My early encounters with greatness

by Patrick Hunter
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By PATRICK HUNTER

As a child, growing up in Jamaica, there have been historical passages that stand out very clearly in my memory. My mother worked for, what could reasonably be called, plantation owners. The Walkers of Mountain Spring in St. James and, later, with Ilene Clayton in Catadupa.
There were few outstanding things that I remember from the early days in Mountain Spring. Catadupa, however, provided some of the more memorable occasions. I became more knowledgeable about how things grow and how animals were cared for as this plantation provided those opportunities.
It was in Catadupa where I had my primary education and where I passed my Common Entrance Examination to get into secondary education at Cornwall College in Montego Bay.
Clayton was involved in politics during this period and represented the area at the St. James Parish Council. Her attempts to represent the area in the Jamaican legislature were unsuccessful.
At the time, there was much discussion about the future of the West Indies Federation – its viability and its future. Although I wasn’t fully aware of the arguments for or against continuing in the Federation, the political party, the People’s National Party (PNP), was against staying in. Clayton was a member of the PNP and therefore supported the idea of exiting the federation.
It was on one of the campaign swings by the PNP to bring the message of “going alone” that I was introduced to the then Chief Minister of Jamaica, Norman Manley. I actually shook his hand – I was about 10 or 11 at the time and had only just received the news of my success with the common entrance exam. Although he wasn’t personally responsible for my getting the pass, it certainly felt like he did. I still treasure that moment.
In 1961, Jamaica became an independent nation, following a referendum on the federation and negotiations with Great Britain.
I never met Marcus Garvey, obviously, but there was much talk about him and his teachings and especially his message of “Back to Africa”. Needless to say, while his message was adopted by some in Jamaica, his opinions – unlike the history we were taught – were never taught in schools. The period saw the emergence of the Rastafari who took up the message of “Back to Africa” and which called for the government’s support in that movement of repatriation.
I can’t say that I ever met Bob Marley, but my only encounter with him was at Cornwall Beach in Montego Bay the day after he had headlined a concert at a local theatre. There he was, sitting by himself reading a copy of Eldridge Cleaver’s Soul on Ice. That was indeed remarkable because the book was officially banned in Jamaica. I remember thinking I wonder if any cop would try to arrest him for that.
Though I was never a member of the Roman Catholic Church, I was asked to take part in the installation of the new bishop of the newly created Diocese of Montego Bay. At the time I was co-president of a Catholic youth group which accepted membership from non-Catholics.
One of my maternal great-grandfathers, Uriah Leopold Brown, was an educator and headmaster of the primary school in Seaford Town. He was also a lay preacher and Justice of the Peace and very much a district “go-to” for any help.
Then, there is Edna Brown, my mother. She went to join the Ancestors last month. She won’t appear in any “Who’s Who” nationally or internationally, but she will always be the most important person I have ever met and known. She was 98 years old. Now, my sister and I have to learn to live without her being physically there.
One of the many disparaging comments that used to be (and probably still is) levelled against young Black men who get in trouble with the law is the lack of a father figure in the home. My mom was a single mother. And, while there is some truth to the saying that it takes a village to raise a child, our mother never made us feel that we needed a father in the house. She worked hard to make sure that we had the necessities for a good life, and if she was away, she stayed very much in touch. We are missing you, Mom.
Thank you. Rest well!
Email: pa**************@gm***.com/ X & Thread: @pghntr.

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