It is with great sadness to finally read and to review the state funeral of a truly great man and one that I looked up to while growing up. Given his age and the stroke he suffered brought back difficult memories for me. It was only on Dec. 9th that I gave the eulogy for my grandmother who a mere 39 days after celebrating her 100 birthday, also suffered a stroke and died days after.
I did recall her stories of indentured servants coming to Trinidad and the historical changes she witnessed. Reminiscing about Sir Ellis brings back that sense of history, that sense of nostalgia, that sense of where we came from and what we experienced as a nation. Could you imagine these old people saying to their children whose names are symbolically represented as, 'Trinidad and Tobago' "Is this is how ah raise allyuh to be today" 'yuh eh see as a society of great great grand children of the elders. some ah we deserve a royal cutass for how things are today?
I also recalled the death of another former president whose house and family was next door to us; our back yards joined. As a young boy I played in his yard and did not realize the magnitude of this family until now in my moments of reflection:
Noor Hassanali was a civilized and principled person and a good man. He
rose from humble beginnings in Victoria Village and advanced from stage to
stage in his life and career by sheer merit, discipline and determination, not
compromising his values, not neglecting his family and family life, never giving
up any of the varied interests that demonstrated what he learned from Victoria
Village and Naparima College. He had learnt that the uniqueness of the self is
discovered and expressed not in isolation and aloofness, but in relation to other
selves in families, communities and societies.
2.00 p.m.
Victoria Village was the beginning. Victoria Village had started as a free
African village. In his words, it was a place where Africans and Indians had a
common interest in making a living as cane farmers or workers on the sugar
estate. The young people played football and cricket together. “We used to play
on the road because there was not much traffic. Sometimes it was up-the-road
versus down-the-road; sometimes it was Creole versus Indians. It was just a way
of picking teams, nothing more. There were close relationships between families
of different races. One man, a carpenter—he was a Demming—would come home
and tell stories, jokes; any number of stories. He would talk and talk and talk and
then we would have dinner like family. I knew nothing about racial prejudice until
after I started going to college.”
Justice Hassanali never angled for worldly eminence
I recalled in the 60's playing up the road and down the raod cricket and football in the streets, It was guys like the Demmings' (two houses down from me in London Street) relatives, Roberts encouraged me to come out and play with the then Greyhound Dovers when I was about 16 back then in Skinner Park.
May these who have gone on before us, find eternal rest for there enduring work and energy in the building of our nation.
