True Story: Keith "Slick Bonadie - A Master Teacher

I cannot remember how old I was, however, I had already dropped out of secondary school. School had become a serious uphill struggle for me, ever since my mother died. I was seven years old when Mother passed away and my whole world turned upside down. I barely manage to scrape through primary school; and Secondary school was another struggle. I have been trying to drop out of school about a year before, but with my sister Clare’s persistence; I made it to form four.

After I dropped out of school, I did not do much. I looked for activities to keep myself occupied, in order to pass the day. Most of the guys in the neighborhood were stevedore, they work on the ships that docked in the wharf. Their responsibility was to loading and unloading the content of the ships. They worked once or twice a week and the pay was very good. Most of the guys worked with different agent and therefore worked different boats on different days. When they were not working, they will gather at the Victoria Park in the morning about 6:00 AM to play soccer until about 9:00 – 10:00 AM.

By this time, I have resigned myself to the fact that, I am just not good at soccer, and I will never be a good soccer player; I was happy being a spectator, which was quite easy. All that was required was: I attend the games, I support my friends, applaud good plays and participate in some nonsensical opinioned argument every now and then. At that time, I was tagging along with Desmond Mc Cauley, who was like my hero and big brother. I will sit in the grandstand, with the small group of onlookers who had assembled at the park to pass the time and the other players who were waiting patiently to replace the team that must leave the field in defeat.

Keith “Slick” Bonadie was among the many national footballers who assemble at Victoria Park to practice, in an effort to continue to master a craft; a craft, in my opinion he had already mastered and as his nickname suggest he was Slick. The name “Slick” was Keith’s soccer identification and represented the high quality of competitive skills he possessed on the field of play; he was much better at his craft than anyone that played the game. At this stage of Slick’s Soccer career, he was the tactical soccer master and he played for the most popular Tafar-I. Tafar-I a team that had its base in Shingle City, the large Victorian house that for many years housed “Daddy’s” Shop and later Benita’s shop. 

At that time, Tafar-I was made up of young men, most of whom were in their late teens or just out of their teens; all of whom had converted to Rastafarian practice of lock rearing and ganja smoking, hence the name. Tafar-I along with Super Stars the team from Paul’s Avenue; were literally responsible for revolutionizing soccer in St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

I could remember it like it was yesterday, I was sitting in the grand stand, at Victoria park one morning; watching the guys play, as was my custom. On several occasion when they were short a player, they requested that I fill in, but I knew what that meant, I will be on the field of play and will be ignored. So I always declined to fill in, on such a situation.

One day and for some reason Desmond “Chow Ming” Mc Cauley, decided that he did not want to continue to play anymore, and left the field. Slick called me to fill in for Desmond; I did not want to be bothered, or to suffer the indignity of being on a field of play and not being a part of the game. So I waved off the master baller, indicating to him I don’t want to play. 

I don’t know why, but slick was adamant that I come and play, I did not know why it meant so much to slick that I take the field of play, that he left the field came into the stand and request that I join his team. At Slick’s prompting I went onto the field. Slick passed the ball to me and I went into my old mode of playing, trying to get to the goal, as a result I lose the ball in the process. Slick came up to me he said Palmer, you are rushing the game. It was then he told me what he expected from me. He said, "Palmer, I want you to slow down the game, when I pass the ball to you, first control the ball, look up, look for me then pass the ball back to me."

Slick instruction was clear and simple, he will tell me where on the field he wanted me and I followed his instruction. Then slick got the ball, he pass the ball to me, I controlled the ball, I looked up I saw Slick moving into a position where I can see him, he was clear of opposing players, without rushing it, I pass the ball back to slick, Slick in turn did the same thing, he controlled the ball, and he passed the ball to a third person who did the same thing and then I got the ball, again, I control the ball, I looked up and I pass the ball to slick, before I knew it, Slick had pulled together a series of seven plus passes, we were in the goal area of our opponent and I can hear the guys in the grand stand shouting Knock-ments, knowkment. When the ball went out of touch Slick come to me and say, that is how simple the game is, that is what we call knockment. I felt good, for the first time, I was actually involved in a game of soccer that meant something.

That felt good, for the first time I felt some level of control, with Slick’s help, I actually play some productive soccer. At the end of the game, Slick called me and say Palmer come back tomorrow, I want you on my side (team) tomorrow, I went back the next day and I was on slick’s side once again. Before the game started, Keith reminded me, not to rush the ball and to find the rhythm. form the day before, I understood what the rhythm was, because I felt the rhythm, of the game; it was like a dance. control, look up, see your team mate and pass the ball. Then he reminded me to first control the ball, look up, look for me, take your time and pass the ball to me he said. In those days I was into Kung fu movies and in my head, the park was the monastery, slick was the Shaolin Master, and I was the awkward pupil who he took under his wings to teach Shaolin Kung fu.

Slick was always there to real me back in, when I went back to my old uncontrollable style of playing. He will do so by cooly saying "Palmer don’t lose the rhythm remember knowkments." And I will get back into the simple mood of play, control, look up, find Slick and pass the ball to him. This went on for a few weeks well. I could feel my confidence growing, I became more comfortable on the soccer field and that was because Slick was always there to guide me and to correct any mistake I made. Keith Slick corrected my mistakes without making me feel like some idiot.

Every morning I wake up looking forward to going to Victoria Park, to play soccer, this continue for the greater part of a year, my soccer game had developed to the point where, the style of soccer became second nature for me, at this stage Slick was not talking as much, he allowed me to play my game. Slick had taught me about finding the rhythm of the game, the importance of controlling the ball, ensuring I know where everyone was on the field, and the greatest element in the sport was to share the ball with your teammates. He also told me that Jibbing the ball had its place, and should be used when your team mates are not in a position for you to pass the ball to; then you only jibble the ball to get a better position where you can incorporate your teammate in the game.

I was most contented in playing soccer with the guys before a small group of people, finally I have fitted into something. I fit in because I was able to contribute to the task at hand. Here I was actually involved in the game, and then, I no longer was required to pass the ball to slick. With Slick’s teaching and guidance, I developed to the stage where I learn to find the best position on the field, to be included in the game, even without Slick’s immediate direction and I had also learned to find and pass the ball to the person in the best position to advance the game. I came a long way and I was thankful. I never compared myself with any of the other players because I was the least of the players.

And then, one morning after we had played, Slick came to me and he say Palmer you are ready, I said to myself: "ready for what," I was lost so I asked Mr. Bonadie what do you mean I am ready. I was at a lost as to what he meant by that statement. it was then, Slick, with a straight face (Serious face), looked at me and said: "you are ready to play real and competitive soccer." I looked at Slick and I mockingly smiled at him like to say "Yeah Right". Then he said, we have a spot for you on Tafar I, if you want it. I was still smiling mockingly at Slick, I did not take Keith Slick serious. I knew my game had vastly improved, but I cannot be that good to get a place on one of the nation’s best soccer team.

Slick further said I am asking you before any other team asked you to play for them. When he said that, I said to my self: "this man is serious." It was then I realized that Slick was really serious, I was totally freaked out; could you imagine me wearing a Tafar-I T-shirt, even if I was sitting on the bench. That would have been the coolest thing ever, just to be a part.

However; I still did not believe it, I said to Slick that is a big responsibility, I further said you may think I am ready to play for Tafar-I, but I am not ready to for that level of soccer. I knew there were a certain level of mental perpetration that is required to play at that level and I just was not prepared for that and to be honest I was more than contented with playing in the morning session and holding my own. Slick then said to me: "remember, if you change your mind you have a place with us." those words spoken by slick on that morning meant the world to me, and change my state of thinking.

Slick may not have known what his intervention into my life did for me. I had resigned to the fact that I was not a good football player and would have never been. But when Keith “Slick” Bonadie, decided to take the time to teach me the game of soccer and single-handedly (on his own) transformed my game from a game from the worst player ever to a young man with a skill level to have been offered a spot in a team of the Caliber of Tafar-I.

It was then I realized that there is nothing that I cannot do, as long as I get someone who has an interest in teaching me, I can accomplish anything I set my mind to. Slick actually created a Frankenstein monster called Allan H. F. Palmer. Now it was time to tackle the biggest monster to date. A monster that have caused me many embarrassment, A monster that have caused me many heart aches. This Monster was my secondary education. I began to asked around about the teachers in the evening classes program.

I heard about Heather Heckbourn now Dr. Heather Williams. I learn of her love for teaching. I think Dr. Williams was born to teach people like me. Dr. Heather Williams made learning a walk in the park. I was so confident walking into the Human and Social Biology exam room; I knew there were no question on that syllabus, they could asked that I could not answer. That was how good teacher Heather is and how prepared I was.

I also heard of Mrs. Joseph; I never knew her first name, however she is the wife of Calypsion Alexis Joseph's. Her love for teaching especially English Language was tremendous; Mrs. Joseph built my confidence in a subject that I previously did poorly in. There was a few other tutors, I heard about; however these two were the cream of the crop. As a result, I enrolled in the Ministry of education evening classes program and I began to excel in the academics. like soccer, the same academics that kicked my ass, I became the master of. I passed every subject I sat in one sitting.

Yahweh used Keith "Slick" Bonadie to teach me that there is nothing I cannot do. That mentality has been my watch word up to this day. When I was writing this true Story, I contacted my friend Mikey Brown to find out if he sees Slick in New York City, and how he was doing. It was then Browne Mikey Errol told me, I guess you did not hear, but slick passed away about two years ago. Writing this story was a difficult one. Because a man who created the Monster that is Allan Palmer, never got the opportunity know, how much he impacted my life and how much I appreciated what he did for me. May Mr. Keith “Slick” Bonadie soul rest in the arms of Jesus’ and may it rest in peace.

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My brother, My Sister, My mother and my father

I have no brother but the truth, for the truth stands alone.
The truth has no friend, no acquaintance and knows no controversy;
it cannot be, tarnished, replaced, and neither can it be discredited.
The truth is what it is: it is simply the truth.
It is the truth that convicts the guilty and acquits the innocent;
It is the truth that shames kings, cause the humble to rejoice
And lends clarity to the confusion of life’s mysteries.
The truth stands alone and tall among cheap imitation of its self: lies.
The truth points the earnest seeker to freedom and abundant life,
Although the truth is hated it is of the most value,
Even though it is rejected, the truth cannot be abandon,
The truth is a light that illuminates the darkness and unveil mysteries.
The truth is my brother.

I have no sister but Justice, for justice is blinded by her lofty ideals, and is consumed by her never ending task;
She does not see as men does, but she is guided by her calling.
She stands ignorant to the divisions and prejudice that society holds dear,
Justice concerns not herself with right or wrong, wins and lost,
But only if the act was justified within the context in which she adjudicates.
She knows no fear, has no sympathy, experience no love, harbours no hate and experiences no lost,
She has no relations or similarity to the system, that fraudulently bears her name.
She has perfected and with skill practice the art of dispensing awards: consequence.
She awards righteousness with rewards and gives punishments for transgressions.
Karma is her only tool; Karma is perfect in vigilance nothing escapes her view,
Or break hold of her grasp; Karma exist only to ensure that Justice is done.
For justice will and must be done.

True story - Jackie Baisden: more than special

It is said that you may never remember exactly what a person did or what they said but you will never forget how they make you feel. This is the case with Jackie Baisden.  Jackie Baisden was about 8 years my senior and a student of the prestigious "Girls High School." Even though she was just a young girl; Jackie Baisden was one of the most caring people I have had the pleasure of knowing as a child.

Jackie was the Grand Daughter of Mr. and Mrs Baisden who resides at Rose Place also commonly known as: Bottom Town. The couple was very serious people and protectively kept watch over their grandchildren; three of whom live with them. The Baisden were very contented and proud parents. They cared for and had the pleasure of seeing all of their children working in a professional capacity in St. Vincent and the Grenadines and within the Diaspora. The senior Baisden owned their home, which sat on a large piece of land that bordered the beach on the southern Eastern side of their property, on which they operated a small farm. They reared ducks, chicken, goats and sheep. They grow a variety of food crops on the land on which their home sat.  

The Baisden's also had several fruit three on their property. Among the fruit trees they had a very large Paul-Over Mango tree that sat on the south-eastern side of their property. This tree sat on boundary line of that property and half of that tree hanged over the Baisden's property and the other half hang over the big gutter that separated the Baisden's property from the public beach; the bloomage of that Mango tree was so big that a portion of the tree extended beyond the gutter and hanged over the beach. For the kids in the neighborhood, mango season was a delight but for the Baisden's, Margo Season was a disaster. Very frequently, the children will throw stones at the tree to try and knock mangoes from the branches; as a result, quite a few of the stones fell onto the roof of the Baisden's family home, there were many instant when those stone, will miss there intended target all together and cause damage to the Baisden's property. 

The Baisden had suffered many broken window, which only contributed to the added expense of their budget. When this happened, everyone will run away from the scene.  The culprit did not want to be discovered and none of the other children, who were also pelting stones at the Mangoes, wanted to be blamed for causing the damage, or to be forced by our parents to tell who was responsible for the said damage.

Jackie was one of the three grandchildren that lived with the Baisden's; Damion Baisden and Rodman Baisden AKA Roddy AKA Bruce Lee were both brothers and were the other two of the Baisden's grandchildren that resided with the Senior Baisden. Jackie was a beautiful young girl, but more than her beauty, she was the most caring person, I have ever met. Jackie Baisden was everyone’s friend. 

At this stage of my  life, I was struggling, and desperately trying to come to term with our mother’s death. Jackie’s intervention in my life was a sign that God will never leave you or forsake you. Jackie will even come to our home, especially on Sunday afternoon, and as well as when school was closed for vacation, to get permission to have me go to the nearby beach with their family.  Although Jackie was just a teenager and hang with the older girls; she always found time to spend with the neighborhood kid. She helped with school homework and any problem we may encountered, doing that was one of her delights. Even the children who did not need help will find Jackie Baisden for help; those who did not need help; fabricated some academic deficiency just to get her attention. That was so because Jackie was such a wonderful, unselfish and caring human being.

Jackie’s life back then was not perfect, because she to had lost her parents through migration; but she had the hopes of being reunited with them as soon as they had put the necessary things in place. She must have missed her parents tremendously, but she never allowed her personal problem to affect her attitude. Hence the reason, once she graduated from the Girls High School and found employment as a teacher, teaching at the Anglican Primary School, most of the neighborhood children, would be ready to walk to school with Jackie, each morning. It was Jackie the teacher and a crowd of children walking to school. but once on the school compound Jackie then became Miss Baisden.

Like many other, I was convinced that I was Jackie favorite little friend. All I wanted to do was to grow up and get married to Jackie Baisden. I can remember vividly that once, I got into an argument with one of my other friend over Jackie and who was her favorite. How dear this child had the audacity, to have thought that he was Jackie’s favorite.  It was bad enough that he entertained such though but to actually publicly declare such was begging for trouble.

I could remember it like Yesterday, a few of us younger children, were sitting on the big rock on Zombie Rock, having swam there, when one of my best friend at the time made the declaration of being Jackie’s favorite. This led to a big argument between both of us; an argument that got childishly personal. In order to get me to abandon my claim of having Jackie’s superior affection, he said: because Palmer is your father and you all have a shop you think you is Jackie’s favorite. These words were serious words, had it been another person, those words may have met the standard or the equivalent of being fighting words.

Those were serious words; However I was not going to give up my claim to the most beautiful, kindest and at the time my favorite person so easily. I responded, because you think your mother “day” (is living in) America and she does send barrel and thing for “all yo” (your family) you are Jackie’s favorite.

This argument was so serious that we thought it was fitting to take the matter to Jackie so she can declare which of us were her favorite, but instead, that argument led to a falling out between my friend and I. After a week or two or so, we be became friends again, however, our friendship was never the same; even after so many years, myself and that person are still friend but we are not as close to each other as we are with the other children we grow up with.

Sometime later, Jackie Left the neighborhood and went to live on her own. It was always a big event for me; whenever, I was told that Jackie was visiting. I will ensure I am in place to see her. Damian Jackie's cousin who was around the same age as I was, with whom I became very good friends, will often tell me that Jackie was visiting, in order to get me to come by their home, to play with him. Mr. Baisden did not want his grandchildren running around outside and he did not take to lightly of selected children coming into his home, because of the damage they cause to his property stoning mangoes from the Paul-Over Mango tree, damages which he had to restore himself with no compensation from their parent. 

After which Jackie left St. Vincent and the Grenadines to join her parent overseas. I can remember how sad I  became when I was told; Jackie was going overseas. I often though of Jackie Baisden, I also honestly hope to see her again and one day marry to her. But I have never seen her again. One thing that has not changed is the beautiful memories of the wonderful young girl that touched my life: Jackie Baisden.

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True story - Michael Webb - More than a brother

The family relationship the Palmer’s family developed the Culzac family of Rose Place (Bottom Town) and the Young family of Questelles; was the same type of a relationship the Webb family of Lower Middle Street, in Kingstown, and the Palmer’s family had developed. This relationship developed into an unbreakable bound, to the point where people mix up who we were.

I am often called Young and Culzac, and some people, not knowing my name, called me Mallo brother; thinking that Malcolm and Michael Webb are my brothers. I do not know how the Palmer's and the Webb’s developed such a close relationship; however, I knew that the husbands had some unique things in common. Both James Webb and My father Hamilton Palmer were small business men. Both men operated shop in Kingstown; they were also both members of the Grand United Order of Odd Fellows.

These qualities were not unique, for most of the Business men in the era were Lodge Men. But there were something else in my opinion that brought these two families together, which was primarily responsible for the development of a mutual love and respect that developed between the children of these two couples that is still alive many years after their parents passed on to the great beyond. A bond that sees my sister Chriscita and Vendy Webb still spending hours on the phone in New York City, speaking only God and them know what. A bound that see Mikey and Mallo had with my brother Albert and Val and a bond that still exist today with my sisters. Both the Webb Brother still go to the assistance of my sister Clare upon request, or even going by to see if she wants a ride to church etc.

The thing that was responsible for fostering the unbreakable bound between the two families that still exist today, was a decision that was taken by the matriarchs of the two families: Elaine Webb or sister Webb was what all of the Palmer's childrens call her and Verina Palmer. I do not know, what moved the women to make the decision they made and where they get the strength to take the steps they took, but it was a bold move by both women in that era

I don’t know when and who acted first or if they were friends when they acted. However, both women became converted to Christianity, but not just any Christian, they became Seventh Day Adventist Christian. For the wives of two active member of the Grand United Order of Odd Fellows, this was a travesty. The decision of their wives angered both James and Hamilton and they did all in their power, from gentle persuasion to shouting to have their wives abandon their little game; but they did not. However after many years My father Hamilton quietly give up the Lodge and James Webb later became a Seventh Day Adventist; James Webb even became an elected official administering the affairs of the church.    

Of all the people I knew, Sister Webb was one of the few person my father handled with kitten gloves, He was always genuinely delighted to see Sister Webb, who will often pass by on her way to and from her business in that area. When she pass by she will always say hello to My Father. He never invited Mrs Webb into his shop, in the same way, in later days, my my mother was not allowed in the shop. This was so because my father believed, a lady must never be seen in a liquor (Rum) shop. However he will always asked Mrs. Webb, you are not going up stairs to say hi to Mrs P; very often, she will, and then he will ensure that the ladies had refreshment that is befitting of ladies. 

likewise, James Webb was always happy to see my mother, especially on Saturday when we were walking home from church. He will insist that we come into his shop, (Mr. Webb never sold alcohol) which was located on Back Street where the Gibson Building Supplies is currently located sit down and take a rest on our journey home.  Mother will be given a malt to refresh herself as we rested, the children will be given a School Boy Beer, even against my mother's express wishes. Mr. Webb will quickly open the drinks and then he will say, I already open them don’t let them waste. Sister Webb and my mother spent hours together talking about many thing and in bible study.

Then my mother took ill and after a battle she succumbed to her illness, leaving seven children behind, Andrea and Myself were the youngest Andrea was 9 years old and I had just turn Seven years old. Sister Webb fit in the void the best that she could, with three young kids of her own. There was one thing I always knew is; I had a place to go to, a shoulder to cry on, a listening ears to hear my complaint and a wealth of Godly wisdom to source from in Mother Webb. 

At that age, I was not comfortable visiting The Webb’s home without my mother, so in the early stages after Mother’s death, I did not visit her home, however, I sat with Sister Webb and her family in church, it was a requirement; SIster Webb insisted on it. In my mid teens, I felt the need to visit Mrs. Webb, who by this time have become Mother Webb on the regular basis, I did not know why, but I will go to her house and I will sit in her presence for hours, she kept my interest, she will teach me the bible and she will speak to me, until it was night when I will leave. One night I return home from one of my visit to Mother Webb's home, my father was waiting for me, when I got in he asked where are you coming from at this hour; I said I went to visit Sister Webb. He look at me and said; at this hour, I confidently answered yes. He looked puzzled but did not continue the conversation, because he knew that I was not one to lie to him.

If Mother Webb was tired or if she was busy she always made time for me. She never told me when to leave; I left in my own time and on my own account. I literally hijack Mrs. Webb’s time. My father, James Webb and the Webb children did not expect her to go to such means to live up to the commitment she may have made to my mother. 

On hind sight this was the time I needed my mother most, and although I did not have a mother, Mrs Webb was a mother, although she was not my mother, she was the perfect substitute and she did her best to facilitate me. I could remember, on several occasions, while I was learning from Mrs. Webb, Michael came to his mother and I was there, disappointingly he turn around and leave without what he came for, because I monopolized his mother time.

So the next time I visit, Michael was present, I asked Mikey is mother Webb at home, he said no she went out and she is not back as yet. However This happened a few time. After my visits began to get scares Mother Webb sent for me, she wanted to know why, I was not coming by any more. I told her, I came by a few times and Mikey told me that you were not at home so I left. Mother Webb was very disappointed, she said, I am always home, I don’t go anywhere except to shop for the home,  I will have to have a talk with Mikey she said. 

Mikey is one of the most loyal man you will ever meet, he is the type of man, whom anyone can depends on, he is a simple guy with very little hang ups, one who values friendship, and is willing to help and share what he has with no hope of getting anything in return. I have never seen Mikey angry.

I get the impression that I was being a bother to the Webb Family, and I was but the matriach and the patriarch of the Webb family was to kind to tell me. So I stop going by the Webb’s house. On hindsight, My visit to the Webb was really too frequent and my stay was too long; but Mother Webb was too kind to even suggest it. She also knew that I was having a difficult time, having lost my mother as such a tender age and felt some obligation to her very good friend my mother.

Then surprisingly, I saw Mikey, we exchanged the regular greetings and then he said Allan, mother was asking for you, she was wondering why you were not coming by the house any more, we chat a little and then he said, you must go an look for mother. My visits restarted however, the visit was not as frequent and the amount of time I spent was not as long, because, my needs for a mother was not as great as it was in the initial stages.

However, Mikey’s never had a negative attitude to me, but his behavior to my visit and the monopolizing his mother's time change all together, then Mikey and I began to do things together, He will let me help him fix his bicycles, I began to do a lot of things with Mikey, who later became "brother Mike". Mikey became my big brother. Even when I became an adult, and as a police officer, I will pass by the Webb shop just to hang out and chat with Mikey, I will even park the police Vehicle at the Webbs residence and both Mikey will chat, and I will respond to what ever call from the webb's shop. when Mikey was fixing the family truck, when it was a problem Mikey could not figure out, he will consult my big brother Val and or Albert both of whom loved to play around with vehicle. Mikey always had some piece of took that one of my brothers often did not have and will borrow such. I will hop on to the truck with the other guys from Devil Street when Mikey was going to purchase cooking gas for the family business.

If he saw me on the street, I will hear the long shout Allan! he will pick me up and have me tag along with him. I still do not know what Mother Webb told Mikey that cause a complete change of attitude towards my visiting her, even to the point where me monopolizing his mother’s time was not a problem to the point where he (unofficially) adopted me as his little brother.

True Story - Sherol Lee-James: my first police protector

When I was an early teenager, a police by the name of Sgt. Lee led a party of men into our yard to conduct a search on my cousin Henry Palmer home. Sgt. Lee did not enter the premises, but the other men who were in the party and conducted the search did. Apparently Henry had a contact on the Geest Boat who will purchased large quantity of Marijuana from him. That person will take the marijuana to the UK where he sold it for maximum price. 

The Geest boat came to the islands once a week where they will land goods, making a Windward Island tour dropping off goods and filling their hatches with green gold: Windward Island Bananas. This time around Henry’s contact was not on the ship, He had the cannabis all package and ready but there were not one to buy the good. So he made an offer to some random sailor. The sailor told him yes he will buy the drugs and then he reported to the local Geest Management who in turn informed the police of the situation. 

It was this that brought Sgt. Lee to the yard he apparently visited as a child with his parents. This time he came not as a visiting family member, or as a friend but as a police officer in the line of a criminal investigation. I was standing in the yard and Detective lee started a totally unrelated conversation with me. Suspiciously, I participated in the conversation. He told me that I must try my best to stay out of trouble among other things that I cannot remember. Then one of the officers passed on the message that we found it. Meaning that they found the package of cannabis, Henry apparently offered to sell the sailor on the Geest boat. 

Sgt. Lee appeared to be a little disappointed, but he did his job without fear or favor. Several years later Mr. Sister Clare told me that Sgt. Lee had die. I did not know who Sgt. Lee was, it was then she reminded me of the police officers, I was speaking to in the yard when they arrested Henry for the marijuana. I remembered and I remembered the officer name was Sgt. Lee, but I did not know why I should care that he die. As far as I am concerned he was just a random officer. 

It was then she asked me: Don’t you know who Lee was. Then she told me that he was family and she reminded me of my visit to their home as a kid. The visits I vaguely remembered, I also remembered going to their home as a teen, but I did not know that the young or older boy from my childhood became a police officer an action man, because that was what Sgt. Lee was. My sister Clare also told me that Sgt. Lee was married but I never knew who he was married to. 

Many years later when I became a police officer, I came into contact with a lady by the name of Corporal Sherol Lee-James. A woman with a very loud voice, and she was not afraid to use it. She always asked me question about how I am getting along etc. If Cpl. Lee and later Sgt. Lee-James saw me doing something that I should not be doing, on police compound or anywhere for that fact, I will hear this voice shouting Palmer! You know better than that; You know you should not be doing that! And she will leave her office and come down and give me a small lecture. She often sought me out to come and speak to me. She encouraged me to come and consult her if there was anything I don’t know or anything I will like to know. Sherol Lee-James was a season detective and she have worked Uniformed she was a source of police knowledge. 

It was not until later in my policing career that I got to realized that Sherol Lee-James was the wife of my deceased cousin. It was then It all began to make sense, when she was always looking out for me; she had my back. That was why she Mrs. Lee-James was so protective of me and always try to guide me in the right direction. Sherol was not only beautiful but she was hard to disrespect, that was because she command and own the respect she required and deserved. As a police officer she was bold, unafraid and very professional. She was not afraid of criminal and she was not afraid of the police authority. She always tell me Palmer always be respectful of your senior, but don’t be afraid of them, no matter who it is. 

Some people even try to speak bad about Mrs. Lee-James to me, I never entertained any such conversation, because, she may have interrupted some of the foolishness I intended to do, just for the heck of it, but she never lead me wrong. When those people bring their negative conversations about Mrs. Lee-James to me, I will stop them dead in their tracks and often say to them; "As I will not entertain any such conversation about you, especially in your absence, I do not want to hear any bad things about Mrs. Lee-James. I like her, she have never led me wrong, and I am not having it. 

Sherol Lee-James saw me as family and as such she became my first Protector as a police officer. I love her just for being Sherol. Today I learn that Sherol Lee now James is the Inspector of Police and she has the charge of overseeing the operation at the Calliaqua Police Station. When you see inspector Lee-James give her some love.

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True Story - Budge: the wisest child, my teacher & my best-friend.

I was about 8 years old, One evening, during the after school hours, I was walking along Lower Bay Street area, in the vicinity of the Anglican Primary School, in the capital city of Kingstown, on the mainland, in my native home land: St. Vincent and the Grenadines. I looked into the gate of the Anglican school yard and I saw a few young boys, some of whom I knew, but were not friends with, playing a game of Marble Ring.

In the Anglican School yard, there was a netball court, with dilapidated net ball rings, a patch of dirt off to the north eastern side of the yard that was used as a cricket pitch. It was on the cricket pitch, the game of marbles were being played. I had a pocket full of marbles so I entered the yard and I asked if I can join the game. They were playing for teck; which is the opposite of playing for fun. When players play for fun, it means that you are competing just for the fun or enjoyment of the game, you are required to return to marbles won. On the other hand, when one play for teck, it means you keep what you win and you part with that which you lose. The word tack is the dialect for the word take.

The game was going well, until an older boy, ran into the school yard, where we were playing, grab some of the marbles out of the ring and run off with them. As a result the other members of the game rush to the ring in order to try to salvage for themselves what we could.  At the end of the scramble, An argument erupted between Budge and I over the marbles that we collected. 

Budge is the older brother of Pepper, they lived on Higginson Street or Devil Street, in Kingstown. Budge was a big boy for his age and had the strength to match his size. Budge also had a little reputation, among children our age as a strong man, no one dear to fight with Budge because of his strength. I had one little fight previously, where I got the upper hand over my opponent, as a result; I had a little reputation of my own, among my little friend. Budge lived immediately opposite the Anglican school, on the other side of the street; I on the other hand; live four city blocks away from where I was involved in an argument with Budge. Most of the other children, who were involved in the game of marbles, were children who lived in the general vicinity of the Anglican Primary School or who attend the school. In other words, I was the only outsider.

Someone came up with a bright idea, for Budge and I to fight in order to settle the argument, I did not think it was a good idea, and neither did budge. But on the other hand, each of us: Budge and I had a little reputation to uphold. So we agreed to settle the argument in a fight. Neither Budge nor I wanted to appear to be coward or afraid of the other. So we consented to fight. Both Budge and I locked up in a clinch, but we did not get anywhere, this happened a second time and we did not get anywhere.

I was willing to go a third time just so I will not appear to be afraid, It was then I heard Budge said, Allan you are strong and I am strong, let’s call this fight a draw. I quickly agree with budge, because my big Brother Nazi, who often taught me karate moves always told me, never to fight and never to use these move against anyone unless you are in danger.  Budge had another surprised for me; Budge stretched out his right hand as if to shake my hand. I took Budge’s hand and we shook and that was the beginning of a forever friendship, that extend even onto Adulthood.

A few weeks later, school were on Easter Holliday, As a result, Bread Head, (Garfield Mayers) Bangalan (Anthony Culzac) Boy-e (Wallsworth Bellgrave) Nie Blue (Nigel Sylvester), Animal (Steve Fox) and I went to catch bird over the reclamation sight. The reclamation sight project was still incomplete and some small birds that we call Garlings, and Ground Doves love the area. The unfinished project became a habitat for Garlings and Ground Dove. While we were making chaps to snag the birds, up come three older boys from Devil Street, and about six young boys our age group all of whom were from Devil Street.

The first thing came out of one of the guys mouth hay let’s play fighting. It was the first time I have ever heard of any such game. This was the way of the older guys to get we kids to fight for their own enjoyment. Among the older boys was a guy who my mother and his mother were very good friends. We often visited each other homes with our parents. This fighting game was his idea. So the older devil street boys began to pear us up to fight. They match it so the devil Street boys will have the advantage. 

The guy waned to ensure that I lose the fight, so he match me up to fight with you know who Budge. I did not want to but I was willing to fight budge to save face. Then I heard the words coming from budge mouth. He said: "Allan Never do me anything, Me and Allan are friends and I am not fighting with Allan, the bigger and instigator said to Budge, Budge don’t be afraid, you can beat him. Budge say I am not afraid, Allan never did me anything and I am not fighting him, I will fight someone else Budge continued. After a little while budge said I am going home and he walked away from the crown, in the direction of his home, Budge Say Pepper lets go home, Pepper was reluctant to go because he wanted to belong, then budge said, Pepper I am going to tell Ma-ah (Ma-ah was the name the brothers called their grand mother) you over the wharf fighting. Then Pepper followed his brother, from Budge's courage, everyone got the courage to tell the bigger guys we are not fighting. and we went back to what we were doing.

Budge and I developed a wonderful friendship over the years, when we were older and began go play soccer representing our respective school, Budge had developed a reputation as a dangerous defender, who will cut you down without hesitation. He often played with the older guys on Devil Street and held his own. I on the other hand was just an average player; nothing special; I made the School team because my school team had a reputation of always and consistently being the worst soccer team on the island. In the game of soccer I was average but being from Bottom Town on the school team I was good enough to be in the first eleven line up.

I remember, Budge and I met in a qualifier football game to advance to the quarter finals, I was playing right wing and Budge was playing full stopper. The venue was the Bishop Collage Football field; I could remember the events as if they had just happened yesterday. It was a rainy day; just the kind of pitch Budge relished and loved to play on. This means he can slide and tackle any one cutting them down, like a lumber jack chopping down trees with even greater ease.

Then I was given a pass and I broke away, coming down on the right wing with the ball, On my way to the gold, I held up my head, and guess who I saw coming at me full speed ahead? Yes you are right, it was Budge. Fighting each other was one thing, but this was soccer a different thing all together. I knew Budge was going to look for the perfect opportunity and them he is going to cut me down. If I am lucky I will leave the field with a sprain ankle. I was in danger because budge took no prisoner and he did not show any sign of easing up his pace was consistent. I was hoping by some lucky move I can get around Budge and evade his notorious tackle. I was shock when Budge forgo his vicious slide and tackle move, which he had master even at that young age and decided to defend me in the regular. Needless to say, Budge detained me until the other members of his defense came back and foil my attack. This was Budge remembering our friendship he had forged with me a few years earlier and was not going to make me look bad even on the field of competitive football.  

From that day until today, I have never forgotten the lesson My friend Budge have taught me even as a child. Budge will forever be my brother and my friend. We have had many more encounter as we grow up into teens, and adulthood. One thing we had incommon was a great respect for each other. Through it all Budge have always been one of my best friends and still remain so today. 

True story - Wayne Roberts: the death of a child - Overcoming Grief!

When I was about 3 or so years old, I witnessed a neighbor, who was much older than I was, became ignited from a strong rum (alcohol) related fire. The young man was Wayne Roberts; unfortunately, Wayne later die. When the incident happened, a distinct voice told me to run, at the time, I did not know, who told me to run; however, I followed the instruction and I ran. Immediately, after I began running, I heard an explosion and moments later, I forgot the details of the event. The memory of that event eventually left my mind totally. However, last year (2016), the memory of that event came back to me. I remember being questioned by two police officers. I was also taken back to the scene of the incident, which was just across the street from where I lived, Unfortunately; at the time I was of little help. I honestly could not remember what happened even though it was a moment ago.

I vaguely remembered overhearing my mother, who was an extremely spiritual woman said: I think God have blocked his (my) memory, to protect him (me) from the trauma of what he witnessed. I get the impression that I was to be ignited in that fire also; but it was the protective hands of Yahweh that covered me then and is covering me now. When Wayne was being buried, I wanted to know what was happening and what was going to happened to my friend Wayne, However, under the circumstances, my mother did not think, it was a good idea for me to be seen. after all there were many unanswered question and most people thought I had the answer. However, there was someone else who had the answers, but no one knew of that person. So Mother kept me inside and allowed me to peep through the window hidden by the curtain as she explained to me what was going on. You see that little coffin; she said, Wayne is in it. That is what happened to people when they die. she explained. 

Mr. Roberts took the death of his son very hard; as a result, this event put a strain on the good relationship between Mr. Roberts and My father. Mr. Roberts though I was responsible and therefore he blamed me for the death of his son, at lease that was what I came to believed. My father on the other hand; could not understand how a 3 year old child could be responsible for the death of a 12 years old. The circumstances surrounding Wayne’s death was never talked about by neither family again.

I can remember clearly, one day, I was in my father’s shop with my father, and I said daddy, I am going over to Mr. Roberts shop to see Mr. Roberts. Enthusiastically I bounced over to Mr. Roberts Shop; I walked into the shop as I always did, and proceeded to go to where Mr. Roberts normally sits. Before the death of his son, it was always a joy for Mr. Roberts when I visit him. He will put me on his knees and asked me question, he will also give me little treats, he will asked me things like, what Mother ( Mother was what we called out mother) cooked today, and why I did not bring him some food; just small talk that a child could engaged in. Sometimes Mr. Roberts will send me upstairs to see Mr. Roberts who will always welcome me. 

However this time, Mr. Roberts was not happy to see me, He looked at me with eyes I have never seen before, and in one motion; with pointed index finger, he swung his right hand over to his left shoulder, making an arc bringing his hand and arm down in front of him, then up to just above shoulder level and pointed me back where I came from, he also uttered some words with a very stern voice. I became frightened and I quickly make an about turn and I left, Mr. Roberts Shop, never to return. My father: Hamilton, was sitting on his bench at the door of his shop, and as I made my way across the street, my father recognized something was wrong with me; he called me to him and asked me what happened; I explained what happened to him. My father put his arms around me, and he said to me; don’t worry, Mr. Roberts is still upset because of Wayne's death. He is still angry; he did not really mean it. Everything will be back to normal soon. the comforting words of my father put me at ease.

That was the last time, I ever felt comfortable going into Mr. Roberts shop. I could remember, some years later, I was attending primary school. I was walking home from school as I normally did. Mr. Roberts was standing inform of his shop, I said good afternoon to Mr. Roberts as I always did when I pass him to and from school. It was then Mr. Roberts said; Pearson, how come you don’t come over to chat with me anymore. I went by to see Mr. Roberts in his shop a few times as I did before the incident that took Wayne's Life; but it was not the same, everything was different. Mr. Roberts shop became very gloomy and I became extremely, uncomfortable being in his shop; a discomfort that came after Mr. Roberts, in a quiet anger; marched me out of his shop. On hindsight, I think it was the sadness I sensed Mr. Roberts was still experiencing at the loss of his youngest son. I know Mr. Roberts made a tremendous effort and many years later, he was still burden with the sadness and as much as he tried, it was difficult for him to be to me the friend we were before the death of his son..

This tragedy may have been the motivating factor that led Mr. Roberts to build another house, a few miles away and move out of his home in the area, and in which his business also was house on the ground floor. May be, It was an opportunity to get away from the place which holds the bad memory of his son’s tragic death.

Apart from the relationship between Mr. Roberts and my Father Hamilton; another thing that suffered was the beautiful relationship between my mother and Mrs. Roberts. From my memory, Mr. Robert’s wife and my mother were very close and did a lot of things together. Mrs. Roberts was more understanding of the circumstances, surrounding Wayne’s tragic death than her husband was. The wife of the two business men and ex-good friends, had to ignore each other, until they were out of the sight of their husbands. However; they were able to overcome the effects of the incident with less damage to their friendship than that of there husbands were. And even the tragic nature of the lost, it did not greatly affect their friendship. I will also say this, Wayne's death was also a lost to my mother, because she was fun of all of the Roberts children. Paul, Patsy, of the other children of the Roberts were closest in age with me and I had become very close and remain close up to today. I must say it had been a while since I have seen both of them.

Back then Mr. Roberts who was still overcome with grief, could not understand how his wife could be so forgiving of me, and my parents. Now that I thought of it; I can never remembered, every having a negative or a bad experience interacting with Mrs. Roberts, there was never a time that Mrs. Roberts behavior and or attitude towards me and or the way she treated me had ever changes. She treated me with the same level of love and appreciation as she did before the tragic incident that took the life of her beloved son Wayne. 

Later when, I became a Cadet and later a police officer, Mr. Roberts appreciated it when I visited him in his shop. my visit was never long, but I will often pop into his shop especially when I was in uniform, just to say hi and to find out how he was doing. There was still a strain in his relationship with me but he had come a long way, to the point where I felt a pride he exhibited in me. Today, being a father, I can understand what Mr. Roberts was going through and I can now appreciate the tremendous effort he made over many years to overcome his resentment towards me; a resentment as a kid I did not understood but a resentment that I could now understand. The loss of a beloved child is a terrible thing to experience; especially, if that death is not fully understood.

this is how the whole story began:

I cannot remember the actual period in history, this incident occurred, however I know I was about three years old; Wayne Mr. Roberts son was about nine years older that I was. He treated me like I was his little brother. He always unselfishly shared his stuff with me, and we will play together most of the time. I walked in and out of the Roberts’ shop and home freely. Wayne and I often played in Mr. Roberts Storeroom. We will climb on top of the mountains that were created by the sacks of Sugar, flour and rice. Mr. Roberts did not mind us playing in his storeroom as long as we did not jump around on the flour, for the main purpose; the flower came in white bags, and the material the flower bags were made from a less durable material; which may rip at the seam. 

Mr. Roberts was primarily a wholesaler who offered basic stuff at retail; therefore a burst bag of any product was of no good to him. One day Mr. Roberts was doing his inventory, he had on his reading glasses, and he was sitting by his desk in his shop, where he sits when he is doing serious work or don’t want to be disturbed. Wayne and I were in his shop just doing nothing. It was then Mr. Roberts call Wayne, at that time, when Wayne was summoned I was summoned also. Mr. Roberts send Wayne to check the level on the barrels of rum which he kept in this garage. The exact assignment was to see how many full barrels of rum and how many of the rum barrels were empty. After we did that he (Mr. Roberts) sent us back to check the level of the barrel of rum that was in use. 

There was a third person present when we were checking the level of the barrel of rum that was in use. Wayne tried, I also tried but it was too dark to see anything in the barrel. We knew there was rum in the barrel for we could feel the movement of liquid when we shake the barrel. It was then that the third person who was present, who will remain nameless; suggested that Wayne use matches to check the level. When he was about to check the barrel using the matches, Wayne told me to stand away from the barrel. So I followed his instruction. Suddenly I heard a voice instructing me to run. So I run in the direction of my home. While I was in the process of running away, I was barely out of the Garage, where we were checking the Barrels, when I heard a loud bang that is of an explosion. 

That bang was the explosion that killed Wayne Roberts, The last time I saw Wayne was just before he checked the barrel for the last time.