era, now bygone. She recalls tender memories of her father and childhood home. Her writings and observations are, in fact, a wonderful time capsule as seen through her eyes. Click on the cover below to open the book and step back in time into Ivy's world through her poetic expressions. "Roses in the Rain" A collection of Poems by Ivy Gomez Ivy stayed abreast of current affairs and was inspired to write poems on memorable occasions. On 9 -11 February 1966, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh visited Trinidad & Tobago. Ivy wrote a poem of welcome for them, and the following article appeared in the Trinidad Mirror newspaper on 13 March, 1966. This article about her "Poem to an Emperor" was published the following month in "Evening Hours" dated 15th April, 1966. Ivy May Gomez "Taken in the early 1970's. Aunt Ivy came to Grenada to attend the wedding of Jennifer Hosten , who was Miss World 1970. The picture was taken in the backyard of the Great House in L'anse Aux Epines. She was all dolled up for the wedding. Jennifer had previously paid a visit to Trinidad and Aunt Ivy managed to get through the crowd and presented her with a poem I think it was, so she was then invited to the wedding." - Jenny McNamara Franco Vincent Gomez Ivy's brother Vincent Gomez, taken at the Pereira Studio in Tuscon, Arizona (Photo restoration using AI) In her later years, Ivy shared a home with her brother Vincent Gomez at 132 Wrightson Road, Port of Spain. There the siblings ran a photo studio named The Rite Studio. Vin had previously spent considerable time with his two uncles John and Joseph Pereira who had immigrated to America and had a well-known photography business - Pereira Studios - in Tuscon Arizona. It was there that young Vin developed his love for photography and received training in the business. Vin worked as a photographer with Pereira Studios for several years, In 1932 he became a naturalized American citizen in Tuscon, Arizona where he continued to work in the family's photography business, as Pereira Studios continued to operate even after the death of his uncle, Joseph Pereira, in 1936. Records show that having first left Trinidad for the USA in 1913 when he was just 19 years old, he finally returned to his island home from America in 1951 when he was 58 years old. Several family members of my generation recall childhood memories of having their photos taken by Uncle Vin at the Rite Studio. Said Jenny McNamara: "Uncle Vin had a tripod with a cloth. He would go under the cloth then come out and jump up and down to make us smile." Unfortunately, both Ivy and Vin became deaf in their latter years. Vincent died on 14 November 1963 when he was 70 years old and Ivy passed away in 1976 at age 78. Neither of them married and left behind no children. Ivy lived a life of caring for others, and we are grateful for the memories left behind in her very own words of poetry. Her story needed to be told. I wish I'd known Aunt Ivy and Uncle Vin - what stories they could have told. Many Thanks to Jessie Tamas Hendry, Brian Franco, Jenny McNamara Franco and other family members for their valued contributions to this story. ~ Valerie Sheppard 30 September, 2020

George Vincent Gonsalves husband of Mary Marjorie (Madge) Sheppard In Memoriam VIN GEORGE VINCENT GONSALVES 13th July, 1914 to 4th September, 1988 A Tribute written on 4th October, 1988 by my father, Andrew D. Sheppard (transcribed from personal family memorabilia) Vin bore the hallmark and stature of the perfect gentleman. I shall never forget his first visit to our family home, obviously to court our beautiful sister, Marjorie (Madge) . One must have had great courage and love to confront such a large group for the first time – 12 brothers and sisters and our mother. But Vin did it and with great success. Vin’s brothers and sister and himself had recently arrived from Antigua to settle in Trinidad. On this momentous occasion, Vincent Gonsalves conducted himself so diplomatically and with such good manners that he was accepted by all of us instantly. When he shook my hand, on being introduced, he said, “Andrew, I am delighted to meet you and hope we will see a lot of each other”. I was only 14 years of age and a shy and unsure No. 10 in our family. Vin made me feel like an equal. Therein lay his talent. Vin was very proper in his general appearance and his speech was flawless. He resembled a famous English film star of the period, Leslie Howard. If he so desired, he could have become a famous actor. He had the good looks and decorum. But Vin’s ambitions lay elsewhere. He wooed and married beautiful Marjorie (he never called her otherwise). They enjoyed marital bliss for 48 years until that very sad day whence was called to greater service on 4th September, 1988, at the age of 74, at the home of their daughter, Virginia Ryan and her husband, in Miami, Florida, U.S.A. We all grieve his loss and remember Vin fondly for all the good he had done during his stewardship on earth. Vin worked with Esso, an American Oil Company, in their accounting department, and rose to the position of Comptroller of accounts for the Caribbean area. His employment took Vin, Madge and their three children to reside in Santo Domingo, Cuba and Miami, where he finally retired to reside with his wife and family. This, apart from an initial spell of duty in Trinidad. Vin was highly regarded by his employers, who depended on his utter reliability. All of his employees and business acquaintances and friends regarded him with respect and endearment. On his last foreign assignment as Chief Accountant for Esso in Havana, Cuba, Vin, Madge and their three children were among the huge crowd to welcome and congratulate their new leader, the victorious Fidel Castro, when he arrived at the Havana waterfront on the famous boat “Granma”. Meticulous Vin, who kept detailed records of certain events, also had a comprehensive library of home movies which included his 16 millimeter movie recording of that memorable occasion, which clearly shows George, Virginia, Douglas and of course, Fidel Castro. I saw this movie at their Miami home. However, it was soon afterwards that Mr. Castro declared his real intentions of transforming Cuba into a communist state. Panic set in. All who could, left hurriedly – for Miami. Vin sent his family, excepting George, to Miami to await his arrival there. George offered to stay with his daddy, which was very good; but this is called love. Noble Vincent gallantly decided to remain in Cuba to try to complete his job as chief of Esso’s office. You see, Castro had ordered his army to confiscate all American and foreign property – but why make the transition easy. After shipping most vital information in files, etc., to Miami, it was decided to destroy all remaining records. This Vin did. All the Cubans got was confetti and ‘shreddies’. Vin and George had to run for their lives and caught one of the last flights from Havana to Miami. This was the kind of stuff of which Vin was made. Vin was Roman Catholic and Marjorie, Presbyterian. They were married at the Roman Catholic Sacred Heart Church in Port of Spain on 14th September, 1940. According to the dictates of the Church, their children had to be instructed in the Catholic religion. This was accomplished without discord and with understanding and love. They were a beautiful family. Both parents were strict, loving and mostly, caring, not only for themselves but for others less fortunate or in need. Acts of Christianity and charity simply flowed from the hearts and minds of Vin and Madge. For example, when my wife and I were faced with a financial embarrassment in our early married life, it was Vin who came to the rescue, unsolicited. He only heard of it and promptly dispatched an envelope to me containing $100.00, which saved the day. With it came a note stating simply “Glad to be of some help, old boy. Forget repayment – just stop worrying.” Was not that wonderful and extremely kind? How could anyone forget someone like Vin? Vin and Madge made many fast friendships all over the world and whenever any of their friends visited their home they just knew they were welcome. Vin was always the gracious host and Marjorie the wonderful hostess. They were a great couple. Vin possessed an aura of goodness that shone through. What he spoke was truth. Whatever he promised was fulfilled. Love ruled the day – each and every day. When poor Madge began to be affected by the serious problems of her cardio-vascular system, which necessitated intensive e-care treatment and surgery on her heart, her beloved husband was always at her side, praying with her and encouraging her. A most faithful and loyal person he was. In her delicate state of health, Vincent had, and accepted, the great responsibility for Marjorie’s care, treatment, diet and mobility, without complaining. Vin very conscientiously attended to her every need and they always tried to be pleasant in company, in spite of their constantly stressful situation. Vin and Marjorie were encouraged and persuaded by Virginia Ryan, their daughter, to give up by sale or rental, their lovely home on a lake, and to live with her husband and herself in an apartment within their home, which would comfortably accommodate them. This was gratefully accepted by the two senior citizens, who were glad to be with their daughter. Things to be considered included the fact that they would be leaving their love-nest of many years where they were quite happy. And who would go twice or more daily to call and talk to and feed the fish in the lake? They really knew Vin and poked their heads out of the water in the lake next to their house and made fish noises – and he would feed them. And the birds – they arrived right next to him and chirped and whistled happily. He was their friend. I witnessed this scene time after time and it was the same incredible happening. But, if you knew Vin, it was easy to understand. God knows, he was a very special person. Less than one week after removing to Virginia’s home, Vin suffered a heart attack and was rushed to hospital where he was kept for a week and returned home. Two weeks later, Vincent suffered a fatal heart attack and died at Virginia’s home. I recently received a friendly note from Vin informing us of their new address. Vin never got the chance to mail it. All of their friends and family were to have received such a friendly note. We must never question the works of God Almighty. In retrospect, when one remembers that Vincent Gonsalves entered and was immediately accepted by our large, complicated but friendly family, it could better be appreciated that Vin always had that rare gift of being able to relate to and mix well with persons of all ages and types, which must have been a far different scene to his former Antiguan environment. But he made so many friends so easily and there was always mutual respect. During their early married life in Port of Spain, accommodation was scarce and so was food. It was a challenging time, but they succeeded and produced three lovely children, George, Virginia and Douglas, who are married – George living in Canada and the other two in U.S.A. Vin was an ardent oarsman and enjoyed rowing his boat and sailing, as well as fishing. He soon was called “Nautical Vincent” – a term of endearment. He loved healthy habits and took his daily choice of vitamin pills. This attracted another nickname ‘ “Vitabs”. All of this Vin endured or enjoyed with good humour, of which he was adequately endowed. He knew that we all loved him and admired him for his great spirit and excellent qualities. All good things and people must end but what we must remember is that we are on loan to prepare ourselves for membership of the Divine Club and when we are called to join that Blessed Band of Angels, we must go. We pray that our dear, kind, Vincent is at peace, as he so well deserves. Madge, George, Virginia and Douglas, accept our deepest sympathy and emulate Vin’s sterling example. Andrew Sheppard (Brother-in-law) Barbados – 4th October, 1988 Tribute to Vin written by his son, George Gonsalves 13 July, 2021 Vin and Madge Gonsalves née Sheppard with their children Virginia, George (centre) and Douglas April 1953 Our Dad, George Vincent (“Vin”) Gonsalves was born on the 13th July 1914 in the Great House at Marble Hill, near St. John’s, Antigua. He was the third child and second son of Planter, George Reginald (“Reggie”) Gonsalves and Adele Matilda Harris, the first to be born in Antigua. His elder siblings were both born in Jamaica, as was his mother. Dad attended Antigua Grammar school until he was ten, when dark clouds changed the family’s life drastically. Our grandfather sold one commodity, cane sugar and he dealt with Redpath Sugar Company in Montreal. He had a sister, Sarah Mildred, in Montreal. Her husband, Reggie’s brother-in-law, António Rodrigues Anjo, appears to have handled some of his business there. In the early 1920’s. cane sugar became a depressed commodity. Beet sugar was produced cheaper than cane sure could be. Cane sugar production was very labour intensive. The two family estates ran up huge debts. Then disaster happened, Reggie died in 1924. Our grandmother had no business experience and, with the help of her brother-in-law, had to liquidate the estates for little or nothing in return. Adele decided to move to Trinidad with her five children. Life was not easy for them, but they were able to survive on little,. The depression started early for them. By 1931, the eldest of my father’s siblings, Mary Louise, married a wealthy Venezuelan and went to live in Caracas. At this time, Adele, our grandmother became ill with cancer. In those days, this disease was considered to be a curse, and people treated her as though she were a leper. By then, her second son, Stanley, was hired to work in a lime estate in Montserrat. I am not sure what his function there was. After school and on Saturdays, Dad worked for Canning’s as a messenger delivering groceries. He was also responsible for assisting with the upbringing of his younger brothers Herbert and Patrick. Adele died in January 1933 and the remaining children were split up. Dad went to live with the family of Suzanne Ferreira on Belmont Circular Road and completed his education, having signed up for an accounting course in which he excelled. His younger brothers went to the Martin family. By 1937, Dad was proficient enough to obtain a job with Esso in their accounting department. He was earning enough to strike out on his own the next year and rented a room at our Grandma Sheppard’s Boarding House on Richmond Street in Port of Spain. At this time, he was also supporting his two younger brothers. Dad soon became closely involved with his adopted family. The affection they had for one another always impressed him. He loved Grandma and called her Ma. (He always referred to his own parents as “Father” and “Mother.”) He provided guidance to Uncle Andrew and my mother once said that Dad “put Andrew in long pants.” If you have not done so, you must read Uncle Andrew’s beautiful eulogy and biography of my father. Of course, it was here that my parents met and fell in love. They were married on 14 September 1940. Dad had a long career at Esso (Standard Oil Company of New Jersey) Caribbean. He had a troubleshooting job and travelled throughout the operation from Bermuda, the Bahamas, Puerto Rico to British Guiana and Suriname. In 1953, Esso decided to move him to Santo Domingo (then called Ciudad Trujillo, named after the dictator. Rafael Leónidas Trujillo Molina), which was more central to the area than Trinidad was. In 1956, he was promoted to the ESSOSA head office in Havana, where we lived for four years, until the company was intervened by the Castro government. In 1960, we moved to Coral Gables, FL, where Dad remained until he retired and subsequently passed away. Dad would have been 107 years old today. He was an amazing gentleman, a perfect husband and father and he was everybody’s friend. He was generous to a fault. We love him and miss him today and always. It is thirty-three years since he left us and there are still occasions when I wish I could pick up the phone and talk to him. Rest in Peace, Dad.

Audrey Ethel Gomez and her husband Louis Conrad Franco John Franco (1860-1942) at his home in Halifax Street, St. Georges, Grenada (Photo courtesy of his granddaughter Jenny Franco McNamara) My great-aunt Audrey Ethel Gomez was born at the family home in Belmont, Laventille, Port of Spain, Trinidad on 3 June 1889. She was just a year younger than her sister, my grandmother Elsie (Gomez) Sheppard , and was the second child in a family of nine children. Her parents Joseph and Christina (Pereira) Gomez were living in Sangre Grande with their family when Audrey married a handsome Grenadian, Louis Franco. My grandparents Charles and Elsie (Gomez) Sheppard hosted their wedding reception at their home in Port of Spain. Grandma Elsie was the eldest of the Gomez family, and was at the time seven months pregnant with their fifth child, John. Their father Joseph Gomez had died of a stroke six years earlier when he was only 47, and so the duties of fath er-giver fell to Albert Mendes. Albert was not only a close family friend, he was married to Mary Antoinette (Marykin) Pereira, Christina's sister and the bride's aunt. He was also my grandmother's godfather. He and Marykin had hosted my grandparents' wedding reception at their own home seven years earlier. The newly-wed Franco couple honeymooned at Santa Charlotte Estate, Manzanilla - a cocoa estate owned by Albert's brother, Alfred Mendes. The newspaper of the day carried an article about their marriage which took place on 15 June, 1916 at St. Ann's Presbyterian Church. The Franco and Gomez families were to become even more connected, when on 10 August 1916, just two months after Audrey's and Louis' marriage, Audrey's brother Joseph Gomez wed Louis' sister Caroline Franco in Grenada! According to the newspaper article above, Joseph had performed the duties of bestman at his sister's wedding. Audrey and Louis happily settled into married life in St. Georges, Grenada where Louis ran his wholesale provision business. His father John Franco was a successful and wealthy wine merchant who owned several properties including a hotel called The Halifax Inn in St. Georges. Family stories relate that John owned twenty-five buildings in the town of St. George and that his nickname was "30,000" - he made that much selling wine! In his day, he was considered the wealthiest person in Grenada - so it is said. Louis' mother was Clementine Pace, a lady with roots in Malta. It is remarkable that she owned and ran a bakery next door to their Halifax Street home, although she was the mother of ten children! Two years after their marriage, Audrey and Louis welcomed their firstborn child, Wilfred Louis Franco. But tragedy and grief was to strike just six years into their marriage. The beautiful Audrey died in childbirth with her second son George, when she was only thirty-two years old. The entire family was devastated. Louis was left to care for their four year old son Wilfred and infant George - how would he ever manage? Family came to the rescue. Louis remarried, but it seemed that the situation with the little ones and their stepm other was an unhappy one. The family relates that my grandfather Charlie Sheppard went to Grenada and returned to Trinidad with young Wilfred. It had been arranged that Audrey's younger sister Ivy Gomez would take care of him. Ivy was single, and lived with her widowed mother Christina. Nurtured by these two loving women, Wilfred grew up in Trinidad, where he lived for the rest of his life. In Grenada, little George was embraced into the Franco home in Halifax street where Louis' maiden sister Louise became his foster mother. Family members recall that she affectionately called him “my boy Georgie” and that they lived in the attic. Her sister Agnes and her three children - Monica, Gordon and Audrey - also lived with their father John in the Halifax Street family home, as her husband had died young. As was often the custom in those days, the Franco family shop occupied the bottom floor, and their home was above, with large windows overlooking the street. My father visited his family there and related a hair-raising experience they had at Morne Jaloux . In "The Autobiography of Alfred H. Mendes, 1897–1991", Alfie recounts: "We stayed with my father’s first cousin on his father’s side, John Franco, and his large family of girls, two or three of my age. The family lived in a spacious house in St. George’s, as quaint a little town as I have ever seen. The atmosphere was quiet, peaceful, benign ". He also describes a fire that took place in Clementine Franco's bakery at Easter time. Alfie's stepmother was Leanora (Lea) Franco, another of John Franco's daughters and Audrey Gomez's sister-in-law. All colourful tales of intertwined families and their dramas - I'm sure that there are many more of these, just waiting to be told. l/r George and Wilfred Franco (Photo courtesy George's granddaughter Jenny Franco McNamara) Copy of Audrey's Birth Certificate The children of Audrey Gomez and Louis Franco Click here for the story of JOSEPH GOMEZ and his wife CAROLINE GWENDELINE FRANCO Many Thanks to Jenny (Franco) McNamara, Audrey (Franco) and her sister Audrey (Franco) Aboud, Jessie (Hendry) Tamas, and other family members for their valued contributions to this story. Valerie Sheppard ~ 14 August, 2021

Hurricane Janet, Barbados 22nd September 1955 Told by my great-grandmother "Raeburn", Hastings - the enclosed gallery faced the front yard and coast road. All the bedrooms overlooked the beach and sea. My great-grandmother was Lillian Lobo, wife of Isaac Clement Lobo. In 1955 she was almost 83 years old, a widow. She lived on the south coast of Barbados in a house called "Raeburn", situated on the beach side of Hastings, a short distance away from the Ocean View Hotel and other Barbadian residences - all of which have now been demolished. At the foot of this page I have included a link to family photos of the old family home. Granny Lobo, as we called her, was the mother of ten children, several of whom had immigrated to the USA. She wrote to her youngest daughter Freida in America about her experience and feelings when Hurricane Janet hit the island. In the letter she tells that Frank, her son who lived in Trinidad, came to visit and help her. She writes about how her granddaughter Marylin is affected by the hurricane. Marylin is her son Frank's daughter who was staying with her at the time. The handwritten letter is a treasured family keepsake. Raeburn, Hastings Nov 6th 1955 My dear Freida, This is a very long overdue letter but I know you will understand, I have been through such a terrible ordeal for my age, what with the storm and a few days after we had a downpour of rain and the roof poured like a tap turned on. I lost my nerve and had a hearty cry. The hoods to the windows blew off and broke the Everite of the roof and glass window. They went in Miss Chandler’s yard. Crowds of shingles blew off, gutter-heads, down pipes all blew down and broke. The downstairs door - the break water iron and big stones dashed against the door and broke it open and the sea all came in. We did not have light for eleven days, only 2 lamps and torches. No telephone, the well to the toilets all filled up with sand and choked one. I had to pay $15.00 to 2 men to clear it. I had to put on 16 bundles of shingles. I had 3 workmen for 4 weeks from one thing to the other, but it could have been worse. The church got hit the hardest, I believe 5 out of every 6 houses were flat, thousands are homeless. Plenty of nice new houses in Marine Gardens the roofs came off and the people had to run for shelter. You remember Kenneth and Reyland Davis’s house Santa Neta opposite The Rocks, well that has only the 4 walls standing. They had to run next door, lost everything. Frank came over to see what had happened to us 2 days after, because no planes were flying during that time. He stood a day and a half and brought over plenty groceries for me knowing we may have been short and he said the water came to his eyes coming over the island to see the houses flat. He would not even go any further he said his nerves wouldn’t stand it. All the beautiful trees blown down and the leaves scorched. We are all bare now. If it had have lasted 1/2 hour longer our gallery roof started to lift. The wind was 125 miles an hour. Outside sounded just like a lot of cats howling. Poor little Marilyn threw up 3 times for the day. And then trees across the streets, telephone posts . . . Kenneth and Reyland Davis’s house "Santa Neta" opposite The Rocks "Raeburn" - Lobo Family home on the coast line of Hastings, Christ Church, Barbados from 1914 - 1963 Click here to view family photos of RAEBURN

"Look Out!" (THOUGHTS) Written in January 1988 by my father, Andrew Desmond Sheppard (1922-1991) (transcribed from personal family memorabilia) Unemployment, drug abuse, Severance payments - retrenchment, bankruptcy, receivership, ad infinitum. A whole new world of negative words which confront other words such as entrepreneurship, productivity, ambition, learning skills, honesty, dedication, sacrifice and effort. As a boy growing up, job opportunities were scarce and yet no one was unemployed. After school we all went out and played or cycled or walked or swam or socialized and visited the old relatives and the sick. When we wanted to see a movie, we had to work for it. Tend the chickens or goats, wash the dog, clean the yard, go on errands, clean the family plot in the cemetery. We really earned and appreciated our rewards. This work ethic grew with us. When we got jobs, we worked hard and well. Time did not matter. It was getting the job done which was important. We worked together and always helped each other. That created friendship and goodwill. Security and protection existed in our hearts and minds - not in padlocks, triple door-locks, wrought-iron grilles, security alarms, security guards, armed policemen, squad cars and all the paraphernalia to protect human life and property. We loved and cared for each other and crime as we know it was virtually non-existent. Everyone was employed. There were the milk-men or women. Home-made bread deliveries - early morning. Knife and scissors sharpeners, shoe-makers, tailors, dress-makers, joiners, carpenters, painters, gardeners, motor-mechanics, car polishers. Yard boys, domestic servants, cooks - all employed. Shop-keepers at every corner, each shop a community centre. Happiness, simplicity, Christianity - we had it all. We have grown away from those “backward” days. We now have educators instead of school teachers, students instead of school boys and girls, sanitary engineers instead of garbage men, soil engineers instead of grave diggers. Sales assistants instead of clerks, administrative assistants instead of office clerks, domestic assistants in place of servants and yard boys. Course after course is offered and given to the working public. Seminars, working sessions et al, all geared to try and improve the output of the individual, may have a beneficial effect on the populace, but I doubt it. You may lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink it. Politicians and educators concentrate their efforts on passing blame and creating hatred in the minds of the people. Youth leaders are strongly advised to try and remove all doubt of the future by offering ideas and plans for increased productivity. We have more " learned counsels" than the law should allow. So few vets, it’s a shame. Our hospital abounds with foreign doctors. Foreigners have taken over. Swan and Roebuck are working towards a complete take-over of Broad Street. The South Coast hotels are owned by foreigners. While you are licking your wounds and pitying your state, others from far away are swallowing up your birth-right. Now you are thinking of getting rid of Hilton and Heywoods. Madness! Do not do it. Suggestions for the salvation of our society and economy: Remove personal income tax. Receipts do not justify the huge expense of collection with all the attendant hardship of the tax payers. Non-productive. Remove unemployment benefits as a policy and right of each individual. Let him prove that he can not get or make a job. This benefit only encourages laziness and is counter-productive. Use the media, especially television and radio to instill in the minds of everyone, especially the youth, that this is their land. Air the national anthem more regularly. When it is being played on TV, have it sung by the best youth choir with the lyrics shown on the screen. NATIONAL PRIDE. All schools and public institutions should proudly display the National flag of Barbados. Remember, you look up to a flag. Insist on standards. Behaviour in schools, after school. Behaviour in public places of entertainment. Dress by visitors and locals alike must be monitored by the population and the errant individual corrected. Churches, especially one, must be blamed for the deterioration of dress and conduct in and out of Church. Coincidentally, the standard of sermons has fallen also.Inspiration is lost. Rebuild loyalty in private enterprise by offering greater incentives to staff. Offer smaller salaries and large bonus at year-end, based on results. Everyone works harder and better for the carrot at the end of the year. It used to work well and no one ever wanted to leave. Job security, I would say. Expose all drug pushers and give them the maximum punishment according to the law. Recruit student drug-sniffers who will report the incidence of drugs in schools. Offenders must be exposed and expelled. Abate fear. People who run scared cannot produce. Sample: “Pay your bill before the 20th or you will be disconnected - witness the huge rush at that company on the 20th. You have 20 days to correct this condition otherwise the full weight of the law will fall upon you. Try, through the media to improve the feeling that permeates the population that “big brother is watching you” See what it does to huge countries like Russia and America. Fear has demolished the workers' unions in the USA. Workers are finding now, that they must take what they can get. The stuffing and fight of the individual is being destroyed. Foreign take-over of industry threatens the individual citizen. Do not let it happen here. Over there it takes longer because of the size and huge population. Here it can happen overnight. Stop CNN morning news. Irrelevant and its content is usually uninteresting - finance, weather reports, etc. It is also making people late for work. The influence of reported grift, bribery, violent crimes and drug crimes will take its toll here. Go back to local TV and make participation more inviting to the talent of this wonderful land. We are blessed and fortunate that natural catastrophies do not befall us. Praise God and make the best of it - whatever is your lot. Sincerely, SENTINEL SEE ALSO: ANDREW DESMOND SHEPPARD

Lobo & St. Hill Families - Barbados ~ A Memoir ~ Lobo and St. Hill families, circa 1925 l/r back row: Colin Lobo, Garnet St.Hill, Isaac Clement Milton Lobo, Frank Lobo, Arthur Lobo. l/r middle row: Carmen Lobo (seated), behind her Freida Lobo, Esmee (Lobo) St. Hill with baby Betty St. Hill, Lillian (Boyle) Lobo, Hilda Lobo, Thelma St. Hill l/r front: Clem St. Hill, Harry St. Hill Penned by Jimmy Lawless July 8, 2011 This story was sent to me by Elizabeth Cole née Lawless, who lives in Barbados. It was written by her uncle Jimmy Lawless. Elizabeth's family and the St. Hill and Lobo family shared many family occasions, as is described in this affectionately written memoir. Dolly Lawless née Atkinson was Elizabeth's grandmother. Ivy was one of Dolly's sisters. Our families also share another connection not mentioned: Elizabeth's aunt Sylvia Boxill married my uncle Louis St. Hill, my mother's brother. Colin Lobo was my great-uncle, my maternal grandmother's brother. Dolly (Kathleen) Lawless’ sister, Ivy Atkinson, married Colin Lobo in the early 1930’s and so the Lawless and Lobo families were brought together by marriage. Colin and Ivy Lobo - 25 Nov 1933 The Lobo's home "Raeburn" is the large yellow house. Below is a photo of it from the roadside. Unfortunately, this lovely Bajan family home that held so many memories was sold has since been demolished. The Lobos lived at “Raeburn” on the sea-side of the Hastings Road about 200 yards west of the Hastings Rocks. From memory, the family consisted of the parents, Mr.& Mrs. Lobo and several children. The names I remember are: Colin, Frank and Arthur (better known as “Shortie” or “Pepper”) and Esmee, Freida, Hilda and Carmen. They were all of an out-going and friendly character and all enjoyed a good party. Their love of a good party was regularly satisfied by parties given by Colin and Ivy at their home “Windmark” in Harts Gap. There was always a Christmas dinner with a large table filling the drawing room from which all the furniture had been removed to accommodate the very large table at which the Lobo, St.Hill and Lawless families were seated. There were other parties during the year which did not involve a sit-down meal, but were what were called “cocktail” parties. The guests were drawn from a wide spectrum of Colin’s friends. These included many of the horse-racing fraternity, including some of the English jockeys who were then the elite jockeys in Barbados. These included Edgar Crossley and his wife who were regular, and Thirkell. My mother, Betty St. Hill at 15 with her cousin Denis Hart and his fiancée Gloria The drinks flowed freely, and the “itals” were the best bouchees, patties, stuffed eggs, sandwiches and other goodies which were standard fare at the best cocktail parties. I do not remember (my brother) David being at these parties and I believe he stayed with Miss Edith Hutson while Tony and I were allowed to tag along. We did our fair share of gorging on the eats! Harry St.Hill and his cousin, Norman Hart, who were teenagers, used to cheat and hit a few of the cocktails before the butlers left the kitchen area with the trays of drinks! They were not supposed to drink any alcoholic drinks, but somehow they sometimes became somewhat unsteady on their feet before the party was over. After the Christmas dinner was over, the music started. It was then that the musical talent of the Lobo and St.Hill families became evident. All had good voices. Of the Lobos, Arthur had a good tenor voice, and the ladies could give a good rendition of the carols and other popular songs which were sung. But the musicians of particular note were from the St.Hill family. The father, Garnet, impressed me immensely. He not only had a very strong tenor/baritone voice but excelled in making music on unusual instruments. First, he played the “bones”. These consisted of two pairs of actual bones about four or five inches long which were placed between the fingers of both hands and made a loud noise when the hands were shaken. Garnet used these bones as a percussion instrument and the effect was outstanding. He also played the musical bottles. A series of bottles with varying amounts of water in them were struck by a implement which produced a particular note depending on which bottle was struck. The bottles were “tuned” to produce the correct notes, and Garnet could play tunes on them. Both he and Betty played the musical saw. The handle of an ordinary carpenter’s saw was held between the knees and a violin bow was drawn across the edge of the saw which did not have teeth. This produced a musical sound which was varied by the flexing of the saw with the left hand. Betty St.Hill was a musical prodigy and would have gone far in the musical world if she had been born in some big country away from Barbados. She used to tap-dance and sing as well as to play the piano and saw. The musical talent which Betty had in abundance has been transmitted to her children, the Sheppards, who continue to play a significant part in the musical scene in Barbados. They obviously enjoyed playing their music and the pleasure it gave to those of us who shared their exuberance. It taught me that music was something to be enjoyed and appreciated. Apart from the musical talents of the St.Hill family, my own life has been greatly affected by two members of that family. The first one to have an influence on my life was Mr. St.Hill himself. Garnet St.Hill was a kite enthusiast. I too was a kite enthusiast and every Easter kite season I would make several kites. They consisted of 3-stick small kites, 4-stick round kites with one round-head and one bull, “Umbrella” kites which had the sticks bent back so as to look like an umbrella, and “Singing Angel” kites which had bulls all around the kite. But Mr. St.Hill had other kites which were not flat kites like the ones I made. Some of his kites were made of cloth instead of paper, and were in more than one dimension, not flat one-dimension kites like mine. In particular he had a four-foot box kite which he flew at a spot where the Canadian Embassy now stands. There were no houses between Bishop’s Court and Pine Hill in those days. That whole stretch of land was where the Belleville people went to fly kites at Easter-time. The box kite which Mr. St.Hill had was a very powerful thing and he had to use thick marlin and gloves to fly it. He taught me the secret of the ratios of the lengths of the sticks, the spacing between sticks, and the area of cloth necessary to make this very unlikely looking object into something which would fly like a kite. I used his formula to make a half-size box kite and subsequently made one in Antigua which caused a sensation there in 1943 as no one there had ever seen a box that would fly! I have also made one here in Burlington, Ontario, Canada and have flown it in the Central Park here. I will always be grateful to Garnet St.Hill for his tuition in kite making. Garnet St. Hill with his prize winning kite - Barbados Independence, 1966 Photographed by his grandson Peter A. Sheppard Harry St. Hill The other member of the St.Hill family who materially directed the course of my life was Harry St.Hill . This he did without ever knowing the role he played in the direction my life took. Harry had joined Cable & Wireless (West Indies) Ltd. and trained as a wireless operator and had been transferred to Antigua. He and Colin Bynoe were the two operators from Barbados who manned the only means of communication which Antigua had with the world. Antigua was one of the few islands in what was then the British West Indies which did not have a cable connection with any other island or territory. Harry never wanted to go to Antigua in the first place and asked the Divisional Manager, Mr. Douglas, how long was he going to be in Antigua. The DM told him “about a year”. When Harry had been in Antigua one year and there was no sign of a replacement for him to return to Barbados, Harry became upset. He soon developed a sickness. The DM received a message from the Officer-in-Charge of Antigua that Harry had been certified as unfit for duty and should be repatriated as soon as possible. The sickness Harry was diagnosed as having was “bilharzia”, which is usually known as “hook-worm”. This is a parasitic worm which lives in rivers and gets into the body when people bathe or wade in rivers. There are no rivers in Antigua, and none in Barbados, so Harry must have done something very strange to contract this sickness. At the time I was training to be a cable operator in a batch of probationers which included Charlie Warren. Vincent Johnson and Vernon Pilgrim. Mr. A. M. Wilson, a retired C & W man, was our teacher. Mr. Douglas came to him and asked who of his batch of probationers would he choose to learn to be a wireless operator. Mr. Wilson said, “Lawless”. Mr. Douglas told me to report to the Reef Wireless Station the next day to learn to be a wireless operator. So I became a wireless operator and was transferred to Antigua, January 1943, to replace Harry St.Hill. If Harry had not created a crisis in Antigua, I would never have had two wonderful years in Antigua and would never have gotten into the technical stream at C & W which shaped the whole of my working career. SEE ALSO: LOBO & D'AZEVEDO FAMILY

Sheppard Family Archive Albertha Walcott Bertha - A Saint A Tribute written on 28 October, 1986 by my father, Andrew D. Sheppard (transcribed from personal family memorabilia) She was born in Barbados and died in Trinidad. Her name was Albertha Walcott and she was always known and called by the name of Bertha. I was born in Trinidad and live in Barbados. When my eyes were first opened I saw Bertha and she took care of me until I was able to fend for myself. Bertha was my nurse, my religious teacher, my strength and has been a great influence on my character. Bertha, you see, grew up from childhood with my family in Trinidad. She arrived in that beautiful but impoverished island with her mother, who died, and Bertha was adopted by my father and mother. Yes, she was brought into a family which grew from two to twelve children with predictable regularity. Bertha was included in the family, but true to her Barbadian upbringing and good sense, she maintained her dignity and individuality. Truly, Bertha looked after all of us – I was number ten (10) child in this large family of twelve Sheppards. Albertha Walcott always wore her blue Salvation Army uniform because she joined the Army as a young girl and was one of the Army’s most loyal and faithful followers and she never went anywhere unless she proudly wore her uniform and badge. She wore her uniform with great pride. She sang praises to our Lord all day and every day. She worked constantly, day and night. Bertha was always there. Bertha started the day by waking all of us up and made sure that we were all ready for school and that we had a good breakfast before we left home. You must be wondering. Where was the mother of these children if Bertha was doing all this? It was a glorious situation. My mother, Elsie Mabel , was always there, supervising, tending and caring for her large flock, planning and directing meals, clothing and cleaning. A powerful woman. A faithful woman. A lady in every way. A saint unclaimed. A very religious lady who insisted in strict adherence to God’s word and we all grew in love and faith and with God’s Holy guidance. Mama depended on Bertha to assist her in this tremendous task of raising so large a family. What a wonderful and strange alliance it was. Two women of completely different backgrounds living under the same roof and brought up under different circumstances in different islands – now with a common goal. To love and care and help these little helpless people to grow in Christian love and charity under extremely difficult conditions. At first all appeared to be going well with our family. Our father was a successful businessman. We lived in one of the largest houses in the city of Port-of-Spain – ten bedrooms, six upstairs and four downstairs. The usual complement of maids, cooks and yard boy – labour was extremely cheap at that time and jobs were indeed rare. Then it happened. The disastrous depression of the late 20’s early 30’s. Our father made a wrong business decision which was a calamity. Debt clouded his thoughts and the Devil showed him comfort in alcohol. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. A king of a man, thoughtful and kind and considerate for all – now broken and heading downhill. Where were his “friends” when he needed them most? You ask? You know!! – they disappeared. His health deteriorated until he died at 45 leaving a widow and twelve children. Eldest 22, youngest 4 years old. Poor Mama. What would she do? Pray and pray and work and plan. Money was scarce but faith and love were in great abundance. With Bertha’s help and care – we survived. When the family was growing up, of course Christmas was a big thing. Jesus was everywhere. We were all members of the St. Ann’s Church of Scotland and we were Presbyterians. Ma and Bertha saw to it that we attended Sunday School and Church regularly. Mama was a pillar of the Church and chief organizer of fund-raising soirees and fairs, etc. We were prepared fully to celebrate the birth of Christ in a truly Christian spirit. After the fuss and bother of shopping, cooking and waiting for Santa Claus, we looked forward to mid-night on Christmas Eve. We were supposed to be asleep but were really barely sleeping. Then in all its glory came the sounds of a heavenly choir – oh, I’ll never forget it!! – “O, Come All Ye Faithful”, “Silent Night”, “Sweet Chiming Christmas Bells”, “While Shepherds Watch Their Flocks by Night” – those marvelous inventions of inspired minds. How they can move you! – We all dashed out of bed to see what was the matter – No Santa Claus! – Just Alberta Walcott – Bertha – and the entire Salvation Army Choir from Port-of-Spain with all their musicians sounding “Glory to God in the Highest – for unto Him is born this day – our Saviour Jesus Christ". Mama and Bertha made our Christmas. Happiness in being alive and well and to participate in this wonderful celebration was sufficient for us. We had God on our side and all will be well. As we grew, we married – all twelve – and produced 58 children for Grandma, who loved all of them and wanted them around her all the time. We loved to see Mama with her grands and they all loved her. Always present everywhere and at every function – who picked up the last glass and washed it and swept up? – Bertha. Never requested but always volunteered, was Bertha’s assistance in every way. Her Army uniform had four pockets, two higher and two at arms’ length. Bertha always kept “extra-strongs” (peppermint) in one upper pocket and regular sweets (candy) in the other. The left lower pocket had dry biscuits and the right – sweet biscuits. Something for everyone. The dry ones were for Bertha – a diabetic. Bertha was known and loved everywhere in Port of Spain. On Sunday afternoons - traditionally – she took us for walks in the parks and socialized with everyone she met – she was proud of her family. Bertha knew everyone and with the slightest hint of a request, she would burst out in song – singing all the famous hymns she knew and some that she made up too. Bertha refused to be ill – her faith kept her going. She insisted in massaging our necks to relieve tension and we would give her a shilling, which she promptly turned over to the Army. Bertha was an inspiration to all of us. She saw Mama pass away – her good friend and confidante. And still she stayed on – with our eldest sister, Jessie. She also helped to raise her four children to adulthood. And then her turn came. Bertha went to meet her Master in a geriatric hospital at age 85. Go thou, sweet angel, your work is through, so well and truly done.

The Gomez Saga by Tom Bannerman Dr. George Robert Gomez, Nevis - circa 1930/31 (Photo colourized to show details more clearly) Tom Bannerman is a grandson of Dr. George Gomez. The following account is taken from a letter that Tom wrote to his mother Jessie on 15 March, 2014, describing his trip to the Caribbean, and in particular what he discovered about the lives of her parents, Dr. and Mrs. Gomez on the islands of St. Kitts and Nevis. Tom's mother was not quite three years old at the time of her father's death. Her brother Joseph was four and their older sister Euphemia was barely six. I had prepared myself with photocopies of every document concerning the West-Indies that I could find at Kincumber. As well, I read as much as I could find of the various documents kept in your boxes pertaining to that episode in Grandma’s life. Additionally, I had used this material to make searches on the internet of many subjects related to this. Also, you may remember, I left with you a memoir of the former Administrator and, later, Governor of the Leeward Islands, Sir Reginald St. Johnston, which included, among its chapters, matters about his commission in St Kitts and Nevis during the period Grandma and your father, Dr George Gomez, were living in those islands. So prepared, I immediately found several subjects in Basseterre that had come to my earlier attentions. One, the old ‘Treasury’ building – it appears in an interesting snap of a large patriotic group that includes Grandma and various dignitaries – was just across the road from my hotel! Over my time there I went on to find many more subjects that had been some part in my grand-parents’ lives. I have taken many photographs of them. ‘Stonehaven’, your home in St Kitts, was near the village of Molineux, on the central northern coast - more on this later. The grave of Dr Gomez and Audrey Gomez, was high on my search-list. It stands close to the center of Springfield Cemetery in Basseterre and was easily spotted from 100 yards, so distinct is the form of its tall, light-grey headstone. On close inspection, I found that a Glasgow firm, Gray & Co., had been responsible for its creation. Obviously, the headstone had been shipped across the Atlantic, suggesting to me that Grandma may never have seen it on site. Her memory of the grave would have been of the carpet of flowers left by a great many mourners. The stone’s lengthy leaden text showed signs of small collisions made, no doubt, by the catapulted debris of over eighty years of tropical tempest. Though the large, capitalized “GOMEZ” at its base was as clear as ever, its lead-infill letters had vanished. Just up the hill from this large block is Government House, where the doctor played tennis, no doubt, and Grandma attended meetings to do with things like the founding of the Girl Guides for the island. By the way, St. Johnston was a doctor himself, so it is quite likely he often sought the company of your father and his medical colleagues, the population of St Kitts being very small. Numerous newspaper announcements declaring the governor was “At Home” at certain hours suggests there would have been many opportunities for social exchanges with the regal representative. A letter written by Dr Gomez to Grandma when she had returned to Scotland in the autumn of 1927 to show her two children, Effie and Joe, to her parents in Clydebank, though posted from the Nevis address, clearly indicates that the doctor certainly played tennis at such a place. Also adjacent to the cemetery is the site of the former Cunningham Hospital, where your father was rushed to following the sudden onset of his subsequently fatal condition, dying there on the fourth day. Undoubtedly, he must have worked there as well as in other places, such as Stonehaven, which is the name given to the former estate around ‘Stonehaven’, the former residence of the planter. This residence is still leased to doctors, by the way. By chance, when I was shown it, the current medical officer emerged, about to leave on some errand. He was quite fascinated by what I had to say and show about the residence, and he encouraged the two of us to wanderer about, taking photographs. The old stone building needed a lot of attention to its outside. The doctor told us that he had had to replace the roof, so at least that was properly covered with a corrugated cover. Timberwork rot here and there, and long vines and other vegetation covered much of the walls. Zack, my guide for this day, saw it as a sign of poor management. The abundant fruit of various trees had been left unharvested, covering the fertile ground with rotting matter – an inexcusable waste as far as Zack was concerned. He reminded me that many poor people living about would have gladly made good use of it – he picked some oranges himself. Typically, a pair of enormous mango trees formed part of the small orchard next to the building. I recalled Grandma telling me her story about the locals being allowed to shake the tree to collect food. These trees were so big that it could hardly be possible to shake their trunks. Perhaps they included the very tree she spoke of so long ago. The back of the house was particularly decrepit, like a scene from Kipling’s jungle stories of ruined palaces of old. We had been told by the doctor - and surely it was the case - that the interior was in good order; I can’t imagine he wished to live in squalor, but it was impossible to peek through any window such was the confusion outside. A verandah was filled with various boxes, all higgledy-piggledy. The wall facing the distant Atlantic Ocean was quite high. At its base were cellar doors. This was a typical arrangement in the islands and supported Grandma’s claim that the locals sought protection in her house from tempests. About the place, numerous smaller and much more fragile timber dwellings - called chattel houses, I was told later in my trip - attested to the poverty and needs of the locals. In Grandma’s time, even these humble buildings, the size of an ordinary room in any Australian home, would have had thatched roofs, prone to instantaneous destruction in any hurricane. Returning to the Cunningham Hospital: this site had been transformed just after Uncle Joe’s visit in 1979, at which time he had seen another sad reminder of island impoverishment. A fire had gutted some of it. This may account for his disappointed judgement that the “front was too dilapidated to take” a photo. Today, it is a very nice-looking collection of institutions: a public library, a high school and a college. Had he seen it as I did, his opinion would have been quite different, I am sure. I used the library myself on two occasions. In the Government Headquarters building, I was given volumes of newspapers to study in which I found numerous articles that included references to the doctor, and several additional articles mentioning Grandma such as reviews of charity-concerts – with lists of songs - and articles on the newly formed Girl Guides. The material I found leaves no doubt that the doctor’s death was a huge blow to the island. With his demise, the islands lost their only surgeon. Additionally, it is clear that he was held in considerable esteem by a great many in St Kitts and nearby Nevis. He was considered a generous and excellent physician to all, especially the many poor. His funeral was a very big event indeed for that place. Because of his services as a soldier in the recent Great War, his funeral included some military references. Additionally, masonic elements formed part of the occasion. I didn’t know he was a freemason. I read many newspapers – editions close to two years in total. In none of these was anyone else allotted anything close to an equivalent column-space, such was the significance of this sad occasion. His illness, death and funeral took place over a week. Each day, some announcement appeared. The fourth day saw his death. This is given a full page. (He was operated-on by the Chief Medical Officer, by the way. This occurred on the second day, during which time Dr. Gomez is reputed to have been sufficiently cognizant to suggest procedures to the other three doctors attending him. I think this might explain the more than likely myth that he had “operated on himself.” Very interestingly, Grandma is included as one of the attending nurses, so she must have been a witness to at least some of the procedures. While on this self-operating point, I found an article in a newspaper Dr Gomez would have received that attested to a Berlin doctor, Dr. Forssmann, having operated on himself. The article was dated March 6, and placed in the April 18, 1931 edition of ‘The St. Kitts-Nevis Daily Bulletin’, less than half a year before the doctor’s death. It was quite an operation that saw the daring medico insert a two-foot tube from his elbow along an opened vein into his heart! Even more remarkably, with this in place, he walked up a flight of stairs to be x-rayed! “Later he was none the worse.” In this time of such daring experimentation, perhaps there is some truth to the claim that my grandfather had indeed “operated on himself.” He was the only surgeon on the island, after all. A lengthy obituary and consequent articles on shortcomings in medical staffing of the islands run for another three days. On other matters, I was shown a “blue book” – so called because of the colour of the paper used in its publication. Blue Books were a compilation of annual medical reports and similar items, all prepared by the islands’ (St. K & N) District Medical Officers. These included articles written by Dr. Gomez. The doctor’s “old chauffeur”, Edmund Matthew, who must have been sixteen when first employed as his driver, became the subject of some of my investigations while looking for ‘Stonehaven’. It transpired that Edmund had lived only a few houses away (if those others were there at the time) from ‘Stonehaven’. His home, now derelict, like so many buildings about the place – usually the result of hurricanes and absent tenants/owners – was still standing, though roofless and becoming dilapidated. There to see was his garage. In the nearby Holy Family Catholic Church’s lawns, close to the church-door, were the graves of the aged driver and his even older wife, Ellen. The graves were so close together – Edmund’s “above” Ellen’s - that they may have even touched, suggesting both the great strength of a former union and the hope of an eternal one. I had been directed to the churchyard by a neighbor who, as a child, referred to the old taxi driver as ‘El mundo’ – the world. This was his nickname, never said to his face; the polite form of address was “Uncle Edmund.” He drove his taxi for as long as he lived, I was told. The dates on the stones were: (Edmund) 2.2.1911 – 12.5.1989, seventy-eight years, and (Ellen) 8.12.1911 – 30.10.2001, eighty-nine years. I had been taken to ‘Stonehaven’ and introduced to this source of local knowledge - a successful grocery-store owner who had only recently expanded his business - by a delightfully eccentric historian, Winston (Zack) Nisbett of Basseterre. As our conversation became increasingly animated, it was revealed that a daughter of Edmund, Beulah Nicholls, was the wife of a proprietor who ran a retail business on the ground-floor of the same building as my hotel! Consequently, on my return later that afternoon, I introduced myself to him and arranged for Beulah to meet me later that evening in the hotel’s bar. We would have a marvelous talk. She was thrilled with the very vague and small photocopies of snaps of her late-father, taken by Uncle Joe back in 1979 when he had returned to the islands to seek his own history there. Her son, Randy, soon joined us, and took photos of my vague facsimiles of his grandfather. Evidently, my little stories of Edmund made very exciting news to both of them. Also at the Government Headquarters Building I was shown by the very efficient and patient Director of Archives there, Victoria O’Flaherty, micro-fiche copies of the registered births of all four children: Euphemia, Joseph, Jessie and Audrey. Curiously, Aunt Effie’s registration is supported by a William Gomez, an engineer of Charlestown, the capital of nearby Nevis. This, presumably, must be the “Uncle Bill” who Grandma identified in a photograph taken in Anguilla (28 June, 1926.) The recorded dates of birth are: 11 Dec, 1925; 14 March, 1927; 8 October, 1928; and 20 February, 1930, respectively. I attempted to obtain copies of birth certificates - and a death certificate of Audrey - from the nearby Health Centre (Connell St, Basseterre), but was fobbed-off by a clearly disinterested young person there claiming records existed only from 1950. Zack was very unimpressed by her attitude and suggested privately to me that it was all too typical of the poor regard so many in the islands have towards history. I should add that some time later in my stay in St Kitts, Zack introduced me to yet another of his countless “friends”, a hopeful candidate seeking office in the island’s next election, whom, when told of the incident, was adamant that this was nonsense. I intend to write to the Health Centre later in the hope something more positive comes of this. It might be helpful if you and Aunt Effie supported the plea. There are likely to be records, but these may well be in a poor state and difficult to source. Returning to William Gomez, the archivist suggested it was probable that William, if indeed an uncle to the children, had encouraged his brother (or cousin?) George Gomez to seek his medical practice in or near Nevis. Of course, it may be the other way around. I had expected to visit Nevis after three days on the bigger St Kitts, but such was my success in finding material in the latter island that I found I delayed the ferry-trip across to that pretty island to my last full day. I was up very early so I could take the first ferry, scheduled for 6am. My hotel being only a few hundred yards away from the pier meant I had the shortest of walks. Though the islands are merely a few miles apart, the distance between Basseterre and Charlestown is eleven miles, I think. The trip lasted fifty-five minutes. Along the straight passage, a spectacular sunrise announced Nevis’s tropical glory, silhouetting, by its glorious rays, the great volcanic form that dominates the landscape. Wonderful clouds drifting across the great orb created their own delightful and ever-changing diffusions. Once ashore, within minutes I found ‘Longstone House’, the temporary residence your parents had taken in Nevis while “waiting for Evelyn Villa”, according to Uncle Joe’s annotation on the back of a snap he had taken of the same building during his visit in October, 1979. I had researched this building some weeks before leaving for overseas, discovering that it was a landmark building in Charlestown. You may be interested to know that it appears to me that its previous residents included the family of Hastings Charles Huggins (1857 – 1923), a colossal figure in fin de siècle Nevis. Huggins was a remarkable fellow – a “mulatto man”, to use the accepted term in the Caribbean to denote mixed race - born into poverty, like so many in the islands, but by his death had accumulated staggering wealth by means of shrewd business-practices. His last residence was this once-fashionable building. Sadly, it has long since lost its glamour. Today, it houses unremarkable commercial businesses. Upstairs, where you would have been housed, is now a dull café. I bought refreshments there then took several photographs, both inside and outside the building, before leaving to look for a Wesleyan Mission church. The term, “Wesleyan Mission”, had been notated by you on the back of a photograph as the place where Uncle Joe had been christened on “Thursday, 31st March 1927”. This small slightly over-exposed snap features your smiling father holding his baby son sitting on his forearm. The pair is accompanied by Grandma, Reverend Fred and Mrs McKenzie Turner, and Mrs Sylvie Brown - your nurse/nanny – who stands next to Nurse Hendrickson. The group appears to be gathered at the bottom of a step in front an elevated entrance, presumably part of the Wesleyan Mission. The Reverend Fred, by the way, who had entered the mission in 1909, is not long for the world. He dies, in harness, the following year. On the next block west of ‘Longstone House’ was what must have been the church. I managed to get some interior shots taken through glass panes. It appeared to me that it may well have changed little in appearance since it was built. Being so close to your parents’ residence must surely have seen it as their church. I wandered about it for some time. As I often observed during my trip, next to this place of worship was what was believed to be the mustering place for the island’s slaves. The singers of hymns suffered the wails of its neighbours. A small, easy-to-miss sign announced this sad history. I had immersed myself in reading-material on the subject of slaves after purchasing several famous books on it while visiting San Francisco’s Museum of African Diaspora, earlier in the trip. One of the points continually made in these studies was the hypocritical actions of the good Christians, whose solemnity papered over their hideous odium. I stopped for breakfast in a modest café just a little along the road, closer to the pier. Attracted to it because inside I had spied an old lady serving behind a small counter, I hoped that someone of her age might have knowledge of the whereabouts of ‘Evelyn Villa’. Recognizing my Western appearance, she suggested I could get bacon and eggs a little up the road, but I replied that I’d prefer what she had on offer as I’d come to sample the local product, a spicy chicken leg and some rice or bread, I forget which. Later, paying my bill, I made my enquiry. She considered the question then suggested I cross the street to a pharmacy where I could find a Mr Evelyn, apparently an old man whose business it was. Sure enough, Mr Evelyn, the pharmacist, was quite old. He was born the same year as the snap, 1927, or perhaps it was a year or two later. He soon became absorbed by my story. ‘Evelyn Villa’ had been his own residence while his wife lived. Following her death, about twenty or so years previously, he had moved out. The building had then been leased to an American artist, but a few years later, with a hurricane ruining his business, the man left, leaving the home empty to this day. The merciless tropical climate took its usual toll, so the once grand mansion lost much of its earlier charm. However, I was welcome to inspect it. It was just up the road, in the direction of the cricket ground, which I had found myself in my earliest meandering. Before leaving, he suggested I visit various museums about the place. It was clear that he had considerable interest in the history of Nevis. I took his advice, spending the day walking all over the place, becoming a little affected by the sun despite wearing my +30 sunscreen and my wide-brimmed cricket hat. Reaching the old home in minutes, I found several workmen outside its big yard. Introducing myself, I discovered I was addressing Mr Evelyn’s brother. Among other things, he told me the old house once claimed an uninterrupted view of the nearby cricket ground – presently, a more contemporary dwelling sat between it and the ground. The name ‘Evelyn’ comes up in historical notes as the name of a planter. It is likely that the villa was once an estate home. As my trip progressed, a pattern formed: my grand-parents’ residences were comfortable homes likely built many years earlier as estate homes. Four days earlier, in St Kitts, I had been taken to dinner by an Australian man and his English wife. Having just stored their yacht in preparation for a return home to Brisbane the next day, they had decided to end their Caribbean sojourn at a very expensive restaurant in the former Ottley Plantation. I had been taxied near there that morning in my first attempt to find ‘Stonehaven’, but declined the driver’s suggestion that I see the old estate - time was getting on and I was already two hours beyond my schedule. Looking through the window as we passed it there, high up in the hills, I wondered if I had made a mistake as parts of its architecture reminded me of what I could barely discern from Uncle Joe’s snaps of ‘Stonehaven’, though, obviously, it was without the latter’s more modest scale. So, given this second opportunity, I heartily accepted the invitation from the couple when it was offered over drinks on the balcony back at ‘Seaview Inn’. Its beautifully gardened grounds were stunning. The three of us were rendered speechless as we slowly walked across wide, manicured lawns edged with spectacularly arranged tropical plants. Dusk’s pink heaven appeared through screens of huge trees usually found in aged botanical gardens. The air was perfumed. An avenue of tall coconut palms of great age took our gaze deep into the hills beyond. Re-modeled and renovated buildings also re-announced, for those who could hear, the glory of the former plantocracy, but behind their elegance and splendor crept the shameful shadow of slavery. Returning to the subject of Nevis, my pedestrian journey took me to several other places certainly part of my grandparents’ world. These included Government House, the nearby hot bath house and Alexandra Hospital. The governor’s residence was high up on a hill. It was here that the doctor definitely played tennis and, I assume, did a lot more. Nevis’s population during the mid to late ‘20s was a lot less than that of its neighbour so social life must have been particularly predictable and limited, I should think. I took the customary snaps. The nearby Nelson Museum was a little disappointing, but the small display must have been the best that could be cobbled together within the meager budget allotted by the Tourism Ministry. Also a short walk away was the famous hot spring and its remarkable bath-house. Apparently, this had been developed as part of the Caribbean’s first hotel, which is saying something given the age of the former colonies. The old bath-house, which must have been used by your family – it was not far away from ‘Longstone House’ and even closer to ‘Evelyn Villa’ – must have been quite an experience when it was maintained, but now it had become poor relic, a curious ruin of former grand times. Fortunately, a nearby modern pool is available for use. The water was quite hot indeed. I can’t imagine I could have stayed in it for very long at all. If I understood the geography and history of the place, the spring released as a narrow stream into the sea not far away, providing water for Drake, Raleigh, Nelson and so on. I followed it to its very small mouth, which opened at the head of a post-card beach. Not a soul was there. I found myself romanticizing about those Tudor explorers and other pirates, and Horatio, R.N., all of whom must have stood on the very spot. The climb to Alexandra Hospital, which I made when the sun was at its zenith, was rewarded with the knowledge that my grandfather had once been the District Medical Officer in charge of this important institution. It has changed, of course, but the old Georgian architectural forms still revealed themselves. I had hoped to get information about his residency there, but had to do with being given a name and an e-mail address. Something may yet come of this. I returned on that day’s penultimate ferry-ride to St Kitts, satisfied that I had covered even more than I could have hoped for. Tom Bannerman at Springfield Cemetery next to the Cunningham Hospital, Basseterre, St Kitts- 2014 See also: GEORGE ROBERT GOMEZ DR.GEORGE GOMEZ - PHOTOS

Friendships~Partnerships~Family Ties U n ravelling the Connections - Part I In October 2022 Ford celebrated 100 years in Barbado s. I was pleased to have provided some historical information to ANSA's Marketing Manage r in Barbados for commemorative promotions . Chapter 1 TRINIDAD THE FORD DEALERSHIP Charles McEnearney and Robert de Sousa Just four months after the end of The Great War, and at the height of the popularity of the Ford Model T, the operation of the Trinidad Ford dealership commenced in the name of a young Irishman. On 19th March 1919, the Charles McEnearney Ford dealership was opened at No. 25 Richmond Street in Port of Spain, Trinidad. What is not widely known is that Charles McEnearney’s partner in business and the co-founder of the well-known automobile business was Robert (Bobby) de Sousa , a member of a long-established Portuguese family in Trinidad. He was an estate proprietor who had started his working life in San Fernando as a merchant. Several years after co-founding the company that bore his name, Charles McEnearney decided to leave Trinidad and return to the United States. He sold his interest in the business to Robert de Sousa who then ran the entity at No. 25 Richmond Street as sole owner. Newspaper advertisement - 1926 TRINIDAD THE DE SOUSA - SHEPPARD CONNECTION Leslie de Sousa and Ida Sheppard Joyce de Sousa and Bertie Sheppard During that time, the Sheppard family lived at No. 30 Richmond Street , directly opposite to the McEnearney dealership and showroom at No. 25 Richmond Street, Port of Spain. My grandfather, Charles (Charlie) Sheppard , had bought the large residence where he lived with his wife Elsie Gomez and 12 children until his untimely death in 1931. It was at the McEnearney business across t he street that Robert de Sousa's son Leslie met and fell in love with my father’s sister, Ida Sheppard . A romance ensued and they were married on 22nd July 1933 at St. Ann's Church of Scotland , Port of Spain. Ida’s parents (my grandparents) were also of Portuguese roots. The family ties between de Sousa and Sheppard families became even stronger when Robert de Sousa’s daughter Joyce married my father's brother Charles Albert (Bertie) Sheppard, in 193 8. Thus, two de Sousa siblings wed two Sheppard siblings. Chapter 2 BARBADOS THE McENEARNEY - MACKENZIE CONNECTION Charles McEnearney and Charles MacKenzie The Ford Dealership Charles E dward McEnearney was born on 29 April, 1887 in Rathfriland, Ireland and grew up in County Down. He was a Naturalized American citizen, having immigrated to the USA as a mi nor with his parents. Records show that he traveled back and forth from his home in New York to Trinidad. He brought to Trinidad two American dealerships: the Singer Sewing Machine Company and the Ford Motorcar Company. He also represented an American company seeking to purchase copra and other coconut-based products. His USA World War I Draft Registration states that he was then 30 years old, working as the Manager of the Singer Sewing Machine Company in Trinidad in 1917. It appears that he was never called to serve in active duty. Charles McEnearney’s good friend was Barbadian businessman Charles Straghan MacKenzie. born on 12 February 1897. It was through selling Singer Sewing Machines that they first met, as Charles MacKenzie had the Singer Sewing Machine agency in Barbados. It was to be the start of their lifelong friendship and business relationship. In 1918, the two young men decided to go into business together starting with the Firestone Tyre agency, founding the Barbados partnership Charles McEnearney. In October 1922 they obtained the Ford agency for Barbados, selling the popular Model T. As Charles MacKenzie's youngest son Douglas quipped to me "It seems that they both decided that sewing machines were not for them and cars were much more fun!" It wasn't until ten years later in 1932 that their partnership was incorporated into Charles McEnearney & Co. Ltd., of which Charles MacKenzie became the Managing Director. Charles MacKenzie's son John David Straghan MacKenzie joined his father in the family business in 1951 when he was 18 years old, right out of his secondary education at The Lodge School. He was known as David, but his contemporaries called him "Beaver", a nickname he acquired as a school boy. David was sent for a one-year training course in Dealership Management Administration at the Ford Motor Company Training School at Dagenham, UK. Upon his return to Barbados, he rejoined the company in 1953. At that time, the business was owned 50/50 by the McEnearney and MacKenzie families. His younger brother Douglas joined the firm in 1966 after completing his university studies in Canada. Their three siblings Dr. Ronald MacKenzie , Neil MacKenzie and Bonnie (Montagu) MacKenzie were shareholders but never took an active role in the company . What started off as a simple partnership between the two friends Charles McEnearney and Charles MacKenzie in Barbados grew into a successful conglomerate and eventually became owned by the Trinidad ANSA McAL group. The McEnearney and MacKenzie and families sold their shareholdings and have moved on to other interests. l/r Charles MacKenzie, Charles McEnearney and his wife Esther (Burton) McEnearney Chapter 3 BARBADOS THE MACKENZIE - SHEPPARD CONNECTION John David Straghan MacKenzie and Valerie Anne Sheppard l/r Valerie Sheppard, David MacKenzie and John Bellamy at a corporate event on board a ship - Barbados, 1985. David was then Chairman of McEnearney Alstons (Barbados) Ltd. In 2004 John Bellamy became Chairman of the Board of ANSA McAL(Barbados) Ltd. The Barbados Advocate - Monday, 2 December 1985 At an ANSA McAL function in Trinidad, 1992 Dr. Anthony N. Sabga O.R.T.T., Chairman and Founder of the ANSA McAL Group of Companies, presents David MacKenzie's wife Valerie with a gift of "The Book of Trinidad". David, then Chairman and CEO of McEnearney Alstons (Barbados) Ltd ., looks on. David MacKenzie took over the reins of the Barbados Ford dealership Charles McEnearney from his father Charles Straghan MacKenzie. He was responsible for relocating the business from the Chapel Street, Bridgetown site to Wildey, St. Michael in 1968. In 1980 the holding company McEnearney Alstons (Barbados) Ltd. was established, in which McEnearney Alstons of Trinidad took an equity interest. David was appointed Chairman and CEO of McEnearney Alstons (Barbados) Ltd. and held that position until he retired at age 65 in April 1998. He was then invited to remain as Chairman for a further couple of years. Through an unexpected and tragic turn of events in my life in 1984, I became a part of the MacKenzie family when I married Charles MacKenzie's third son, David. I never knew my MacKenzie father-in-law as he and his wife Ella Winston (née Cole) had already passed away in the seventies. Author Simon Kreindler, childhood friend of Charles MacKenzie's younger son Douglas (Doug), describes Charles in his book "Peddlers All" as "a tall imposing man with a deep, booming voice, he was quite deaf and communicating with him was a challenge. He smoked a pipe an d kept a double-barrel 12-gauge shotgun in the corner of his bedroom. Even as kids we understood it was meant to warn the help that burglary would have serious repercussions." Similarly, his son David always kept a loaded revolver tucked behind his bed, though not for the same reason - he would patrol our home armed at odd hours of the night. David always spoke fondly of his father. I gathered that he was a larger-than-life man with a wry sense of humour. He often recalled that when his father presided over a board meeting and an important matter was tabled he would declare, "All those in favour say 'aye', all those against say 'aye' resign!". Although it was said tongue-in-cheek, I believe David admired and emulated his father's management style. He spoke about the great friendship between "Mr. Mac", as Charles McEnearney was known, and his father who was also known in Barbados as "Mr. Mac." The two partners, he said “got on like a house on fire” and went on many business-cum-pleasure trips together. David had a meticulous eye for detail - oftentimes to a fault. He was measured, determined and decisive in both his business affairs and private life. Not surprisingly then, he proposed marriage to me just a couple of months after we first met. We were introduced at mutual friends' home on 24 February 1985. Nine months later, we were married at St. Dominic's Catholic Church, with a reception at the Barbados Yacht Club. It was 30 November 1985. There were fireworks and celebrations all over the island that night as it was Independence Day in Barbados - the 19th year of Independence. Apart from family members from both sides, many of the guests at our wedding were David's Barbadian business associates and several fellow directors who had flown in from Trinidad, including Conrad O'Brien, Chairman/CEO of the McEnearney Alstons group. Since David was a director of the daily newspaper, The Barbados Advocate published a photo of us on their front page with the headlines "MacKenzie Weds Again". It was a second marriage for both of us. His first wife D r. Anne Bayl ey had died on 15th December 1 984 after a short illness of cancer, and my husband J.A.K (Tony) Archer, a well-known Barbadian equestrian sportsman and businessman, had died suddenly of cardiac arrest during an asthma attack on 16 July of that same year. I was a 37 year old widow with a family of five children ages 7 to 18 and David was a 52 year old widower with two adult children studying abroad at university. We were brave and optimistic, both of us, to undertake this merger of families with very different family roots and backgrounds. In many ways, it was an unforgettable period of my life and the lives of our families and extended families on both sides. David and I separated in 2008 and divorced in 2009. The intention of this chapter , however, is not to write about the private life we shared during a span of 22 years, nor about the character of my former husband. Nevertheless , it was within those years that the Ford business David had taken over from his father expanded, becoming one the most well-known and successful conglomerates in Ba rbados. It was during this period that he reached the peak of his business career. As the Chairman's wife, I was by his side at all the countless corporate events and social occasions associated with such a position. He was unaware that I kept newspaper clippings of some of the more important ones - special milestones that may otherwise have been forgotten. In 2001, our friend Conrad O'Brien, former Chairman of McEnearney's Trinidad, called me to say he wanted to nominate David for a national honour in acknowledgement of his contribution to business. David and I prepared a detailed CV which was submitted to the relevant authorities under Prime Minister Owen Arthur's government and I kept a copy of it among my memorabilia. For reasons unknown to me, that honour was not granted. "Friendships~Partnerships~Family Ties" - I muse on the twists and turns of life. In 1933 my father's sister Ida married Robert de Sousa, son of the owner and co-founder of Charles McEnearney in Trinidad. In 1985 I married David MacKenzie, son of the co-founder of Charles McEnearney in Barbados. Had I known my family history back then, it would have been fun to talk with Aunt Ida about how she met her husband Leslie de Sousa at the Ford dealership across their street in Trinidad. During a visit with David a few years ago, I told him about what I'd discovered. It was then that he handed me the book "The History of the ANSA McAL Group of Companies – 125 Years of Business in the Caribbean". I should have also reminded him that my Trinidadian Aunt Ida came to our wedding. It was she who played a piano duet with her sister Jessie (Sheppard) Brash at the family party held the night before that blew him away. He said he'd never before seen the likes of it. On my last trip to Barbados in April 2023, I visited David at his home, the same home we shared from 1985 to 2008. It was soon after his 90th birthday. When we said our goodbyes at the familiar front door, we both knew it would be the very last time. I had paid my respects and left feeling that he was already at peace. David passed away on 17th September, 2023 and was interred at his family plot at Westbury Cemetery, Barbados, after a private funeral service on 24 October, 2023. October 1995 at a gala to celebrate the 100th Anniversary of the founding of The Barbados Advocate Company officials and wives at the gala: l/r Mrs Minerva Sabga, Group Chairman Anthony Sabga, David MacKenzie and his wife Valerie, Monica and Douglas Maloney, Colin Murray Click here to see newspaper articles and more photos Click here to continue: Unravelling the Connections - Part II The Synchronicity of Life . . . I find that tracing the intertwining of famili es and events is fascinating. This story was first compiled by me on 17 October, 2021. On 4 November, following the death of my former husband David MacKenzie on 17 September 2023, I added Chapter 3. All of the newspaper articles are from my own collection. With thanks to:- Ryan de Sousa and family for providing family photos My cousins Joan (de Sousa) Bodu, Kathleen (Sheppard) Henry, and Bernie Henry for sharing oral family history J. David S. MacKenzie who gave me the book "The History of the ANSA McAL Group of Companies – 125 Years of Business" by historian Gerard A.Besson, published in 2006. ( David was a contributor of information and photos for the publication.) Douglas S. MacKenzie for providing information Genealogy sites on the internet for research My father Andrew Sheppard for his handwritten memoirs about the Portuguese in Trinidad. ""People are trapped in history and history is trapped in them" - James Baldwin

My father, Andrew Sheppard, was an early riser. In those quiet morning hours with his first cup of coffee he often expressed his thoughts and wrote about his memories of growing up in Trinidad. I have transcribed his writings to preserve for our family history. Valerie Sheppard

Joseph Louis St. Hill 1931-1992 Joseph Louis St. Hill was born on 4 April, 1931 to Henry Garnet St. Hill and his wife Esmee Ione D'Azevedo St. Hill nee Lobo. Like his four older siblings, Louis was born at the St. Hill family home, "Ypres", 1st Avenue, Belleville, Barbados. He was the youngest of five chidren. His siblings were, in chronogical order, Thelma, Clementine (Clem), Henry (Harry) and my mother Frances Elizabeth (Betty). Their ancestry was English on their father's side and Sephardic Portuguese on their mother's paternal side. Louis grew up in Belleville, and, like his siblings, started his schooling at the Ursuline Convent, which was situated at the end of the 1st Avenue, within walking distance of his home. In those days, Belleville was a quiet, desirable neighbourhood in which to raise a family. Avenues 1 - 5 were private streets for residents. There were two tennis clubs and Louis learned to excel at the sport at the Summerhays club in 5th Avenue. He was a left-hander, and the picture below shows him in action at the Summerhays Club. He became became a champion and eventual winner of the Caribbean's prestigious Brandon Trophy for Barbados at a tournament held in Jamaica in 1966. I'm a paragraph. Click here to add your own text and edit me. It's easy. In Memoriam Louis St. Hill, CLU, CH.F.C. Reflections of a Fine Gentleman and a Great Contributor by Art Schooley, CLU, CFP Kitchener-Waterloo Resource Centre Manager Be a true gentleman Be client-oriented Have a sense of humour Put something back into the Industry One of Manulife's finest gentlemen and a great contributor to the life insurance industry, Louis St. Hill, CLU, CH.F.C., of our Kitchener-Waterloo Resource Centre, passed away on May 29, 1992. I've known Louis personally since 1974, the first year I arrived in Kitchener-Waterloo, and although we only had a formal business relationship since May of 1989, in my mind, Louis and I always had a great relationship until his death in May of this year. Louis started his career with Dominion Life on January 1, 1962 in Jamaica, and soon became the country's leading producer, and President of Dominion Life's Production Club. Louis transferred to Hamilton in 1967, where he continued his association with Dominion Life. He subsequently moved to Kitchener-Waterloo, and became a founding partner of the firm Lackner McPhail St. Hill, which subsequently merged to become Lackner McLellan. Louis sold his interest in Lackner McLellan in 1989 when he joined the Kitchener-Waterloo Resource Centre in our Brampton sub office. During my time associated with Louis, I learned four very important lessons from this outstanding individual. A True Gentleman Eugene Gallucci, CLU, CH.F.C., Advanced Marketing Manager in Kitchener-Waterloo, gave me a great example the other day on how Louis was such a true gentleman. Here is Eugene's story: "I fondly remember our first joint interview. We drove an hour to the clients office, and then spent an hour and a half with the clients doing some factfinding. We got back into Louis' car, and five minutes from the client's office was a coffee shop. Louis pulled into the coffee shop parking lot, and I asked him, 'Louis, do you feel the need for a coffee and a donut?', whereby Louis turned to me and said, 'No, my friend, but you haven't had a cigarette in almost three hours, and I am sure you need one now'." Louis took on the responsibility of providing the best possible financial advice for each and every one of his clients, and always put clients first. If we were not handling a piece of his business properly, he would fight hard to make sure that the client was well look after. And this focus, if I am sure, what made him the success that he was in the life insurance industry. When Louis realized that his illness was terminal, he was very concerned about who would take over his clientele. He and I discussed this issue, and Louis was very pleased when it was agreed that David Johnson, CLU, would take over the servicing of his clients. In spite of being seriously ill, I know that this was an integral part of Louis putting together his final affairs. I guess this type of attitude reflects why Louis was such a success. Sense of Humour Louis always had a little story to tell; a smile on his face; and a great sense of humour. This is, I think, what made him such a pleasure to do business with, both at the Resource Centre level and with his clients. Eugene gave another story, which I think typifies the sense of humour that Louis had in his day-to-day business activities. Here is Eugene's story: "On a joint interview occasion, Louis was to meet me in my office at 7:30 am. We were going to see a prospect concerning a substantial amount of life insurance. Like the rest of the world, I was a little nervous; flew into my office at 7:15 am. to make last minute preparations; and there was Louis, calmly working on the crossword puzzle. As I was frantically putting things into my briefcase; getting ready; checking the last minute items, Louis calmly turned to me and said, 'relax my friend - he [the prospect] will buy this morning.' So I naturally asked, 'now, how do you know that already?' And Louis calmly replied, 'because I finished the crossword, and I got it all right - it is going to be a good morning.' Needless to say, our friend, the prospect, did buy, and another relationship was started." Throughout the years I knew Louis, he was always very considerate to his co-workers, staff, and most importantly, to his clients. Client-Oriented When I attended Louis' funeral, I couldn't get over how many of the people in attendance where Louis' clients. I said to myself, "I wonder if these people were clients first and friends later or friends first and clients later?" It doesn't really matter, because I think what I learned from that day, and I guess what I've always understood, is that Louis treated each of his clients as a personal friend. Put Something Back Into the Industry Louis recognized that the life insurance industry had provided for him and his family an opportunity to grow, and to develop financial independence. Louis has four wonderful children, a very nice home, and his wife is financially independent. The life insurance industry had been very good to Louis over the years, and Louis' recognition of this was evident by his participation in the industry. Louis was formally the President of the Waterloo County Life Underwriters Association; President of the CLU Chapter and a former National Board Member of the Life Underwriters Association of Canada. On a personal note, Louis was responsible for my involvement in I.U.A.C. by recommending that I join the Board of Directors of the local Life Underwriters Association. Louis believed "as ye sow, so shall ye reap."

GEORGE ROBERT GOMEZ, MB ChB 2 June, 1896 - 7 September, 1931 (Restoration of original photo using AI - April 2026) Early Life and Education George was the sixth of nine children born to Joseph Gomez and his wife Christina Pereira, at their family home at Guanapo Street in Arima, Trinidad. My grandmother, Elsie Mabel Gomez, was his oldest sister, and he was a thirteen year-old school-boy when she married my grandfather, Charles S. T. Sheppard . George received his secondary education at St. Mary's College, Port-of-Spain - a school administered by the Spiritians (Holy Ghost Fathers), a Religious Order of the Catholic Church. It is modeled on the English Grammar School System. There his academic brilliance has been recorded in several of the school's various year-books. In the Year Book 1913, Cambridge Local Examinations, George is placed 11th in the whole of the British Empire ! In 1915 he not only won an Island Scholarship (a monetary value of £600) to continue his education at University, but was also awarded the Jerningham Gold Medal for his exceptional Upper Level Examination results, which placed him first in Trinidad. This was recorded on a plaque which still proudly stands in the grounds of the college today, along with other scholarship winners throughout the years. World War 1 was still taking place, and George chose to postpone going to university. Instead, he enlisted to serve with the Second Merchants' Contingent of Trinidad. At age 20 he left with the Trinidad contingent for England and after six months' training there, he was sent with the Devonshire Regiment to India. Two undated letters sent to St Mary's College by Private George Gomez from India make fascinating reading as they refer to several places where he has been and make comparisons with places that he knows from his school years. They also give the reader some idea about the tedium of army life and George's plans addressing this. These letters are part of a large compilation of letters from former students enlisted in the services. They are in the college's special edition year book, 'War Memorial Number', Dec., 1919 and can be seen here. After the war came to an end in 1918, George went to Scotland, where he commenced his studies in medicine at the University of Edingburgh, qualifying as a medical doctor and surgeon. About 1920 while on holiday in Oban on the west coast of Scotland with other medical students, he met Jessie Aitken Torrance, also on holiday there with her parents and her sister Margaret ("Peggy"). A romance followed and they became engaged. George graduated MB ChB in 1924 and the couple were married in October that year in Glasgow, Scotland. Dr. George Gomez and his wife Jessie Torrance 4 October 1924 - Glasgow, Scotland Colonial Service Dr. Gomez had been offered a post in the Colonial Medical Service in Nevis, (then British West Indies), and consequently they left Scotland for the Caribbean, visiting Trinidad to introduce Jessie to his family before going on to Nevis to take up his new position of Medical Officer at the Alexandra Hospital, Nevis on 21st December, 1924. Dr. Gomez became highly respected and loved in the community. George and his wife Jessie had three children born in Nevis - Euphemia, Joseph and Jessie. In 1927, George was transferred to the Cunningham Hospital in St. Kitts, and the family moved there and took up residence at "Stonehaven". In St. Kitts another baby was born, Audrey Christine, but sadly she died in 1930 - just months before the death of her father. Father and daughter share the same burial place and headstone in St. Kitts. It was a tragic time for Jessie, who also lost her father in Scotland around that time. This family portrait may have been taken following the death of baby Audrey about 1930. It was probably the last picture of Dr. George Gomez with his family. Untimely Death The dramatic story of Dr. Gomez dying at a young age while he conducted an appendectomy operation on himself in Nevis has been told and re-told in the family. However, we now know with certainty that this was not entirely factual. The Chief Medical Officer, Dr. E. R. Branch, who was stationed in the Cunningham Hospital, the major medical facility in St Kitts, though not qualified as a surgeon, performed the emergency operation, assisted by Dr. W. B. R. Jones of nearby Nevis. Other doctors and nurses, including his wife Jessie, were in attendance. His operation was successful in so much that he removed the appendix, but this was not enough. Tom Bannerman, son of Jessie Gomez (seated center with her father in this family photo) who lives in Australia, went on a fact-finding pilgrimage to his roots of Trinidad, St. Kitts and Nevis, in a quest to find out more about his grandfather. What he has found is astounding, and we must thank him for providing all this new information about our esteemed family member. In October 2014, Tom visited us here in Holland and brought with him a wealth of photos of newspaper clippings that he found in his research, which indicate that Dr. Gomez was a prominent figure who met with an untimely death when he was only 35 years old. In Tom's words: "The material I found leaves no doubt that the doctor’s death was a huge blow to the island. With his demise, the islands lost their only surgeon. Additionally, it is clear that he was held in considerable esteem by a great many in St Kitts and nearby Nevis. He was considered a generous and excellent physician to all, especially the many poor. His funeral was a very big event indeed for that place. Because of his services as a soldier in the recent Great War, his funeral included some military references. Additionally, masonic elements formed part of the occasion. I didn’t know he was a freemason." In the video below, Tom is in Holland at our home, and is reading the report of his grandfather's death and burial from a newspaper dated 8th September, 1931. See also: DR.GEORGE GOMEZ - PHOTOS THE GOMEZ SAGA - NEVIS