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Sonia’s Harbour View
Memories My Story from LOT 711, Harbour View
The following is my recollection of growing up in Harbour View. It dates back to October 1960 when my family moved there as one of the earliest settlers in the community. It covers in the main, up to 1974 when I left to join the military. The people who touched our lives as youngsters are too numerous to mention and so won’t all be mentioned. The names have not been changed to protect the innocent as there is nothing slanderous in my recollections. I trust readers will find it entertaining and revealing and will not take me to task about hopscotching in the chronological order of events. I have sought inputs from my siblings who have obliged and must credit their remarkable memory and editing skills. The Big Move It was an October evening in 1960 when my parents, with the help of movers packed all our belongings including our dog Blackie, in the back of the moving truck and left our home in Oakland Crescent headed for the house my father had bought in Harbour View. Blackie had a companion named Brownie, but she had met her demise when she got snarled in a barbwire fence at Oakland Crescent and therefore did not make the move with Blackie. Before the streets were named and numbered our new home was known only as Lot 711, Harbour View. It was later to become 11 Riverside Drive, Kingston 17. The ride in the back of the truck was a first time experience. It took forever and we had to negotiate some dreadful roads in the vicinity of the Rockfort Mineral Bath. Harbour View seemed the furthest residential area from downtown Kingston and certainly from St Michael’s school where I was in the infant school, being only 4 years old.
The Early Days The roads in Harbour View were yet to be paved. I recall when we turned on Riverside Drive we had to negotiate some serious terrain to get to Lot 711. Once we were settled into our new home it was all about getting used to the logistics of getting about. The walk to the bus stop on Fort Nugent Drive was through the unoccupied homes and unfenced yards that were to become quickly inaccessible as persons moved into their new homes. The Shopping Centre was not built for a few years and so Mr Yap at Sargasso Drive and Mr Tai at 17 Reef Avenue (before he moved to Neptune), were the main purveyors of foodstuff unless one travelled to John R Wong in Rockfort. The streets were eventually paved and drains installed as neighbours filled the community. Fences were built and trees planted. My father planted sugarcane, coconut (the root at which my mother planted our navel strings), lime (from which we supplied the neighbours), breadfruit, cherry, sweetsop, soursop, banana, pepper, gungoo, pomegranate, yellow yams, ackee, and mangoes of various types. We spent many a summer in the black mango tree getting mango highs. The Anglin’s moved in next door which should have been Number 13. They elected to make it 15 and so when the Simpsons arrived they had to select 15A. It was felt that this renumbering was to no avail as Mr Anglin passed away after only a few years. Being Presbyterian, my father sought out a church for us at 20 Jupiter Road on the east side of the River. The carport of the Johnson’s house was transformed each Sunday into the local Presbyterian Church until a final home was found on the beach across from Stellar Road. Tragedies It was a Sunday early in October of 1963 approximately three years after moving to Harbour View, that torrential rains gave residents living closest to the Hope River (Dry River) cause for concern. Earlier, my father and our neighbour, Mr Anglin took all the kids from both houses to see the Hope River where raging waters had residents speculating on the strength of the bridge. Residents grouped on either side of the bridge. All quite intrigued by the raging waters or maybe in disbelief at the amount of water in what was always a dry river. As far as the eye could see out in the Caribbean Sea, the Hope River had muddied the turquoise beauty. I remember Mr Anglin, in an effort to get his niece Marva to quit sucking her finger, threatened to throw her in the river if she continued. This was quite a scare for Knolly and with that he refused to go on the bridge, no chance of the raging waters pulling him in or being swept away with a collapse of the bridge. Mr Anglin’s threat however, had no effect on Marva as she continued to enjoy her thumb for many years. I wonder if her thumb-sucking had figured in her uncle’s demise? Perhaps not. We wouldn’t want to play on her conscience anyway. We then trekked back home for the usual rice and peas dinner. Each Sunday of life my mother cooked two pounds of rice and peas. When I got married and insisted on having stew peas and rice for my first Sunday dinner, my then wife Donna called my mother bitterly protesting my deviant behaviour. I did not relent and stew peas and rice it was. What liberation! On this quiet Sunday, there came a van down Riverside Drive with horn constantly blasting, to which my mother asked “why is the oil van coming on a Sunday?” Lo and behold, the alarm was that of a van being washed away by the raging waters coming down Riverside Drive. The Hope River had broken its bank behind Victor Green’s House at number 36 sending a wall of muddy water into houses. I recall seeing the mulch from the rose garden to the front of the house rise above the height of the window sill. The debris was deposited inside the house as we scampered out the back door through the Francis’ yard on Reef Avenue. We spent the next several months at the home of my father’s friend Everett Mair and his mother Aunt Gladys on Fort Nugent Drive. I think they might have been relatives actually since my Mother’s grandmother was a Mair. While living as refugees with Aunt Gladys we spent the months trying to rid our house of the mud and its awful stench. Every yard and house below number 36 was stained by the raging waters. For years the silt from that flood could be found behind the rubber skirting and between the linoleum floor tiles that were left intact. The initial rotting stench left a somewhat earthy aroma which has not left my olfactory system as yet. There were no fatalities in Harbour View but Jamaica suffered 11 fatalities and some £12m in damages. What was known to us as Flora Flood, Hurricane Flora continued its toll in the Caribbean with some 7,000 deaths, mainly in Haiti and Cuba. The bridge held up but was eventually replaced years later and now no longer exists since Tropical Depression Nicole in 2010. It is hoped that construction of a new four lane bridge will be completed in 2011. The river bank was reinforced with Gabion Baskets. This quite effectively kept the water in check for years. Unfortunately in recent years, persons would cut the baskets and remove some of the rocks, weakening the bank of the river behind Caribbean Terrace. Perhaps one day we will learn that protecting our environment is protecting our community. I can’t recall what happened to the two pounds of rice and peas that Sunday. It must have been consumed by Flora. I do recall though that we were out of school for several weeks until our lives came back to normal. We were greeted on our return to school as celebrity survivors. The Henton’s moved in at number 63 at the far end of the street. Mrs Henton eventually taught at Harbour View Primary where she churned out Common Entrance Full Place winners by the droves. As teachers, she and my mother were friends and we were at their house when Mr Henton was taken out into a car to go to the hospital. That was the last time I saw him. Although Paul looked a lot more like him growing up, Garth’s picture on Facebook is a far greater likeness. He had me worried for a brief moment. It was a peaceful evening when a loud explosion went off at the top of the street. A plume of smoke could be seen rising on the bank of the Hope River. Soon after, an ambulance was rushing past with persons to the hospital. A few boys had found an old metal object and were apparently playing catch with it when the mortar bomb fell and exploded. The Samms on Windy Way lost a son among the dead. I was to eventually join the JDF with the younger Samms, attend Officer training together in England and Flying training in Canada. When news reached Riverside Drive that a lady hanged herself on Driftwood Drive, the curious among us could not resist going to take a look at what this thing called suicide was about. It was obvious that we were confused and traumatized by what we had seen when Mrs. Anderson called us in to soothe us with some of her very special ice cold fruit punch. A kinder, sweeter, gentler lady is not easily found. She directed the choir at Harbour View United Church of Jamaica and Grand Cayman for most of my life and I was able to pay tribute to her in a recent celebration in her honour. Most traumatic was when news came that the young daughter of a family on Harbour Drive was brutally slain by the gardener in retaliation over some dispute with his employers We could not understand that anyone could commit such a savage act against an innocent child. As we grew older we lost Mrs Fong Yee at number 7 and Mrs Muir at number 47, Riverside Drive. It was difficult to understand that people could die so suddenly after seeming so healthy the week before. These tragedies were just a part of what moulded us as youngsters in this new and wonderful community where so many decided to grow their children. Many of us children fell within a ten year age band and either attended the same primary or high school. We knew each other fairly well but invariably hung out with those on our own street or perhaps as far as two streets away. Amazingly, we did not form gangs and did not have territorial disputes. I would like to credit that fact to the many churches, youth clubs, the many activities in which we engaged and the fact that Harbour View Primary and Vaz Prep, where many of our children attended school, were turning out some very smart kids. Kudos to the many wonderful teachers we had. Church There were nine churches in Harbour View and my brother and I went to all but the Adventist and the Church of God. If I must confess on his behalf, we were seeking suitable female friends and St Benedict’s is where the prettiest girls attended. Our time at St Benedict’s, however, was short-lived after my mother gave testimony at a Wednesday service asking the Lord to save her two sons who were made out to be boys that parents should not want their daughters to associate with. This only became clear when we were not selected or accepted for the usual friendship hugs during service the next Sunday. We continued our migration to St Boniface, Harbour View Moravian and then St Mark’s Methodist where we settled before migrating from Harbour View. St Mark’s for me was my coming of age. I learnt one of my greatest lessons in life. Hold no prejudices. Never prejudge people without knowing them and even then, don’t jump to negative conclusions about people. There was this strikingly handsome guy who was so cool he hardly spoke. He had the most beautiful girlfriend, was always neat and I just despised the guy out of envy. I came to know the guy at St Mark’s. I learnt he was one of the humblest persons one could know. He didn’t speak much because he had a bad stutter. I ended up despising myself for feeling the way I did about this guy as he turned out to be one of the finest human beings and someone anyone would want to have as a friend. No wonder all the girls liked him. The Lawson’s had a profound impact on my life. The daughters were among the fairest in the land. The family was close and Mr and Mrs Lawson had a way with young people. They openly embraced the friends of their children and made me feel a part of the family. When I ran into Mr Lawson at the Esso Station and he told me Denise was suffering cramps and he was nipping in to get her some suppositories, he not only taught me a new word but also how real men behaved. When I met Denise and Maxine on Fort Nugent Drive and they greeted me with an embrace and a peck on the cheek, in public, it changed my whole social behaviour. To this day I greet people in this way because it sets everyone at ease and is considered acceptable social skills. Having Sunday dinners at the Lawson’s was a special treat. My father, having migrated when I was 13, changed the dynamics of our household and I was happy to have met the Lawson’s and to be made to feel welcome in their home. Had we not migrated to St Mark’s this would not have been. I got my first acting stint there in an Easter play and conducted the Youth Choir much to the delight of the congregation. I spent many nights at the Catholic Rectory, home of Father Charles Dufour, training the St Benedict’s Choir to perform Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus. Regrettably, on the day of the performance I was unable to be there as the performance of the St Mark’s Youth Choir conflicted. Politics Eustace Bailey from Fort Nugent Drive was the PNP Councillor for the area. He also hosted the Citizens Association meetings at his house. I can’t recall who the JLP Councillor was but the MP was Keeble Munn (PNP) I think. If he wasn’t then he certainly whipped up a storm when they came to hold a meeting in the 60’s at the square on Seashore Place just at the end of Martello Drive and Windy Way. I was so small and the crowd was so dense that I somehow became separated from my parents on the Martello Drive side of the square and ended up on the Windy Way side. For the half hour or so that it took me to regain my bearing I went from a state of concern to deep panic. Having grown now to over six feet, gives me such an advantage to be able to look over most crowds to what is on the other side. Leading up to the 1972 elections Michael Manley’s entourage drove up Riverside Drive with the chant of the day “Power to the People”. The voting age was to be moved to 18 by the 1976 elections as Manley had found favour with the youth. By then of course, I had left Harbour View and was living in Up Park Camp. Not for the life of me can I put my hand on an incident or anything negative that I could say was politically motivated. Harmony, tolerance, community spirit and downright civility characterized our community. Could our parents have been such special people without our noticing? Apparently they were. Other Highlights Santa Claus came one year by air and supposedly landed at the airport and passed by the roundabout on his way to Kingston. Naturally, children were allowed to line the road to see Santa and to catch any sweets or other throwaways that he tossed. I had mixed feelings about that and remember being a bit disappointed about the whole thing. Nothing can surpass the occasion of the visit of the Emperor. The road to the airport was cluttered with people from all of Jamaica. Rastafarians who used to walk on the other side of the street, away from ‘Bun Head’, mingled openly with everyone. I saw what appeared to be a ship, perhaps representing the Black Star Liner, driving on the Airport Road at full speed ahead of the Emperor’s entourage. It was amazing the creativity of the Rasta community in terms of how they transformed their trucks into boats to their colourful adornments, flags and banners. When the Emperor finally came along in the Daimler of the Governor General it was pandemonium. An endless parade of Rastafarian spectacle followed the Daimler as it seemed that every Rasta in Jamaica was at the Palisadoes Airport. Interestingly, I didn’t hear any report of anything negative occurring surrounding that visit. The Harbour View Shopping Centre was built and we got our own John R Wong Supermarket. The centre doubled as the venue for Street Dances during ‘Festival’, our celebration of Independence. The Festival Songs would be performed here to the entertainment of everyone until the fun would be ended by a bottle throwing incident, much to the chagrin of everyone. My first trip to Martello Tower with the Quallo boys Errol, Clyde and Junior, was a refreshing experience until we started down the hill. One could view miles to the east, south and west. It was clear why it was a strategic observation point in the Coastal Defence System to warn against Napoleon’s ships. Once detected, word would be sent to Fort Charles, Rock Fort and Fort Augusta whose gun batteries were meant to engage invading French ships coming into the narrow entrance to Kingston Harbour. From Martello Tower, Harbour View was not a community of prefabricated concrete houses. It was a community filled with greenery and seemed peaceful from the top of the hill. So steep was the climb that it made the descent hazardous as we accelerated down the hill at near terminal velocity with only cactus to slow our descent; which it did. If you grew up in Harbour View and have not been to Martello Tower, you should plan to make the pilgrimage soon. Harbour View boasted our own Drive-In Cinema. My family’s first outing there was to see the James Bond film, Gold Finger. Disney’s Love Bug had persons going in very large numbers. When the intermission went on for too long, the patrons would urge the resumption by honking their horns. I used to stay up nights worried that the honking was as a result of a bad accident on the road to Bull Bay and wondered why they occurred so frequently. I slept better after my first outing to the Drive In. My most memorable trip to the movies there was quite an adventure. A group of us decent chaps from West Harbour View decided to take up the invitation of some really wayward friends from East Harbour View, who claimed to have free access to the movies. Having met with them ahead of movie time we eventually headed out on what decent persons anticipated to be the short walk to the Drive-In. After heading down to Caribbean Terrace, past the homes of Lexine Morris’ and Ann Borrowers’, we climbed the sea wall and headed along the beach to the east. Unaware of this access, the decent chaps did not dress for the terrain, nor train for the field craft that had to be employed to dodge the crashing waves as we approached and crawled through a barb-wired drain that only Lawrence and Wayne knew ran immediately in front of the giant screen. While free movies are fine, below the screen is by no means a good vantage point. We had to rest our necks for a good half an hour before we could even leave the place of punishment. We were to eventually lose our beloved Drive-In to the sea. Football Harbour View has become a virtual football Mecca in Jamaica as we keep churning out some of the best footballers Jamaica has seen. That is of course with the exception of Allan “Skill” Cole and Howard “Juicy” Bell. I still regard these two gentlemen as the Gold Standard for football skill. “Compound” was a grassless rocky field where all young boys whose parents would allow them, would try out for the Under-16 team. As a Cadet in school I learnt early in my trials at Compound to leave matters of this nature to the likes of the skilful Michael “Fat Eye” Thompson, the steady Conrad “Balance” Mullings and the safe Donovan “DV” Hayles and Michael “Little Jubi” Jones (whose older brother was Big Jubi). So we left Compound to the professionals and resorted to street football. We lost several balls, which went out of touch in the Simpson’s yard. Within the group with which I hung out there was no footballer of note to emerge but we all have epic matches of which to speak and it kept us out of trouble. Cricket Cricket was played on the riverbank behind the House of the Davidson boys. Wooden soda crates were the usual wicket as they could stand on their own but toppled easily when hit. There were no boundaries and one could continue to amass runs while fieldsmen searched for the ball between the rocks and bushes on the near periphery of the pitch. Woe be onto the batsman who is unaware that the ball has been found and continues to leave his crease in his quest for another run. Whatever was your bowling style you would get the ball turning in one direction or the other after hitting one of the many stones in the pitch. I am yet to hear of a cricketer of note emerging from the chaos we called cricket, but it kept us out of trouble. Track With Donald Quarrie being a son of Harbour View, sprinting was important to us. Occasionally, we would transform Riverside Drive into a race track. Bare-footed was the order of the day and this built character; and callouses of course. But what did it matter? We were having fun. Not one sprinter of note came out of the experience but we were all very fit and kept out of trouble by these activities. Cycling Many of us took up cycling at one point or another. We were inspired by Richard Forbes from number 50 who was the first Jamaican to represent the country internationally in that sport. I recall him whizzing by one Sunday evening with a motor rigged to the back wheel. I knew then he would be retiring from the sport sooner than later. I have never seen a bicycle move that fast with no effort on the part of the rider. He actually gave his bicycle to Godfrey Chung when he retired. Those of us who didn’t own bicycles like Gary and Cornel Fong Yee either got parts and put them together or just borrowed. This cycling thing got us into more trouble than can be imagined as “Hunchie”, a Constable from the Harbour View Police Station, would be on our tails for riding without lights. We outsmarted him by using the bottoms of condensed milk tins that would reflect his headlights, giving us safe passage. We had physics working for us. We were growing smart. For our protection we decided to use the bottom of a cheese pan when we went crabbing on the Port Royal Road. So effective was our use of reflected light beam that it blinded a policeman in his private car and nearly drove him off the road. He pulled us over but could not locate the big searchlight that we were accused of having so he proceeded on his way after giving us a good cussing out. We took up our cheese pan lid and proceeded safely home. We were growing dangerous. We always enjoyed breezing out to Bull Bay or Port Royal and even to school. With the wind in our backs it was a pleasant cruise and we exceeded the boundaries of distance in this favourable wind without considering the return journey. As we pushed our bicycles back into the strong breeze we wondered why we couldn’t have a motor like Richie Forbes’. My little meeting with the back of a JOS bus in Bull Bay caused me serious dental fees with still more to come. It was the younger Henton who took news back to Riverside that I was last seen foaming from the mouth and bleeding from the ears when I was taken away in an ambulance from Harbour Head Gardens having suffered a nasty fall while we were racing on bicycles along the roadway in the Gardens (yes it was a garden). His opinion was that from the blow to my head he didn’t see how I could survive. It was a carefully worded message, plotted on Mario Forrester’s carport. The devil finds mischief indeed. The street seemed lined again for the arrival of the Emperor, or so I thought, as all the residents gathered on the sidewalk outside their homes expressing deep concern while awaiting confirmation of my demise. Some were already bawling. My mother was being very strong, apparently, hoping for the most favourable outcome to this seeming tragedy. Her optimism was rewarded when I turned the corner and rode up Riverside on Pan Head’s bicycle to the delight and cheers of all the residents. Young Courtney Nation had been dispatched to our Reel Avenue hang out when he ran into us walking up Sargasso and fell off his bicycle as if he had seen a ghost. Naturally, with the maintenance of surprise being a critical element of any military operation, Pan Head had to be detained until the operation was pulled off. The straight jab to my solar plexus was telegraphed by what I misread to be a rush from a loving mother to embrace a son she thought she had lost. I never knew a woman could deliver such a punch. Her bones were tremendously strong for a woman her age. I was to learn later that my mother was made of hardened steel, when at age 63 she visited me in England and we got together for a game of family cricket. Her grandnephew tried to run her out when she launched herself from 15 feet out, in her church dress to ground her bat. We had to hide her from the Windies. The accident described by young Henton would have been kinder to my body had it occurred. Cycling was definitely not one of my most rewarding activities. I just had to learn to fly. Hayden Smith from Atoll Avenue and Godfrey Chung from Donald Quarrie “Dorado” Drive and then 12 Riverside, went on to represent Jamaica internationally. These were serious trainers. Hayden even invested in a machine that allowed him to ride on the spot for hours, covering many miles at various speeds. As we gathered around in amazement to watch him train we decided there were too many injuries and scrapes with Hunchie and it was just not worth it if we couldn’t be like Hayden. So when Garfield “Junior” Roper bought a Japanese pick up we retired the bicycles that were used to transport speaker boxes to BFI gigs. We owe so much to that little pick up. It kept us out of serious trouble with the law. It was now the official transport as those who entered the working world like Junior and my sister Hyacinth would gather all the children and take them to the movies at Carib and Regal Cinemas and the State Theatres. The cycle had come full circle. It was Mrs Anglin who used to gather us all and take us to the PANTOMINE at the Ward Theatre every year. It was the advent of Microsoft Spell Check that brought on a eureka moment when in 1992 it defiantly insisted that the PANTOMINE that I was told we were going to all these years was in fact a Pantomime. It made a lot of sense, actually. Music House parties were a regular feature, especially during the summer. It was almost useless to invite many of us young boys to parties as it took the fun out of crashing. Junior “Jelly” Roberts was the top dancer. He knew the Three and Two Step and could twirl on the dance floor like Fred Astaire. Not something that came naturally to cadets who preferred to march. He had access to most parties. The rest of us were there for the food and drink. We spent many hours in the vicinity of the gate or the fence until we, unnoticed, ended up in the party. The hours wasted were just unacceptable so BFI was formed. First as a band, “Brute Force and Ignorance” was led by Eisenhower Chuck; the only one who knew music and played the bass guitar. He would teach us simple chords and call the chord change out loud as the song progressed. I can’t recall where we got the drum set but Michael Hewitt from the KC Cadets was our drummer. Simeon Stewart, another KC Cadet was on keyboards I believe; and my brother Knolly and I played acoustic guitars. I recall Paul Henton being on the melodica and that we also had a Congo Drum. We were not getting too many gigs and we weren’t being paid for any that we got so BFI quickly became a disco, run out of the Roper’s back room at 6 Riverside. Our African Studies Club, started by Hyacinth, and of which Eisenhower Chuck was my Vice President, was also run out of the Roper’s back yard. We got hold of a Swahili dictionary and phrase book, bought by the now-employed Hyacinth, and became versed in a few words and phrases. BFI got us into many parties to the extent that it took the fun out of crashing parties. BFI competed with rival disco, “Love Unlimited” from East Harbour View, operated by the Johnson and the Long boys. Of course in recent years Karen Smith-Roper’s New Year’s Eve party, which was the domain of BFI, got taken over by Love Unlimited as her good friend and my chorister, Carol Williams married into the Long family. We had a little more success here as Norman Ricky Johnson still carries the torch as DJ Norman and knows how to swing a party better than any I have seen. Norman Marsh came out as a radio DJ of note on JBC, though I really don’t know how, and Knolly is an oldies collector who spins regularly at clubs in Florida and hosts a radio show every Sunday night. Most successful of all though, is Paul “Noses” Henton, now Computer Paul, who generates computer rhythms from his home studio for Reggae artiste Yelle of Senegal and can be heard on the tracks of many modern reggae productions. I believe he even got a business award for exporting rhythms. From the mischief he used to plot that nearly gave my mother a heart attack I would not have known that he would have been the responsible father, husband and businessman he is now. Perhaps I should not be surprised though since most of my cadets made good of their lives as adults. This too must have kept us out of trouble. Conclusion Numerous top achievers have come out of Harbour View. That many of us have achieved what we have today, could only be considered a miracle. That miracle could very well have been Harbour View. Outside of being a new housing scheme it was an opportunity to move from wherever we came to a community of progress and progressive people. As wayward as many of us might have been as youngsters, there were teachers, policemen, civil servants, priests and a set of solid citizens to guide us and so we felt compelled to make them proud of us. Not to mention, we could not afford a complaint to reach our parents. Every teacher in the community had a strap or cane at hand. My mother seemed to have had a general license to go with it, so we had to play on her fear of heights by banishing her various weapons of corporal punishment to the roof of our house. It indeed takes a village to raise children. Harbour View was that village for many of my generation. As we celebrate Harbour View’s 50th year as a community which nurtured thousands of young people now drawing close to getting senior citizens discount at some supermarkets and their own queue in the banks (with chairs to boot). Would it not be nice to have a Homecoming Reunion at Compound? Love Unlimited and BFI might even have their moment of glory. I would gladly pay for one of the original linoleum tiles especially if it has any silt from the Flora floods. It could be a boon for souvenir and other Harbour View branded merchandise.
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My Story from LOT 711, Harbour View
Forty years seem to dissipate as I begin to reconstruct memories of my sojourn in this nurturing neighbourhood, this special community of Eastern St Andrew. What wonderful recollections as I think of my time spent living in Harbour View- (28 Martello Drive/10 Tuna Avenue) from early childhood until I was in fourth form at Excelsior High, circa 1974! And believe me, there are so many memories, it is difficult even deciding where to begin! Do I reminisce about long, lazy summer days frolicking in the bed of the lower Hope River despite my mom’s admonition not to, and having to endure the painful consequence of my disobedience? I can still recall one day venturing down to the river bed, my younger sister Georgia and my brother Charles, cousins Maurice and Rhema Spaulding in tow, to play with my friends. Unknown to me, my ‘no nonsense” mother had returned home earlier than anticipated and needless to say, in the face of our defiance, there was really no question of her spoiling her children by sparing the rod! As the eldest child, and ostensibly, the one in charge during her absence, I bore the brunt of mommy’s displeasure. Martello Drive did not provide enough shelter for me! Those same long lazy summer days gave rise to big “beigey” kites constructed by my uncles whom naturally had to be tied to the verandah posts and the smaller versions with accompanying tails and the attached razor blade to boot!! “Fudgie” was a constant on the roads! Or do I recall the time when the vocal group Desmond Dekker and the Aces performed at one of the many Independence Fairs held on the grounds of the Harbour View Primary school, where one of the Aces in their call-and-response Intensified Festival song, bearing down in my sister’s face, intoned “intensified!” His action scared her half to death and she took off from the front of that stage with lightening speed! Ram baba do, bam, bam, bam douie - end of concert for me! They hadn’t even performed “Keep a cool head”, “Ah it mek” or “Me Israelites!! Should I mention the countless sessions attended on both sides of the View…. And of “yute man” decked out in black French beret, black Arrow shirt and the Clarke’s bootie! Listen…. yu hear dat? Horace Andy’s “Skylarking”, Big Youth’s “ S 90 ”, The Stylistics’ slow steppers “Break Up To Make Up” / “Betcha By Golly Wow” and the funky stomping “Stone Out of My Mind” by the Chilites! What about the wicked, big “chune”, ram packed street dances at Independence “Ba ba Boom” time down at the shopping centre? Or should I dwell on the first time I sat behind the steering wheel of a car in motion (Cleveland Richards’) on Marine Terrace courtesy of one of his daughters- Marcia? Recently I saw the shell of one of those JOS buses and it immediately evoked memories of that number 2 bus route, with the bus crawling along Harbour Drive, plunging around Fort Nugent Drive (with Compound on the left) and on to the roundabout before snaking over the bride to Mars Drive and then chugging up Zenith Avenue, bolting along Southern Cross Drive with termination at Stella Road before its return route via Venus Avenue. I recall Piano lessons given at Mrs. Case on Windy Way and Alma Mock-Yen’s dance studio on Harbour Drive, honing my consumer skills at shops at the centre where “pretty paper’ was purchased at Times Store for the said kites and taste buds uplifted at the supermarket, “Purity”, and “Kent Pharmacy”. Never to be forgotten is the daily pilgrimage to Mr. Tai’s shop at number three Neptune Avenue for sweets such as Chimpee wao moi and Bustamante back bone and the youth club experience (Coral Way) spearheaded by the elder Groves brother and our white washing of curbs of the carriage way leading to Harbour View as part of the Labour Day activities. Of course in that same locale one has to remember Claudette who was confined to a wheel chair following an illness and the Coore family of 11 children, who along with the Quallos and the Elliotts ought to have been the largest single families in the community! Should I speak about the decision taken by a group of us to spend our Sunday mornings over an 8 week period to visit all the churches in the community? How can I forget the days of ‘running boat’ with friends and family during the summer holidays? Visits to the major beaches in the area: Harbour Head, Gunboat, Buccaneer and Caribbean Terrace. ,the bicycle rides thru the community as we had access, to a number of Hayden Smith’s cycles, thanks to the instrumentality of his sister Bernadene, and the trips to Aqua Avenue and the Jamaica Library Service bookmobile? How many of us on the East side remember the distinct, piercing staccato sound of the jack hammering at the Gypsum plant or the fog horns of ships in the harbour? How many of us as fourth graders at Harbour View Primary recall Paul “Pablo” Robinson’s unfortunate accident when he fell from two stories atop the school building where he had gone to retrieve a ball sent there while playing dandy shandy or was it baseball? Venturing “cross the river” not only were there visits to my friends’ homes, we visited Ocean Villa….every Friday to ‘eat a food”, there were also visits to the Harbour View Drive In theatre where on one particular evening, we witnessed a part of Jamaican history with the screening of “The Harder They Come’, of course “starring” the Honourable James “Jimmy Cliff ’ Chambers - Order of Merit (OM)! On another occasion I actually had the privilege of joining a group, watching the silent version of a movie on Michael Campbell’s house top on Mars Drive! These were simpler times indeed! So simple in fact that the highlight of a Sunday afternoon was being taken to the Palisadoes-later Norman Manley- International Airport to watch in awe as the planes took off and landed. And there was another added benefit to living so close to the airport. As a gateway community we literally had a front row seat as visiting dignitaries descended on the island; Queen Elizabeth 11, Princess Margaret, second, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and of course the piece de resistance: the visit of Emperor Haile Selassie1 of Ethiopia. Even now, forty five years later, memories of Haile Selassie’s April 1966 visit to Jamaica come flooding back. It is as clear as if it were only yesterday. Tension and expectancy had been building all day as a knot of expectant residents had gathered, six -deep, in the area of the round-a-bout hoping to get even a fleeting glimpse of the motorcade carrying the leader revered by Rastafarians as their deity. An air of frenzied excitement had built to a crescendo as the motorcade inched its way along the airport road and veered left at the round-a-bout as the Emperor’s entourage made its way into Kingston. I remember peering through the legs and around arms of the jostling adults who had massed along the highway for that very reason. As an eight year old I had never seen so many “Rasta man and woman” and never before had I inhaled so much marijuana smoke!!! More than anything though, I distinctly remember the sense of community we felt- those of us, the early residents of Harbour View who were virtual pioneers as the community coalesced and grew. The sense of community was so strong that when Thalia Ruddock, Anne Burrows and Janine (Watson) Burgher won Common Entrance Examination Government scholarships we felt a special pride and reveled in their success as they were family members, which in a real sense they were. Young Ms Burrows was also the island Spelling B champion in 1970. I remember the summer of July 1975 and how devastated we were when we learnt that Donovan King lost his life at Caribbean Terrace. The following year was better, as we were all elated when Donald Quarrie won the 200 meter Gold medal at the Montreal Olympic Games of 1976 and in 1977 when Habour View Football Club captured its first major league title. My connection and link to this community is still very strong, I visit regularly as I have an aunt who still resides there, in addition to which as an officer of the Ministry of Education, there is interface with Harbour View Primary and Donald Quarrie High schools. I have unfinished business there though, as in all my years there I have never visited the Martello Tower, I plan to rectify that omission soon!!!! Fifty years later, I can say with pride that I lived in a community in its truest form, the secret and success of which, resided unequivocally, unapologetically, unabashedly, indisputably, undeniably in the strong family bonds and the sense of shared values that linked us to this east Kingston enclave. The wonderful, enduring friendships I have forged, spanning more than four decades, the camaraderie, and the life lessons from parents of my friends and contemporaries- priceless! Such pleasant memories, indelibly etched!
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My Story from LOT 711, Harbour View
HARBOUR VIEW 50th ANNIVERSARY SERVICE
by: Professor Maureen Samms-Vaughan Monsignor Richards; Other Ministers of Religion serving the Harbour View Community; Member of Parliament, Mr. Joseph Hibbert; Councillor Oliver Clue, Mrs. Beryl Urquhart, Chair of the Harbour View Citizens Association; other distinguished guests in the congregation, past and present residents of Harbour View, well-wishers and children, I first wish to thank the organisers for the opportunity to celebrate with you by participating in this 50th Anniversary Service. My childhood and early adult years spent in Harbour View were years filled with many happy memories. Too few children have the experience today of growing up in a real community. I did!! A community is typically defined as a group of people forming a smaller social unit within a larger one, who share common interests, such as work, identity and location. Harbour View was this and more. I propose to share with those of you today who are recent residents of Harbour View what it was like growing up here in the 60's and 70's and jog the memories of those seated amongst us with whom I grew up. I moved with my family to Harbour View in 1961, when I was just a few years old, and I don't propose to give you any more information on my age. Our family, typical of many Harbour View families, included my parents and my siblings, my three older brothers and my older sister. We moved to Lot 981 on Windy Way; there were no street numbers yet. For us as children, moving into a new home was exciting, but for our parents this move meant much more. Like most adults moving into this new community, our parents were first time home owners, many of whom were mid-level civil servants or at similar occupational levels, persons who had toiled hard to make a living. They spoke of the pride of having taken the big step to own their own home. This big step, however, had many smaller preceding steps. Our parents would have heard about this new housing scheme being developed by West Indies Home Contractors in 1959, looked at the floor plans published in the Gleaner, viewed the model house established on Mars Drive in 1960 and found it to their liking, reviewed their finances and ensured they could make the down-payment and visited the office with the map of lots on Harbour Street from where they would have chosen their lot from the over 1,834 2 and 3 bedroom houses built. The older children, like my sister would have had some participation in this process too. In particular, they would have looked over the shoulders of their parents as they perused the floor plan in the Gleaner, secretly and sometimes loudly identifying their rooms. At Harbour Street our parents were advised that the construction of Harbour View was unique in many ways. It was the first time that a project of this magnitude was being undertaken by West Indies Home Contractors. Mona Heights, the largest previous project had only 720 houses built. The method of construction, with pre-cast concrete walls and pre-fabricated walls, roofs and partitions was another first in Jamaica. This meant that houses could be constructed at an amazing rate of 6 homes a day. So important was this development that it was featured in the Miami News newspaper of July 17, 1960. The price of the houses was quoted in this article as US $6,000.00. How many of you would wish you could purchase a house for that amount now!! When the first settlers moved in, there were roads, but no fences or trees. There were open lots also, but little else. Through the eyes of children, we watched and participated in the developments of the different aspects of the community, with little knowledge of the long term impact of these early days. With little knowledge that today we would be here celebrating the 50th anniversary of a community with awesome achievements. We watched the churches, the schools, the post office, the shopping and business centres and sporting and leisure hubs develop. With each new development the excitement of the children grew and the pride of the homeowners, our parents swelled. They had made the right choice for their investment. But there was an even bigger picture than the excitement of the children and the pride of the parents. Together we were establishing a new community!! How did we as children spend those early days? The School Week Like most other children, school dominated most of our week. The Harbour View Primary School and St. Benedicts Primary School were the main primary schools attended by children. The Harbour View Primary School also served as the community centre, as this was where most community meetings were held. A few children ventured out of the community but mainly to nearby primary or preparatory schools, including St George's Girl School, Holy Rosary and Vaz Preparatory schools. There was no secondary school in this early community. We all travelled out for high school, mainly to nearby schools: Excelsior, Camperdown, Kingston College, St. George' s College, Alpha Girls School, Wolmer's Girls and Boys, St. Hugh's High School. Unlike many children who get picked up from school by their parents these days, we took the bus home. Regardless of the High Schools we went to, we all ended up on the buses to Harbour View in the evenings: the 2A which stopped on one side of Harbour View, the 2 which went "over the river" and the 24 which went to the airport through Harbour View. The X21 to Bull Bay was also an option for us sometimes, but it really wasn't our bus like the others, it had other people on it!!!. We gathered at various points to get on these buses, downtown Kingston, the intersection of South Camp Road and East Queen Street or the beginning of Mountain View Avenue. It didn't matter where we got on, once these buses passed Rockfort, everyone on the bus was Harbour-View bound. We felt we owned these buses and the bus drivers humored us. They looked out for us, waited for us at bus stops to make sure we weren't late for school or late getting home. They scolded us if we misbehaved on the buses. They were like our parents, except a little more lenient and we loved and respected them. We sometimes walked to the Rockfort bus-stop, sometimes because we had unwisely spent our base-fare, or because we knew we could save the three pence for the 2 fare stage from Rockfort to Harbour View. There, we simply waited on the first car we knew was Harbour View bound. Residents who owned cars would slow down as they passed the Rockfort bus stop to look out for children from Harbour View. When they stopped we piled into the cars and were safely taken to our community. One of the few activities we were allowed during the week was to visit the Jamaica Library Service Bus, which parked on the open lot by Aqua Avenue. We took our books and exchanged them, each week getting new ones, until the Library Service opened a branch in the Shopping Centre some years later. Entertainment After the school week, our weekends were meant for fun and play and going to church. We had simple pleasures then. There was no designated play area within the community and in the early days there was no television!!!. No computer games or video games indoors for us. Going for walks in the community particularly on Sunday afternoons was commonplace. But for these walks on Sunday you had to be properly dressed or "tidied". On some days we walked to the Martello Tower. We etched our names on the walls and climbed up the dark, scary, winding stairs till we got to the top where we had a commanding view of our community and the sea. We played mainly on the street; Cricket and football were set up on almost every street with three stones or a garbage can cover marking the wicket and two stones outlining the goal posts for football. Basketball was not common then, so there were no hoops. Baseball was also played with two bases on one side of the road and two on the other. Drivers would slow down and wait as we removed the wickets and as we moved out of the road for each approaching car and would manoeuvre their wheels between the stones. I must remind you that there were fewer cars then and they didn't drive as fast as the cars of today. We also played in homes; and I mean everybody's homes. We played in one home till we were tired of that one, then we all moved to another. The children of each street belonged to everyone; the community really cared for its children. Some of this care was not welcomed by us all the time. For example, if I got off the bus at Neptune Avenue instead of my usual stop at the Shopping Centre, by the time I got home, my mother would know of this and enquire where I had been for the last hour. In the evenings, we played games on the newly built carports, which were not part of the original homes, and did our homework on weekdays. When television arrived in the mid 1960s, the first homes on each street that had television became mini movie theatres. Children and adults crowded into tiny living rooms watching everything that was shown on the single television station, whether it truly interested them or not. We knew the sign on and sign off signals, indicating when the JBC began and ceased its broadcasts for the day. On school holidays, we looked forward to the Community Fair, held at the Harbour View Primary School. There was always the merry-go-round, the ferris wheel, donkey rides and stalls for games and buying goodies. No child missed the fair, where Miss Harbour View was sometimes chosen. Then there were the street dances, usually held at the shopping centre at the time of the Independence Celebrations and at Christmas. The shopping centre also provided another form of entertainment for children, but was more important for our parents. This was where political rallies were held. Everyone went to the rallies of both political parties. It must have been difficult to determine then what the outcome of any vote would have been. In those early days, for entertainment some enterprising residents held film shows on their carports. Many a Western was watched on Dorado Drive on Friday nights, on a screen that was initially just a white sheet. Then in about 1963, the Harbour View Drive Inn Theatre opened, the first of its kind in Jamaica. We felt it belonged to us. Many boys watched the movies from the roofs of their homes or sitting on top of the walls of the Drive-Inn. How they heard what was said, we never understood. The seating gallery at the drive-inn was usually dominated by Harbour View young persons, as most other persons stayed in their cars. The Harbour Head Park, now just a shadow of its original beauty, was a popular site for spending Saturdays or public holidays with your parents when you were younger, or for walking to on Saturday or Sunday evenings with a group of friends when you were older. We swam in the crystal clear water, occasionally getting stung by jelly fish or getting sea egg spikes in our feet; we spread blankets in the grass and had picnic lunches or climbed poinciana trees. Sometimes, we ventured further out, driving with our parents when we were younger and walking on the Palisadoes Strip with our friends or taking the bus when we were older to Gunboat Beach, a popular and well maintained beach of the day. We sometimes drove or took the bus to the Rockfort Mineral Bath, especially on Saturdays. We would often see the prisoners working by the Mineral Bath. When we were older, the high point of the weekends was watching football matches at what we called "Compound" then, a dust bowl, now known to you as the Harbour View Football Stadium. As children, we had no idea that grass could ever grow there. As teenagers, there were always house parties held on the carport or in a living room cleared of furniture. Parties started earlier in those days and for some of us, by 10:30 or 11:00 p.m., the cars of parents who drove would line the streets, while teenagers inside anxiously looked at their watches. Those who had to leave early would have the sympathy of those who could stay until midnight or 1 a.m. Attending church was an important part of our lives. Few children were not affiliated with one of the churches serving the Harbour View community. Some churches, like the Harbour View Gospel Chapel, had its beginnings in the living room of one of the founding members. Other early churches included the Church of God, the SDA church, the Moravian Church, St. Marks Methodist and St. Benedicts Catholic Church. For the young men of Harbour View, who wished to visit young ladies outside of their community, transportation back home had to be organised or you had to stay overnight with a friend or relative outside of Harbour View. On the other hand, for those young men wishing to woo young ladies in Harbour View, this meant knowing the exact timetable of the Jolly Joseph bus, in particular, what was commonly known as the "last bus." Business Development: Businesses grew in homes. As children, we could take piano lessons at Mrs. Case, Mrs. Shaw and a host of others, violin lessons, dance lessons at Ms. Mock Yen and many others, without leaving Harbour View. We could have our hair done at Fay's Beauty Parlour. Most adolescent girls and adult females in Harbour View would have had their hair straightened at Mrs. Holder or at Fay’s, if not at their homes in the early days or “creamed” (relaxed) in later years. Our major grocery shopping was initially done in down town Kingston or at the small supermarket at Rockfort. But there was always an enterprising resident who kept a small shop at their home. Mr. Tai's shop was closest to where we lived. There was always a crowd at Mr. Tai's little grilled window through which he collected money and passed goods to customers, especially on a Saturday night. We had no idea when Mr. Tai or his family slept; any hour of day or night when we needed some item, we could knock at the closed shop window and receive service. Even when the Harbour View Shopping Centre opened its doors offering major competition, Mr. Tai's shop stayed open. They couldn't offer the type of customer service that he did!! But the Shopping Centre offered new experiences for children. There was Kent Pharmacy, where we viewed toys when we were younger and cosmetics when we were older. On Sundays, if we saved all week, we could buy a sundae or banana split and sit at the chairs and tables on the patio to the side. The bakery and pastry shop next door was visited more frequently as the sugar buns and pastries were more in keeping with what we could regularly afford. Alternatively, especially on a Friday or Saturday night, we bought fried chicken from Mr. T’s Wings and Things; we always secretly wondered and joked amongst ourselves as to what the “things” were. Then there was Times Store, with books and school supplies at the front, but toys at the back. There was always a dress shop as well; where we would window shop. At the start of every school term, the boys in the community had their regular trips to the Shopping Centre’s barber shop. Our parents were much more interested in the other facilities there: the meat shop, the bank and for the men, the bar. Joys and Sorrows: Over the years, we had many joys. Too numerous to mention individually, our joys will be highlighted here by two that resulted in international recognition. First, Donald Quarrie, one of our residents, after many earlier achievements on the athletic track, won the 200m gold in the 1976 Olympics. We were exceptionally proud. Later, Dorado Drive was renamed Donald Quarrie Drive in his honour. Second, is the football powerhouse known as the Harbour View Football Team, which though almost always present in Harbour View in some form, was not officially established until 1974. We also had our sorrows; in our first few years, as a community, Harbour View residents experienced the deaths of a number of its children. On Harbour Drive, a young boy was killed from a falling rock, a little girl was murdered and three boys 16-17 years old, one of them my brother, died in March 1962 in the Hope River Bed, where they found an unexploded bomb. Soldiers had previously used the Harbour View site as a firing range. This made headlines in the papers and an investigation was done, but this concluded the boys' death as being by misadventure. In this community, we shared our joys and our grief together. The outpouring of support and sympathy to families who had lost loved ones by community members was immeasurable. Two other distressing early events for the Harbour View Community were heralded by heavy rains. In one event, homes on Riverside Drive were flooded as the heavy rains led to the overflow of the Hope River. Ropes were tied by residents to lead others from the water logged houses to safety. Everyone helped in the clean up effort. In the late 1960’s heavy rains caused a mud slide from the Jamaica Flour Mills property on to the road, completely blocking the only access to our homes. Scores of people got off buses and walked home together in the pouring rain. Residents on the side closest to Harbour View helped to transport walkers home. Many residents stayed with relatives that night, until the road was opened the subsequent day. This subsequently led to the terracing of the sloping land by the Jamaica Flour Mills. Harbour View, A Unique Community What made Harbour View the unique community it is today? How many communities can boast a web-site keeping residents from all over the world together. How many can boast annual reunions held in Florida? In looking back, Harbour View was physically isolated from other communities, bordered by the sea on one side and the hills, and separated from Kingston by a strip of road that had no other communities. But this alone could not have created the vibrant community of Harbour View. What really created the community that current residents enjoy was the spirit and will of the people, the first settlers. They were determined to create a community for their families and children that would see to their children's development and be a safe and secure place for their retirement. They had worked hard to achieve owning their home, but they also wanted a community, rather than 1800 individual homes. A thriving Citizens Association emerged and supported and strengthened the development of this new community. Much has changed in the world, in Jamaica and by extension in Harbour View, since the 1960s and 70s. But a community that wants the best for its citizens can never be stopped. I note the intention to pursue the implementation of the Action Plan for Harbour View. Fifty years ago, the first residents had a vision which they pursued. Harbour View citizens must continue to be visionaries. What is again unique bout Harbour View is that we don't have to look outside ourselves for examples as to how to achieve a vision. In this small community, a few young men kicking football in the evenings on a dust bowl has become a highly regarded professional football club, indeed the first football club in the country to be incorporated as a limited liability entity and the first to have its own world-class Stadium. Those young men had a vision and pursued it against all odds. It could not have been easy, but they succeeded. I started this presentation with one definition of community, but I end with one that better describes the community of Harbour View that I grew up in. This is an ecological definition, and describes a community as a group of interdependent organisms inhabiting the same region and interacting with each other to the benefit of all. This is the community that I grew up in!!
May Harbour View continue to pursue this vision!!
With thanks to my mother, Lena Samms, arguably at almost 93 years, the oldest
living original resident of Harbour View; my sister Dorrett and my bother
Lascelle, who reviewed the written piece and my friends who spoke with me after
the original delivery at the 50th
Anniversary Service; all of whom reminded me of additional experiences, which I
subsequently included. |
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