To forget one's ancestors is to be a brook without a source, a tree without a root.

JOSEPH GOMEZ and his wife CAROLINE GWENDELINE FRANCO Joseph Gomez was my grandmother Elsie's brother, the eldest son of Joseph Gomez and Christina Pereira . He was born on 22 July 1891 at their home in Belmont, Laventille, Trinidad. Joseph married Caroline on 10 August 1916 in her hometown of St. George's, Grenada. Caroline, a Grenadian, was born on 10 October 1894, the daughter of John Franco and Clementine Pace. Her father John Franco was a well-established wine merchant in Grenada, considered one of the wealthiest businessmen there at the time. Just two months before their marriage, Joseph had performed the duties of bestman at his sister Audrey's wedding in Trinidad, as she had married Caroline's brother Louis Franco. Audrey settled down to married life in her husband's Grenada, while Joseph and his Grenadian bride Caroline made their home in Trinidad. This photo of Joseph and Caroline was sent by Joseph's mother Christina (Pereira) Gomez to his brother George Gomez who was at the time in India. George had enlisted to serve in World War I and left Trinidad in 1916, the same year as his brother Joseph and sister Audrey were married. In October 1922, Joe was working at T. Geddes Grant Ltd., as mentioned in Audrey's death announcement in the newspaper. By 1922, Joseph and Caroline were living at 33 Victoria Square, Port of Spain. We know this because of a newspaper article about the funeral of Joseph's grandmother Antonia Pereira. “The funeral took place at 5 o’clock Sunday afternoon from the residence of Mr. Joseph Gomez at No. 33 Victoria Square to Lapeyrouse Cemetery.” Joseph was one of the bearers. When Joe's mother Christina died on 13 July 1949 the newspaper article about her funeral mentioned that wreaths were received from The Directors and Staff of T. Geddes Grant Ltd, and from Mr. and Mrs. Willard Grant - suggesting that Joe was still employed by that firm in 1949 when he was fifty-eight years old. In 2012 when I visited Trinidad, the old Gomez home was still there. The number 33 on the front porch made it easily identifiable and strangely exuded a cozy warmth to me. How many tales those walls could tell! Between 1918 and 1931 Joseph and Caroline had had nine chidren - four daughters and three sons. One of them, Peter, died when he was only four years old - we're not yet sure what happened, but how sad it must have been. All the others grew up to be married and have children, some of whom left the shores of Trinidad and settled in abroad. Joseph with his eldest son Joseph Darrell (Darrell) Gomez circa 1921 Joseph and Caroline (Franco) Gomez and their family - 1948 Back l/r: Darrel Gomez, Elmo Flintom, Jean (Gomez) Flintom, John Boyce, Barbara (Gomez) Boyce, Bill Adams, Jocelyn (Gomez) Adams, George Dornier Gomez Middle: Caroline (Franco) Gomez, Grandma Christina (Pereira) Gomez, Joseph Gomez Children: Mary Adams, Margaret Boyce, Nancy Boyce, Paul Boyce, Pat Boyce, Donald Boyce To the rest of the family, they were affectionately known as Uncle Joe and Aunt Carrie. Uncle Joe passed away in 1958 when he was 66, but Aunt Carrie lived to the ripe old age of ninety. Visit Uncle Joe's and Aunt Carrie's gravesites by clicking on their names here: Joseph and Caroline

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

"Respect" Written on 8th March, 1989 by my father, Andrew Desmond Sheppard (1922-1991) (transcribed from personal family memorabilia) It is a natural human tendency to look up to a leader - to respect such a person and to endeavour to emulate the behaviour and personal traits of such a person who has been chosen to lead other human beings. Ever since the beginning of recorded time we have seen and have been told of great men and women whose exploits fill the pages of historical literature. They range from good mothers and fathers, kings and queens, political and military leaders, religious and medical leaders, musicians, artists, etc., etc., ad infinitum. Those who stand out and are most remembered are those who are respected for their achievements, those whose character has left its mark in the memories of mankind. In other words, those who believed in what they were doing and who did it to the best of their ability. Human values have been so abused and neglected in recent times that many of life’s problems and miseries have been self-inflicted and at times appear to be insoluble. Loss of respect for one’s self and for one’s neighbour has led to this precarious state of affairs. People whom we have placed in positions of trust which require integrity have become overcome with greed and lust and have been devoured by their own behavior. Every day the media exposes some politician, religious leader, business entrepreneur, parents, teachers, lawyers, doctors etc. or others, who have been qualified and entrusted to conduct certain functions and they have let themselves down badly by losing their self-respect and the respect of others. They are no longer respectable in the eyes of the public. These are exciting times and we have grown to expect great improvements and inventions which most of us accept as a matter of course. Technologically, the world which we know is a heaven on earth because of the tremendous accomplishments of the scientists and inventors in forever striving to improve conditions for mankind. BUT - They have lost sight of the implications of their deeds. Just look at the ever-increasing problem of the reduction of the ozone level of our atmosphere. Only yesterday, the future King of England, Prince Charles, expressed in no disguised terms, the very real fear of concerned people that unless the leaders of this world respect these warnings of the deterioration of our environment, we are all going to end up being in a microwave oven. Man is destroying himself. He has lost his self-respect. In the name of progress, we have been using and abusing the good things of life without a thought for tomorrow. Chemicals are poisoning our food and water supply. Most of us are dependent for our daily existence on the consumption of chemically produced preservatives in our food, pesticides penetrate our vegetables and our meat is contaminated with the introduction of growth-inducing hormones in cattle and other animals. A better price, a greater profit, “watch the bottom line”. These are the guiding lines for the people who feed us. We want a better world for all but not at the expense of our health and that of our children and their children. The Surgeon-General of the U.S.A. has now directed that all containers of alcoholic beverages must carry a label warning consumers that wine, champagne, beer, whisky or whatever could adversely affect your health, your driving and pregnant ladies should desist from drinking alcohol as it might affect the health of the yet unborn. Will this warning be read? Will they respect the advice of the Surgeon-General who is the highest human authority on health in the U.S.A.? This warning is similar to that placed on cigarette packages which now state that smoking them is dangerous to your health. So they stop smoking cigarettes and are playing with marijuana, cocaine, crack, which are much, much worse - and the manufacturers and suppliers of these products of the Devil are just getting richer and richer and are corrupting the world with their money. Yes, leaders of countries, armies, police and businesses are victims of their own greed for power and evil gain. They will all eventually succumb because they have become disrespectful and have lost the respect of those who looked to them for leadership. They now have to hold their positions by bribery, corruption and by being constantly surrounded by sycophants, drug dealers and personal armed guards. As a deviation to my observations of the sad state of the world in which we live, I now wish to draw to your attention one of the redeeming features of our life. From this evening, 8th March, 1989 until Saturday 11th March, 1989, this tiny island-nation of Barbados will be graced by the presence in our midst of our beloved and highly respected Queen Elizabeth II and her devoted husband, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, who are paying us an official visit and who will perform many official functions during their brief stay here. The news of Her Majesty’s visit has come like a breath of fresh air. Everyone in Barbados loves and respects our Queen. She epitomises all that is dignified and graceful and is universally considered to be the enduring and loving example of human leadership. Her Majesty loves Barbados and respects us for our stability and sense of loyalty and faith in a system of government which has stood the test of time - 350 years of unbroken parliamentary democracy. That is the “bottom line”. While we welcome Her Majesty and Prince Philip with open arms we must ask ourselves - but why us? Her Majesty has chosen to visit Barbados above many other destinations and has visited us more than most other countries within her domain. She knows that we are a God-fearing and loving people who have an innate sense of decency and respect for things traditional. In fact, it is said that even now we are more British than the British. Respect - that is the word which means so much. Respect is to be earned by example. Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, our Queen, has earned the respect of the entire world. And now, we salute you and in one voice state “GOD SAVE OUR GRACIOUS QUEEN, GOD SAVE OUR NOBLE QUEEN, GOD SAVE OUR QUEEN”. Andrew Sheppard Barbados 8th March, 1989

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. 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." 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 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

Jessie Mabel Sheppard 1909 - 2002 Jessie (Sheppard) Brash in 1947 when she was 38 years old Early Background & Childhood Charles Sebastian Theodore Sheppard and his sweetheart Elsie Mabel Gomez got married on the 20th of January 1909 at the Presbyterian Church of St. Ann's, and settled down to married life in Port of Spain, Trinidad. It wasn't long before 23 year old Elsie was expecting their first child. Their daughter, Jessie Mabel, arrived on Monday 22 November that year. Jessie's grandparents were English and Portuguese. Her Sheppard grandfather was Alfred, a Sergeant Major with the Trinidad Police Force born in Sussex, England, and her grandma was Virginia de Freitas , Trinidad-born daughter of Madeiran immigrants. Her Gomez grandparents on her mother's side were also all from Portuguese families who had settled in Trinidad. Jessie's father Charlie played the mandolin and violin, and Elsie also played the piano. As in many middle-class homes of those times, a piano took pride of place in the Sheppard drawing room - one could say it was the centerpiece of the home where family and friends socialized and many musical evenings took place. About home life, Elsie wrote in her short memoirs "Music pervaded the air, father and children being the musicians." Little Jessie Sheppard sat at the piano from an early age, and began to play before her little feet could even touch the pedals. Encouraging young Jessie's love for the piano, Charlie and Elsie arranged for their daughter to have music lessons with Herr Christian Wilhelm Nothnagel, a German musician and teacher who had settled in Trinidad and set up his school of music at 18 Gray Street, Port of Spain in 1899. His fees were $5 for 8 half-hour lessons and Jessie was tutored by him twice weekly. Jessie was privileged to have been given this opportunity, as Herr Nothnagel was no ordinary piano teacher. He had come from a family of notable musicians and had studied at Segeberg Seminary in Schleswig-Holstein, Germany. He was qualified to teach with special emphasis in music, choral training and conducting and studies in the organ, piano, violin and cello. At his music school, called The St. Clair School of Music, he taught Piano, Organ, Violin, Cello, Singing, and Theory of music. He held students’ evenings for playing before small audiences monthly and prepared students for Trinity College of music or London exams. Undoubtedly, Jessie's early exposure to this classical musical environment led her to be the accomplished pianist she became. As time went by, she realized that her real talent was playing music by ear, and this she humbly considered as a gift. An interesting family connection is that well-known Trinidadian soprano and vocal coach, Wendy Sheppard, is the great-granddaughter of Herr Nothnagel. She is also the great-grandaughter of Jessie's father, Charles Sheppard. Aunt Jessie would fondly recall that when she was a little girl, she would take the train to Sangre Grande, where she loved to spend school holidays with Grandma Christina Gomez. The manager of the local cinema there would often ask her grandmother's permission for her to provide the live piano music for silent movies when the resident pianist was off. This she did when she was just eight years old. Jessie attended Bishop Anstey High School where, as a twelve year old, she would play marches on the piano for the students to march to their classroom. This would be the pattern of her long life - generously giving of her musical talent at countless venues and charity events, with joy and love. Some of these are recounted in a couple of newspaper interviews with her, and in an appreciation published after her death. By age nineteen, Jessie had become the eldest of a family of thirteen children, with seven younger brothers and five sisters to help look after. Then tragedy hit the large Sheppard family. Their father Charles died in 1931 at only 45, leaving them and their young widowed mother to grieve and cope with his sudden death. Fortunately, after graduating from high school, Jessie had obtained a steady job at the Post Office. Her mother Elsie wrote in her memoirs "this was of great help, as she could buy for herself such fineries as were needed and put by something for the "Bottom Drawer". It was at her workplace that she met Bernard, the dashing young man she fell in love with. Bernard would bring mail to the Post Office from the company for which he worked, and what started off as an "office romance" blossomed into courtship and marriage. The eldest Sheppard sisters, l/r Ida, Jessie, Madge at their Richmond Street home, Trinidad The "Man" Jessie Married How, when or why Bernard Brash acquired the nickname "Man" is anybody's guess. But the amusing story has been told that it started when he was a pretty cocky little boy and his mother's old lady friends used to call him "little man". The moniker stuck with him and he became known as "Man" for life. Bernard Henry McNee (Man) Brash came from a most interesting family. Like his four siblings - Bianca, Francis (Frank), Victoria (Vicky) and Louisita (Toots) - he was born at Tucker Valley, Macqueripe, in the north of Trinidad where their father, Harris Brash, was the Manager of Sir William Ingram's large estate. Man's mother was Trinidad-born Corina Hart, daughter of Daniel Hart and Louisita de la Croix de Martini who was of Italian parentage. Man's paternal grandparents were a Scottish couple - Francis Banks Brash and Jean (Jane) Graham McNee - who had emigrated to Trinidad shortly after their marriage in Glasgow in 1867. Man's mother Corina had been sent away to school at a Catholic convent in America where her aunt, Emmanuel de Martini was a nun (Sr. Mercedes). Corina also had an uncle who was a Catholic priest in Arima, Monsignor C.B. de Martini. Harris and Corina Brash raised their children in the Catholic faith, and lived in the rural Tucker valley estate. Harris Brash later managed San Carlos estate, about 9 miles north of the town of Arima, in the Heights of Guanapo, Northern Range. Man's early education was by a Governess called Miss le Cadre, who lived with the family in their Tucker Valley home. He later went to St Joseph's Convent Arima from Heights of Guanapo, along with his sisters "Toots" and Vicky. When he got his first job in Port of Spain, he boarded with Addie Devenish, a lady whom Man loved and always referred to as his second mother. Roaming the estates among crops of cocoa, bananas, coconuts, coffee and citrus must have been an idyllic and carefree childhood for Man and his siblings, though I'm sure they each had their share of chores around the homestead. They grew up joining in with the estate workers "dancing the cocoa". It is therefore unsurprising that in later years, he formed his own company, B.H. Brash & Co. Ltd., curing cocoa and coffee beans for export. His grandaughter Isabel Brash carries on the family love for cocoa beans in her Trinidad artisan chocolate business called Cocobel Chocolate. Harris Brash and Corina Hart in 1904 Bernard (Man) Brash's parents The Sheppard Family in 1828 Nineteen-year old Jessie is seated next to her mother, holding her sister Florence With the blessing of her widowed mother and much to the excitement of her younger siblings, Jessie and Bernard Henry McNee (Man) Brash were married on 29 August, 1936. In her memoirs, Jessie's mother Elsie wrote "he was a fine young man and she a happy bride". Though the Sheppards were staunch Presbyterians, they were married at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church on Richmond Street, Port of Spain, a stone's throw away from the Sheppard family home. Jessie vowed to raise their children in the Catholic faith, as was required by the Church. She faithfully kept her promise. Jessie & Man's Family One year after Jessie and Man were married, they welcomed the first of their four children into the world, on 17 August 1937. They named their firtborn Bernard Harris Michael Brash - Bernard after his father, Harris after his Brash grandfather. Bernard married Ruth Ann Ganteaume and they had three children - Elizabeth, Rosanna and Bernard. He passed away in 2017 when he was 80 years old, having had an impressive career as Commander of the Trinidad & Tobago Coast Guard. On 29 October 1939, along came the child that Jessie would affectionately call her "gold bead". Charles Anthony Brash was named after his grandfather Charles (Charlie) Sheppard. Charles joined the oil industry in Trinidad, becoming one of the country's leaders of the oilfield services sector. He is the Chairman and Founder of Well Services Petroleum Company Ltd. and has recently been honoured as a Trinidadian Hero for his his outstanding contribution to oil production over the past sixty years. Charles and his wife Rosalind Thavenot, are the proud parents of six children - Charles (known by his second name Anthony), David, Charlene, Rachel, Daniel and Isabel. Maurice Brash, Jessie and Man's third son, became a well-known actor, singer, radio personality, and a highly sought after voice-over artist for many advertisements. He has performed in numerous television shows and soap operas, stage plays and presentations. Born in Woodbrook on June 10, 1947, Maurice was educated at Fatima College where he went on to teach French after studying Languages at the University of the West Indies. On his return from a scholarship to France in 1975, Maurice led the St. Dominic Savio Choir to become most outstanding Secondary School Choir. In 1989, the French Government awarded him the “Palmes Academiques” for his contribution to the teaching of French language and culture. In 2015 Maurice was inducted into the Fatima Hall of Achievement for his outstanding contribution to his Alma Mater. After three boys, Jessie must have been thrilled when, at 42 years old, she delivered their last child - a girl! Rosalind Elsie Theresa Brash, born on 5 April 1951, was the beautiful blonde baby of the family and was given the name Elsie after Jessie's mother. Her growing up years were filled with piano and vocal training. She has performed in several concerts, sometimes singing duets with Maurice. As small children, she and Maurice even sang duets on the Sunday afternoon "Auntie Kay Show" - a Radio Trinidad programme showcasing children's talent - before the days of television in Trinidad. Rosalind is an accomplished soprano, having won many awards at the annual music festivals. She has sung at countless weddings in Trinidad and Houston, where she lived for a while with her husband, David Voisin. Rosalind and David have one son, Daniel. Jessie saw to it that all her children were sent to piano lessons at an early age. As very young children, she would seat them on her upright piano where she accompanied them during her numerous tea parties and social functions, many held for charity. At Christmas time she would have them perform for the sick at hospitals, as well as for the Princess Elizabeth Home for Children. Maurice recalls: "Her home at 23 O'Connor and then at 38 O'Connor Streets welcomed so many members of our family on both sides. At 23 O'Connor people we had never met would come into our drawing room and play the piano, because the neighbours said Mrs. Brash wouldn't mind. That was when you never locked the house. Our homes were always full of music and singing." I have warm and happy memories of my Aunt Jessie playing the piano at Grandma Sheppard's legendary Christmas Parties where all of her grandchildren would be asked to perform. Auntie Jessie brought the family together around her piano at countless family gatherings. She also was an accomplished organist, and provided music at church for weddings of many family members. Sadly, Jessie's husband Man passed away on 20th February 1970 at age 59. After his death when she was 60 years old she decided to start teaching and took over a small primary school called St. Anthony’s Private School. Three years later, she ran her school from her Woodbrook home, on 38 O'Connor Street. Her closest sister Ida, by then also a widow, moved in to live with her and together they nurtured and taught young children, always including music in their daily curriculum. Jessie's contribution to music and culture in Trinidad has been invaluable. The newspaper articles which I've transcribed below give testimony to her life of music and the high esteem in which she was held. It's heartwarming to know that The Jessie Brash Memorial Trophy is presented each year to outstanding musicians at Trinidad & Tobago Music Festival. Jessie passed away on 23 April 2002 in her ninety-third year, leaving behind a large family of whom she and her husband Man would be very proud today. Her rich legacy of music and kindness will live on forever in the hearts of all her family and everyone who knew and loved her. 1985 - Valerie singing at a family party in Barbados accompanied by Jessie, Standing behind us are her sisters Flo and Ida Newspaper Articles Sunday Express, February 28, 1993

 In 1918 she provided piano music for silent movies. She was only eight then. She remembers feeling sad during a movie she played for “The Transgressors” about a father who neglected his daughter. How could one forget some of the “beautiful” actors - Ramon Navarro and Mary Pickford? 

“I played for silent films when I went to spend holidays with my grandmother” said Jessie Brash, 83, of her grandmother Christina Gomez from Sangre Grande. There was a resident pianist, but I just filled in for fun. I did it about a dozen times.” The name of the Sangre Grande cinema eluded her, but not all of the memories were a blur. She recalled the “cocoa people” would pay monthly for a cinema box which was available to any family member. The cinema manager, one Mr. Watson, usually asked Jessie’s grandmother for permission for her to play. for the movies. During sad scenes, she played such tunes as Hearts and Flowers or I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles.

 “The piano was below the screen so I had to look up at the screen while playing and change the music as was necessary. Silent movies were very nice. They had lovely actors and very handsome men,” said Brash, mother of Maurice Brash, opera singer, actor, teacher and Prime 106 news announcer.

 She didn’t play for silent movies at the London Theatre, now Astor, in Port of Spain, but Brash remembers that it cost a shilling to go to balcony, six pennies for house and three pennies for pit. Ever so often, management had an “egg night”. Patrons who showed up with an egg got in free. Egg night, as you can imagine, was special.

 As Bishop Anstey High School students, Brash and a friend, Lynette Brown, took turns at the piano playing marches and show numbers from the English musicals Showboat and The Girlfriend for their fellow students to march into their classrooms. They were about 12.

 As a child, Brash received some basic training from a German music teacher living in Gray Street, St. Clair, who she remembers as Nothnagel. Twice weekly she was tutored in the classics. However, she thinks her talent lies in playing music by ear. She considers it a gift. It must have been a trait she inherited from her father, Charles Sheppard, whose instruments were the violin and mandolin. Her father was a partner in Salvatori, Scott and Co. Ltd., a general dry goods store that was located where the Salvatori building now stands on Independence Square, Port of Spain. “We used to have some beautiful music evenings” said Brash of her upbringing.

 From the cinema to the school, Brash then took her talent to the Music Festival. She formed the Brash Quartet with violinist Elsie Pereira and cellist Beatrice Tibbets. They won at least a dozen certificates with their renditions of chamber music.

 During World War II, Brash, comedian Lundy de Montbrun, Boscoe and Sheila Holder, and blind pianist Maurice Connor, entertained the American soldiers stationed in Trinidad. The Holders weren’t married then but Boscoe played piano and Sheila sang. Brash dressed her two sons, Bernard and Charles, like soldiers in khaki jacket and pants and took them to the weekly Sunday concerts which were organized to boost the Yankees’ morale.
The musical evenings that Brash enjoyed during childhood have not disappeared entirely. She sometimes teams up with Syl Dopson on clarinet, John Henderson on cuatro,vionists Carl Stodart and Elsie Pereira, bass cellist Philip Habib and Ken Kelshall on the mouth organ at the Diego Martin home of pianist Yvonne Burnett, to make music.

 This spontaneous orchestra plays such waltzes as Ramona, Charmaine and Desert Song. When the spirit becomes infectious, some of the musicians give in to the mood. They drop their instruments, put their arms around one another and do a tango, waltz, fox trot or the rhumba.
 These old-fashioned dances are a throw-back to the days when popular music had mellower melody and gentler rhythm. The times when people really danced. They moved around the room. Launched their heads back. Threw their feet in the air.
 The ballroom dances have been replaced by the soca bogle, the flex, the butterfly and the bubble. Style and grace in motion have given way to waves and gyrations.
Nowadays, said Brash, people listen to noise.
 And couples, she notes, “rent-a-tile.”

 MELODIES FROM AN AGE OF GRACE 

 Newsday, Sunday May 5, 2002 

 We observe the passing of another outstanding woman, Jessie Brash, on Wednesday April 24. The funeral service took place on April 25 at the St Theresa’s Roman Catholic Church in Woodbrook where Jessie had been the organist for 30 years, never accepting any payment for a talent she felt she owed to her God.

 Born Jessie Mabel Sheppard on November 22, 1909, the first of Charles and Elsie Sheppard’s 12 children, she married Bernard “Man" Brash in 1936, a union which produced four children, Bernard, Charles, Maurice and Rosalind, 11 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren.

 When her husband died in 1970, leaving no estate, Jessie acquired a small school from Marion De Montbrun at the corner of Roberts and Alfredo Streets in Woodbrook, and determinedly turned St. Anthony’s Private School into a haven for young children on whom she lavished love while giving them an adventure into learning, singing and an awareness of God.

 But it was Jessie’s passion for music which was overriding. With her father she shared a love for music before her feet could barely reach the pedals.
 He even had her play the piano for a silent movie in a neighborhood cinema when his friend, the cinema owner, found himself minus a pianist one evening.

 My memory of this upright woman was seated at the piano accompanying the dancers of Thora Dumnbell’s dance school with heart and soul. And this she did for more than 30 years.

 Those were Jessie’s happiest years and we are told “Thora’s friendship was very dear to her, as was her friendship with Elsie Pereira and Beatrice Tibbits with whom she spent many years playing beautiful music, winning Music Festival awards and driving her late husband who had no ear for music, round the bend.”

 In 1973, the indomitable woman purchased No. 38 O’Connor Street on the strength of her good name alone. A time when your good name was worth something. The house became a haven for many, from her children for whom she was a healing force, to her sister Ida and many whom she helped by holding charity events at the Woodbrook house. Her mother, Elsie, in a short appreciation of her children, once compared Jessie to a diamond. 

Jessie’s children and friends felt the comparison was only valid in the worth of the stone, but not as a cold, hard and showy jewel, for Jessie was the essence of warmth, gentleness and genuine, unpretentious beauty.
 Hazel Ward-Redman once described her as the prettiest lady she ever saw.

 But, said eulogist, Bernard Tappin, “her beauty lay in the gentlest of her voice and in the generosity she showed everyone, for none entered her home without being invited to share a meal, even when she didn’t know if there was anything in the kitchen to eat.”

 Jessie’s faith in God was so strong that nothing phased her and up to the day before she was admitted to the nursing home, where she died peacefully, answered the question “How you going?” with the words “I’m going but ah eh gone yet!”

 Jessie had begun a short semi-autobiography called “An office affair” which she eventually dictated to her close friend Ann Pouchet after diabetes had claimed her eyesight. 

Jessie smiled at the piano, smiled when telling the only joke she could remember about the king who was castrated, smiled when organizing some little concert for someone in need, and smiled when singing the “ole lady walk a mile and a half” calypso as she tried to negotiate the walker with the help of Josephine, Anne Marie and Angela. JESSIE’S GONE, CHURCH ORGAN SILENCED

 By Angela Pidduck Compiled by Valerie Sheppard - 27 September, 2022 With thanks for contributions from: Rosalind (Brash) Voisin - Jessie's daughter Joan (Sutherland) Leggett - Niece of Jessie's husband, Bernard "Man" Brash Research reference for Nothnagel: "The Germans in Trinidad" by Fr. Anthony de Verteuil Videos by Meindert van der Meulen - Valerie's husband Jessie's children Charles, Rosalind and Maurice surrounded by some of her grands and great-grands at a Sheppard Family gathering Trinidad, 11 September, 2022

Family Videos ~ Snippets of Memories ~ Robert Sheppard and his sister Jessie, Trinidad 1993 Jessie Brash at her Piano At John and Jennifer(Gibbon) MacLean's home Trinidad, February 1989 At the home of John & Valerie Sheppard , Wareham, England, October 10, 1991 Robert Sheppard and his sister Jessie, February 23, 1993 Musical evening at O'Connor Street, Port-of-Spain Trinidad, February 23, 1993 Mother and Daughter Memories of Andrew Sheppard Filmed around 1966 My mother, Betty Sheppard in Barbados These are not professional recordings. They are unedited, so you can hear the scratchiness of the vinyl LP record. Jessie sang to an instrumental versions of the songs, and was recorded by her brother Malcolm at his home at Shine Street, Port of Spain, Trinidad - circa 1958. She was well known in her day for her beautiful voice, and often performed as soloist at weddings and other functions. (Images used are my own photos of Holland and Canada in Autumn; photos of Jessie and the Mendes family are copies of her own family collection. ) At The Gibbons, Trinidad, February 1989 St. Augustine Days , February 26 1993 Home of Patrick & Sybil Gibbon Trinidad Carnival 1993 Alan Sheppard with Spice & Company Sheppard sisters and Joan Bodu in the stands 50th Wedding Anniversary Don & Audrey, California, March 18 1993 Auntie Sybil's (DELICIOUS) Prune Ice Cream Crane Hotel, Barbados - July 25, 2013 Peter Sheppard playing the bones Barbados - July 2011 Valerie Sheppard - live recording from a television showin Barbados - December 1967 Wedding day Valerie Sheppard and Tony Archer July 16, 1966 - Barbados My youngest son Phil Archer singing "Angels" Little Bentley, Barbados. Wedding day Meindert & Valerie 27 July, 2013 Shown on September 13th, 2015 at my mother Betty's 90th birthday party. Made with love. Wedding of my daughter Ingrid Archer and Eduardo Martinez at St. James Parish Church Barbados, 1995 Loving and unforgettable father and husband - my Tony Archer - "I Will Tell Your Story" 23 March 1939 - 14 July 1984

"Morne Jaloux" - Grenada Written on July 1, 1988 by my father, Andrew Desmond Sheppard (transcribed from personal family memorabilia) January 1941. An automobile accident in Trinidad, I was thrown out of the “rumble” or “dicky” seat of a car when a drunken taxi driver collided with the car in which I was a passenger. This occurred at the early hours of the New Year. When I could, I accepted an invitation by friends to go to Grenada to recuperate. I suffered broken ribs and was black and blue all over. Otherwise fine. My mother’s sister was married to Uncle Louis , a Grenadian, who survived his wife who died in childbirth. Louis owned a basic hotel “Halifax” and I spent my stay between Uncle Louis and my cousin George, whose mother died upon his birth. The natural charm and friendliness of all Grenadians was impressive. My house is your house. I quickly made several friends and visited many places. The one place that has stuck in my mind is “Morne Jaloux”. It was a beautiful morning and we swam at Grand Anse beach and picknicked in the countryside. Around 5.00 p.m., another cousin took his sister, her friend and myself for a long drive over the hills, passing the Richmond Hill Prison on the way. We were to visit “L’Anse aux Epines” which area is now occupied by the airport. While driving, I noticed a derelict building at the end of a long driveway. Inquiry informed me that this was the notorious Morne Jaloux Estate Great House. Youthful curiosity and the quest for adventure attracted us to investigate this ancient and obviously neglected abode. Diffidently, our nervous driver, Gordon, drove his little Hillman down the badly overgrown dirt road which appeared to be unused for a long period. It was still light, but the sun was about to disappear. We cautiously approached the forbidding looking structure, whose 12 front steps of concrete were cracked and dangerous to climb. We all stayed close together, being uncertain of what lay within the crumbling walls of this erstwhile mansion of better days. Doors did not exist. Those there were rotted and lying on the wooden floor. Windows were hanging at various angles. The floors had long rotted, which was due to the lack of a roof, which had also “gone through the eddoes”. The base of a large concrete water cistern was all that was left. We carefully picked our way through this victim of time, neglect and weather. It must have been a beautiful residence and was quite large. We searched diligently for some evidence of human habitation, but there was none. Morne Jaloux house looked so unattractive that no one would really choose to stay there. So there she stood, a skeleton of the past overlooking the quaint city of St. Georges and the roaming countryside. Beautiful site, but not for living. Satisfied that there was nothing at Morne Jaloux we continued our drive to “L’Anse aux Epines”. On our return trip, I persuaded Gordon to take us back to the old house to see if anything had changed. You see, this gaunt, lonely structure had gained the unenviable reputation of being a “haunted house”. Under protest and with much apprehension, we went back to the house. It was now dark, about 7.30. We parked facing the front steps with headlights on, engine off. Sitting quietly in the car and with nothing happening, we decided to walk closer to the house - car lights shining on the entrance, but what were we looking for? - there was just nothing! After a few minutes we headed back to the little Hillman. No sooner had we entered the car than all hell broke loose. There, right in front of us with the car lights shining on it, was a man-sized figure, not solid but transparent and glowing white, moving quickly to and fro in front of the house and the steps. Simultaneously, the most horrible and loud sounds emanated from the house - like grinding metal - like a sugar factory. This was accompanied by other dreadful noises which sounded like several footballs being bounced all over the interior of the old house. Meanwhile, the remaining windows were flapping and flying. The fallen doors were being flung out of the house, down the steps. Worse was the constant flying through the air of large pieces of wood and stones which were slamming into our car. The two ladies fainted from sheer fright. Poor, nervous Gordon could not get the car started. In anxiety and altered judgement he had flooded the carburetor. We had to wait - now truly fearing for our lives. The theatre of horror played on - getting worse - we had to get out of there now! To get to the high grass driveway, we had to reverse towards a cliff which plunged at least a thousand feet down. Luckily we made it and pelted down the long, long driveway. All the way, with glasses rolled up, we were hearing and feeling sticks and stones hitting the poor little car. Later checking showed not a scratch. Once out of there, we hurried to the Richmond Hill Prison, where our good friends, the Banfields lived with their parents. Mr. Banfield was the Resident Superintendent of the prison. We were heartily welcomed by this lovely family who breathlessly listened to our horrible tale and were most concerned for the two young ladies who were still in a severe state of shock. Gordon was crying uncontrollably. He eventually suffered an irreparable nervous breakdown. Also, his sister, whose nervous nature was further provoked. She had many subsequent nervous traumas. The other lady had a most disastrous marriage, ending in her tragic demise. I pretended that it was all a big joke, but my hair still stands on end when I think, talk or write of this awful event in my life. By way of useless explanation, Mr. Banfield of the prison, and later Gordon’s grandfather, Uncle Louis, and several reliable people condemned our actions as irresponsible and crazy. For instance, we did not know that the area of Morne Jaloux was a large sugar estate. The house we investigated was the Great House where the French master resided with his family. We were told that this person was a tyrant and treated his staff and labourers with contempt, deprivation and cruelty. He was reputed to have put to death or tortured many who crossed his path. He was as ruthless as Napoleon. The resentment and ire that this terrible man evoked, built up to a crescendo, when one night he and his entire family were butchered and their remains scattered in and around that hateful house. Thereafter, the estate was abandoned and deserted. It was said that unseen knives and cutlasses had killed or maimed many intruders. The premises were uninhabitable. No one could tolerate the aura of hatred and terror which pervaded the atmosphere - Morne Jaloux house would also perish violently. Several years later, I visited the scene of that horror-filled evening. To my great relief, I saw that there was a beautiful residential settlement in place of the Great House and its surroundings. “Morne Jaloux” house was mysteriously destroyed by fire. Our of evil cometh good. Richmond Hill Prison, Grenada (source: The U.S. National Archives)

~ Wedding Photos ~ The children of Charles Sheppard & Elsie Gomez (Click on the photos to enlarge and scroll through) Jessie & Man Jessie Mabel Sheppard and Bernard Henry McNee Brash 29 Aug 1936 Boysie & Elsa Joseph Alfred Sheppard and Elsa Carmen Fernandes November 1938, Trinidad Lena Joyce de Sousa married Albert Charles (Bertie) Sheppard who was ill with malaria on their wedding day, 25 November, 1938, Port of Spain, Trinidad John & Juliet John Herbert Sheppard and Juliet Inez Fernandes 20 April, 1939 - Sacred Heart Church, Trinidad Madge & Vin Mary Marjorie Sheppard and George Vincent Gonsalves 14 Sep 1940, Trinidad George & Norah George Havelock Sheppard and Elenora Juliet Laing 27 Feb 1942, Trinidad Audrey & Don Audrey Ethel Sheppard and Donald Elias Clark Trinidad, 18 Mar 1943 Robert & Angela 11th April, 1942 - Trinidad Andrew Sheppard was bestman Sybil Sheppard standing next to groom Sybil & Patrick Sybil Elsie Sheppard and Patrick Vernon Acland Gibbon 19 Jun 1943 Andrew & Betty Andrew Desmond Sheppard and Frances Elizabeth St. Hill 31 Jul 1943, Barbados Colin & Flo Edith Florence Sheppard and Victor Colin Johnson 4 May 1946, Newtown, Trinidad Boysie & Winnie Joseph Alfred Sheppard and Winifred Tilly van Amson 29 July, 1960 - Lutheran Church, Suriname

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

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

George Robert Gomez Trinidad school years (Click on photos to enlarge and scroll through) December, 1914 List of successful First Class Honours students in college. George received distinctions in English, Latin and Mathematics. Island Scholar 1916 General Merit - 1915 George is at the top of the College. CIC War Memorial publication Past students who served. George Gomez is seen top centre. Private Gomez - India (4th left) Go to his Letters from India Chief Medical Officer - St. Kitts & Nevis Dr. Gomez, the surgeon (Click on photos below to enlarge and scroll through) Alexandria Hospital Now a heritage site, this is where Dr. George Gomez worked as Chief Medical Officer, Nevis. DSC03673.jpg Dr. Gomez salary: 375 pounds, travel allowance 30 pounds, position of Medical Officer District 3, appointed 5/3/29. Date first appointed to Colonial Government 21/12/24. Authority to conduct private practice. Condolence card The Boy Scout Association of Nevis's condolence card, dated the day of the funeral, 8 September, 1931. The doctor had died at 2.45pm the previous day. He was buried in the morning, less than a day later. At 8am that morning, arriving on the 'St. Ursula' from Nevis, were numerous mourners including the Scouts of the Ist Nevis Troop. George was the Assistant Scout Commissioner and Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Boy Scouts Local Association. 22nd September, 1931 The St. Kitts-Nevis Daily Bulletin 9th September, 1931 The doctor's flower-covered grave, Springfield Cemetery, next to the Cunningham Hospital, Basseterre, St Kitts. The cemetery had not been long opened, hence the desolate appearance. The grave around July 1932 By this time, Jessie Gomez had returned to Scotland with her three young children. Probate Notice 1st October, 1931 The St. Kitts-Nevis Daily Bulletin Message from Dr. Gomez' widow, Jessie. Jessie, Joseph and Euphemia Gomez The Gomez children circa 1935, after they had left Nevis and settled in Scotland with their mother, after the death of their father in 1931. See also: GEORGE ROBERT GOMEZ THE GOMEZ SAGA - NEVIS

The Sheppard Residence No. 30 Richmond Street, Port of Spain, Trinidad Written on June 1988 by my father, Andrew Desmond Sheppard (transcribed from personal family memorabilia) As children, our father had often told us this hair-raising story. After he passed away, we discovered that he had also penned it from his personal memories, without the aid of any historical research. Trinidad newspaper archives recently discovered in 2022 reveal that at age 66 my father was recalling a chilling discovery that happened in 1937, when he was 15 years old. Sheppard Archive Charles and Elsie Sheppard (née) Gomez and their family, at their residence No. 30 Richmond Street, Port-of-Spain - 1928. Baby Arthur in his mother's lap passed away when he was four months old, and Charles Sheppard died three years after this photo was taken. My father Andrew is the boy seated on the carpet between two of his sisters. Our father bought this very large house in Port of Spain, Trinidad, as a home for his very large family of wife and twelve children. It was purchased from a Spanish family named Santelli. The architecture was Spanish in design and it contained twelve rooms, ten of which were bedrooms, six upstairs and four at ground level. It was a beautiful home with ample space for all of us and our cousins and friends. 

What we did not know was that our home occupied an area of Trinidad which was truly historic. The story unfolds.

 After our father died, many efforts were made for us to remain at 30 Richmond Street, but ultimately our mother yielded to the demands of commerce. She sold the house and land to an automobile distributor whose nearest competitor was immediately opposite. Business was encroaching and we removed to a smaller house in a residential area. Sad to say, our beautiful old home was demolished to make way for a large, ugly automobile garage and showroom.
 Sybil Elsie (Sheppard) Gibbon remembers when these two pictures were taken: "It was on a Sunday afternoon on the beautiful marble steps of 30 Richmond Street. I must have been about seven. Andrew was too small. Boysie, Bertie, John, George and Robert. The girls with the hats were Jessie, Madge and Ida. I was in the too small bunch!" While digging down to prepare the foundations for the new building the workmen stopped and stared in disbelief. There were several human skeletons lying in disarray and many were in grotesque and strange positions. I picked up a human skull and like most others, there was evidence of a blow or a gash. Some limbs and bones were separated from their skeletons. Mystery surrounded this ghastly discovery. Secrecy followed. Police were at a loss to identify who these people were. A total of seven skeletons were unearthed. The Government pathologist and other scientists, through chemical and other analyses, determined the ages of the skeletons, who all died at approximately the same time, when pirates roamed the Caribbean seas. The skeletons were all male and were of men ranging from 18 to 30 years of age. They all died violently. A Mr. Potter, a Trinidad historian, carefully pieced the components of this mystery together and arrived at the following conclusion.

 Where No. 30 Richmond Street was located was on land reclaimed from the sea in the Gulf of Paria and only 15 miles from Venezuela. Trinidad was the ideal place for Spanish and English pirates to confront each other also providing safe harbour and hideouts when required. At the water’s edge (at 30 Richmond Street) certain pirates formed a club and erected a building for their clubhouse. A place for celebration, debauchery and drunken sprees which generally ended in fights and sudden death. The resultant corpses were thrown outside the clubhouse and floated away with the falling tide. Until one night, a very large fish entered the narrow channel to partake of drunken corpses when it must have become stuck and could not get back to the open sea. The grampus of a fish died and blocked the exit of the deceased pirates from entering Davy Jones’ locker. The stench became unbearable and the surviving pirates deserted the place, which was abandoned. In the course of time, all skeletons were covered until they were discovered that morning in January 1938. Question: Why did the Spanish gentleman, Mr. Santelli, decide to build that beautiful Spanish-style house on that particular piece of land? (Incidentally, the skeleton of a large fish was uncovered at a spot which could have been the channel entrance). Could it be that there was buried treasure and that this area was pinpointed on a map which originated in Spain, whence Mr. Santelli came?

 Romantic Trinidad! Always the lure of pirates. As children playing under our house, we dug and found the odd bone and other oddments but we heard rumours even then of pirates’ treasure, but never paid serious attention thereto. Strangely, the human skeletons referred to were found in 12 to 18 inches of earth.

 Several other theories were given, including military skirmishes between English, French and Spanish soldiers, victims of the cholera plague, all of which were strong possibilities excepting for one fact. The times of death as shown by pathological tests through chemistry pointed to the time in Trinidad’s historic past when Spanish pirates frequented and fought in our waters and buried their stolen treasures on land. We have never heard if the new owners of 30 Richmond Street found anything else besides bones. This story was covered in a full page of the Trinidad Guardian newspaper of the day, and was the subject of a local calypso entitled “The Richmond Street Skeletons”. Click on the articles from the Trinidad Guardian newspaper of Friday December 31, 1937 to enlarge and read. Thanks to my cousin Carol-Lyn (Johnson) Hart for discovery of the newspaper articles. This calypso called "Seven Skeletons Found in the Yard" by Lord Executor is most likely the one to which my father refers, given the era in which it was written. See the lyrics below. Hideous discoveries and monstrous crime Always happen at the Christmas time Hideous discoveries and monstrous crime Always happen at the Christmas time For the old year murders and the tragedy For the New Year serious calamity What shocked Trinidad Those seven skeletons that the workmen found in that yard What marred the Christmas festivity Was a New Year double catastrophe When a man and a woman on the ground was found With bloodstains upon the ground The husband was arrested but they were too late For the poison he drunk sent him to the gate That shocked Trinidad Those seven skeletons that the workmen found in that yard In Saint James the population went wild When in the savannah they found a child The hair was auburn and complexion pink Which placed the watchman in a mood to think "How can a mother despise and scorn A little angel that she has born?" That was more sad Than the seven skeletons that the workmen found in that yard A lorry was speeding to Port of Spain When it knocked down the cyclist into the drain It was going as fast as the lightning flash When the cyclist received the lash The mother cried out in sorrows and pain I am not going to see my boy-child again That is more sad Than the seven skeletons that the workmen found in that yard While the workmen they were digging the ground The rotten skulls of human beings they found Feet together and head east and west Number five was a watchman among the rest Number six had the hands and the feet on the chest And number seven a mysterious guest That shocked Trinidad Those seven skeletons that the workmen found in that yard. More intriguing family history began when the Sheppard family lived at 30 Richmond Street, and the first Ford dealership was located across the street at 25 Richmond Street Click HERE to read the story "Friendships - Partnerships - Family Ties "Truth is stranger than fiction" ~ Mark Twain