True Story - Ralph E. Gonsalves very first official act as Prime Minister!

The campaign for the 2001 general election was in full swing, the ULP propaganda team was led by Glen Jackson, who later became Ralph Gonsalves Press Secretary and was alleged to have been murder by Ralph and his Cousin Julian. Glen went about his assignment of disseminating lies, slander and creating scandals after scandals. This was done on Glen's ever popular radio program “Shake Up.” Most of the stories of N.D.P associated corruption that were raised on that program were true, but for Ralph Gonsalves and his bunch of henchmen, in their dishonest and corrupt little minds; thought the truth was not good enough to sway the people to support them. 

As a result, the truthful incidents which amounted up to corruption, unethical acts, and dishonesty were embellished, and had fabricated stories attached and associated with them and they add juicy lies to the truth to make them sweeter. In other words they were trading in lies and deceit. 

After the General Election had concluded; there was a change in the Government, in St. Vincent and the Grenades. The N.D.P had suffered an embarrassing lost and their strangle hold on the Government of St. Vincent and the Grenadines was relinquish. I was unimpressive because I was a part of the crow of people that have assembled, at the Government house, at the swearing in Ceremony, of the new Prime Minister of St. Vincent and the Grenadines: Ralph E. Gonsalves. 

Personally I did not have any interest in being amongst the people who had gathered at the Governor General residence for the official swearing in of the new Prime Minister, but duty said I must be there. Justice Don Mitchell; the judge to whom I was assigned, was the officiating officer at the Swearing in Ceremony; therefore, liked it or not. I had a sworn obligation to be at that ceremony. 

By this time, I have come to detest Ralph E. Gonsalves and all he stood for and believed in. This was because of the level of desperation he displayed and his opportunistic behavior that was the central point of his bid to win the General Election and become Prime Munister. He always resoughted to, deception, lies dishonesty and he encouraged honest men and women to participate in the same, in order to gain the people confidence. I have come to understand from the teachings of my parents, anyone who gain your attention and your affection by lying, and treating, will do the same to keep your attention and your affection. These kind of relationships are unhealthy. 

As a result. I did all in my power to shut, down the lies and the scandals that was being propergated by Glen Jackson on their Shake Up" interactive radio program. It was not a difficult thing to do. I along with most Vincentian thought it was time for a change, but change at all and at any cost could never be good change, and I did not want to be a part of any movement that wanted change at all or any cost. Hence the reason I put my X for a man who at the time was my good friend and Basketball team mate: Bertram “Bertie” Lewis. 

As a result, as soon as Ralph Gonsalves said so help me God; which signaled the the end swearing in ceremony. Now, Ralph Gonsalves was officially the Prime Minister, there was a piece of business the new Prime Minister had to get done immediately. 

As soon as the swearing in ceremony was completed, he did not say thanks, to anyone, he did not hug his wife, he did not kiss his children, he did not shake the Judge hand and thank him for facilitating the ceremony, he did not thank the Governor General for facilitating the process. However, the new Prime Minister's first piece of business, that could not waited and had to be done immediately, took place. 

Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves, removed his hands from the bible, made an about turn, and walked over to the most important man in that room. No he did not walk over to the Governor General, nor did he walk over to the Judge, but he walked over to Allan H. F. Palmer. And in a sorry attempt Ralph Gonsalves tried to intimidate me: Allan Palmer the man who knows no fear. The most important and first order of business of the New Prime Minister of St. Vincent and the Grenadines, was a weak attempt at intimidation me. 

We all know what is said about managers, and the first task they must take on. They must always tackle a task they know for a face they are capable of doing and doing well. For failure at your first task, may be responsible for ones total failure in the capacity. 

Ralph E. Gonsalves said some seemingly intimidating words to me, and in true Bottom Town fashion, and in a manner only the late, great: Hamilton Palmer could have done, I defiant give it to him in his ass, Gonsalves was shocked at my strength, and my reply. 

I wanted Ralph to know that Allan Herman F. Palmer is not afraid of him even in his capacity as Prime Minister. I established and maintained eye contact with the New Prime Minister and I listen to what he said, and while maintaining eye contact I give him my opinion of what I thought of him. Never for one minute relinquishing eye contact with the Prime Minister. Ralph became uncomfortable with the situation he put himself in; and when he tried to look away I move my head, in order to ensure the eye contact was maintain. 

When Ralph realized that I was not afraid of him and I did not even respect him, (for the Prime Minister had not make any progress on my scale of respect), not even in his new and esteem capacity of Prime Minister, the head of Government of St. Vincent and the Grenadines, with a sheepish smile on his face, turned away and he walk back to where he was, then he did what he should have done first: celebrate his political victory with, family, friends, party members and supporters. 

This incident was Ralph Gonsalves first act as Prime Minister and his first, monumental failure. This may have very well be, the reason Prime Minister Ralph E. Gonsalves, the Prime Minister of St. Vincent and the Grenadines has been a failure in his capacity as Prime Minister. This may be so, because his first assignment, which was an assignment of his choosing was much too big for him to handle

True Story - Allan Escaped the Pedophile

I have been hearing the conversations, but I was too young, and too inexperienced to understand what the adults were speaking of. Most of the subjects (people) of these conversations I was exposed to; were people I knew. I do not think a child, of so tender an age, is supposed to have such great memory and therefore remember, in such vivid details, remember the conversations he was exposed too, conversations he was too young to understand; but I do. 

I have often heard the adults in the room said, in making a judgment call base on my tender age: a being only a juvenile, he will not understand was always said in relations to me and they were right, I did not understand the context, or the essential of the conversations, but I did not forget the words that were spoken either. I remembered every detail of those conversations even today. 

I remember church members that came to ask my mother, to request that my father use his influence, to inhibit a particular course of actions against them, or a close family member. I remember political conversation and neighborhood gossip that went on in my father's shop; the random salacious gossip I was exposed to generally. 

However, I have been hearing this particular conversation, which I would later translate into rape of little boys, in the neighborhood; I knew some of the predators and others I did not know. However, what I did not know was what happened, what they were speaking about. I did not know what the words meant and therefore I could not make heads or tail of anything that was said; but I did not forgot. 

Growing up, one of the festivals we as a family participated in was: Nine Mornings. In the day my father operated his shop, but he worked somewhere up town at night, where and what he did, I did not know, I was too young to understand, to young too know and I was too young too care. However, Nine Mornings was an opportunity for my mother to wake up all of her children, to go to church to celebrate Nine Mornings, but before we went to church, we will visit daddy on the Job.

Whilst in church, Mother always sat at the window, in the back, on the northern side of the church, on the other side of the street was the Bermuda Biscuits Company. My father will pass by, to let her know he had finished working and he was on his way home. He will respectfully knock on the window, you will hear the disturbing whispers from my siblings mother its daddy, then he will make some sign and whisper his plans to her, she will give him some signs and whisper to him in return. 

Sometimes the older children will see our father through the windows walking north on Sharp Street on the eastern side of the church, they will then declare mother look daddy walking over there; pointing to the window on the Sharp Street side of the church. Mother always instructed us to pretend as if you did not see him and we all obeyed her.

For some strange reason, daddy knocking on the window and that conversation of whispers and impromptu sign language, meant something special to my mother. Mother also made a super hero of my father to all of her children; we delighted in him and his presence. I could remember whenever our father comes upstairs after closing the shop; it was Andrea and my opportunity to vie for the attention of our father. The older kids had all grown up and had handed down the tradition of doing trivial but comforting things for our father. 

We rushed over to our father after he had settled in to his position of comfort, in his favorite chair, after which, Andrea and I will tackle him, daddy do you want your foot rub? Do you want your hair comb? daddy there is a gray hair, will you like for me to pluck it out? And later pluck them out for you. After daddy's consent my sister and I went to work on our father. I enjoy doing these little things for my father. 

At this stage of my life still I had to be carried, and I was carried mostly by my mother, or my sister Charmaine or one of my other sisters though very young will often volunteered to carry me on their backs for a short while. However, Albert my eldest brother often lift me over his head and carry me while I sit on his shoulders, with my legs straggling his neck. 

On our way from Nine Morning church we will take in all of the actions of the Nine Morning festivals as well as checking out the Christmas display in the stores. There were three sure stop, the first was at the Juc-y Factory which was located on Granby Street. The Next stop was the Market to see what the vendor had to offer at a reasonable price, then we will stop by Mr. Robertson Bakery mostly to say hello to Mr. and Mrs Roberson. 

I looked forward to nine mornings, and I went to nine mornings every year of my life with my mother, until I was six years old. The Nine Mornings celebration of 1972, my mother was ill. By this time my sister Charmaine the adventurous one of the family, volunteer to take me nine mornings, when it was convenient to her of course. This was after making arrangement with her friends to meet. Mother will never send Charmaine to nine mornings on her own because she was a no-nonsense teenager, she was quick to fight and mother knew she will not fight, if I was present because I may get hurt. Let’s just say it happened before. 

I remembered very well one of the mornings, I asked Charmaine if we were going to nine mornings the following day and she said no. It was rear you hear her say no to something like that, however, she had no interest in going to Nine Mornings that morning. On hindsight I think she had just found out that Mother was terminally ill and was dying as a result lost all desire to do the things she loved to do. 

However, I got up early about 3:00 Am, I looked in the drawer and I put on some clothes, I remembered how Charmaine will open and lock the kitchen door, from inside and outside and I climb up and I open the door. And I was off to Nine Mornings. I got out of the house undetected, at lease so I thought. However, I was off to participate in nine mornings. 

I fearlessly walked around Back Street, unaware of the dangers that was lurking on the street. After all, we had done this many times before, and nothing bad ever happened; so what can go wrong? However, I never realized that the street was so lonely before around Nine Morning time. That was because when we were going to Nine Mornings, it was the whole family, my seven siblings and my mother. But this before dawn morning, it was Me and God alone and I mean that literally. it was a little scary but I had already invested and just a few blocks away their will be people.

When I reach to the bridge on Back Street next to the Sanitation Department, the North River Bridge I met a man, sitting on the Bridge, he had a new shiny 100 CCs Suzuki Motorcycle; I immediately knew where that motorcycle was purchased, I have seen those Motorcycles in Boise Bonadie; the toy store. 

The man whose name I later found out to be Mr. Millington; was the brother of Ms. Coral in the alley at Bottom Town. Mr. Millington was a supervisor at the Sanitation department and his name was often associated with the rapes of little boys in the neighborhood; rapes that went on reported because the parent of the victims did not want anyone to know what had happened. Although they did not want anyone to know about the pedophilia abuse of their sons, the new were always made public. This was one of the name I heard in the adult discussion but I did not know who Mr. Millington was, and still did not understood what the adults interest in him was. 

Mr. Millington became all excited when he saw me; it was the perfect situation, 3:00 O’clock in the morning, a little boy on the street unattended, there were no one around. This was a pedophile’s dream come true. The man said in a soft trusting voice, little boy come here, I walked over to the man confidently, but respectfully keeping my distance. I remember seeing my father having a conversation with the man one time. once the man came to my father shop to have a drink, my father had some serious words with him then he told him his business is not welcome here; the man hurriedly left my father's shop without a drink and he never return. 

The man continued in a soft trusting voice, he said little boy, do you like my bike, I said yes, after all it looked like a new bike just out of the store. Then he said who is your father, I said my father's name is Mr. Palmer, then he asked where does he live, I said we are living on Queen Street, in a blue house, my father has a shop downstairs. I answered, then he said little boy would you like a ride on my motor Bike, I said yes. The man said I am going to ride cross, the Street I am going to slow down and when I slow down, point out the house to me. 

I got onto the back of the bike, and he did as he said. He drove down to the cemetery made a U-Turn in the wide spot in front of the cemetery, and drove back to where he picked me up, he stopped the bike and he shushed me away with both hands in the same manner you chase away flies, or the same way a person will chase an unwelcome visitor out of their home. While he was shewing me away he uttered the words go on little boy go on! He wanted to get the rid of me and he wanted to get the rid of me as fast as possible. 

On my return home three hours later, my mother heard the tackling of the door; she came to meet me at the door, and did the honors. She let me know that she knew when and that I left the house. She further told me she did not stop me, because she will not always be there to watch over and protect me. My mother was very ill and had only recently discovered her illness was terminal: she had cancer and was in a tremendous amount of pain, she knew her time on this side of the earth was almost but done. 

However instead of stopping me from going on an adventure, that she could not control when she have depart this life; she did the thing she knew best. She continue: "As soon as, you left the house; I went down on her knees and prayed that God will send a mighty angels to keep me safe, while I were out there on your own; and I never got off of my knees or stop praying until, I hear the door being open." On hindsight, It must have been a tremendously difficult thing, for Mother to remain on her knees, for three long hours, fighting off the pain, in order to remain coherent enough; to plea her case, on my behalf to and with the Most High God.

I did not see what was the fuss, I did what we always do, I had fun and I was never in danger. I was two young to understand the serious danger I was in and I was not even aware of it. I was safe because, of my mother intervention. What is more powerful than a sorrowful parent on their knees interceding with God for a child? Thanks to my mother's prayer; the Most High put the fear of my father in that man, to the extent that the though of my father's wrath extinguished his sexual desire and he could not wait to get the rid of me.

A week or so later, I was in the Alley playing a game of marbles in Ms. Carol yard, with Colin Ms. Carol son, and other neighborhood kids. When Mr. Millington road into the yard with his bike. I was happy to see my friend, I did not know his name, So I greeted him Hay my friend.

My Greeting to Mr. Millington the pedophile cause carol to flip out. I heard her saying, to her brother, with a level of seriousness I have never heard from her before: I hope you did not interfere with Mr. Palmer's child you know! No no I did not trouble that child; the pedophile said. The fear instilled by the mighty angel that look over me, still troubled him.

True Story - A testament of a good Character David Robin and Norma Keizer

I have been a police officer for less than a year yet, I had gained so much experiences and was embroiled in more controversy then a twenty years veteran police officer. I had to confront the biggest and baldest police officer in the SVG Police Force: Superintendent Mr. Crow, I had a group planned to kill me and was about to executed that plan; had it not been for some friendly interventions they would have tried. I got the big break through and was responsible for solving a series of Burglaries, which have been troubling the staff of Questelles Police Station for months. Yet; I was too naïve to notice that something was not normal or to ever once took an apprehensive looked over my shoulder.

I was dispatched to New Montrose Police Station on duty, I drove up Bedford Street, I noticed there was a commotion in the front of Bounadie Supermarket, I was between two decision, should I stop and address the matter, or should I continue on the duty, I was dispatched to perform. However, while I was driving pass contemplating what I should do; I was flagged down and asked to come and deal with the issue that was brewing within the Supermarket. The matter I was going to at the Old Montrose Police Station was not an emergency, as a result, and very inexperience on dealing with incidents as a police, I went into the store with the attitude: I will figure it out.

When I entered the store, I was shown a woman by the manager of the supermarket and I was told that she was found shoplifting and she is trying to leave the store before the police arrive. All crimes in the City of Kingstown were CID's responsibility to deal with. I asked the manager if he call the police before I came. He said yes, he also informed me that the CID person is on their way.

The lady had a motherly look, and she reminded me of my mother, who had been dead since I was seven years. I quickly pictured my mother in this unfortunate woman's situation and I shivered at the taught. I felt a great deal of compassion for the lady; however, I did not have the authority to forgive her actions. If I had that authority to so do, I surely would have.

The lady recognized the soft side in me, and she tried to take advantage of it. She said officer I did not steal anything, I cannot stay here, I have to get home. I try speaking to the lady to give her hope. I said to her, Listen to me lady, you have to wait until CID come to deal with the report. She took her hands and she pleadingly thumped me in my chest, I did not do anything, I have to leave. As she try to make her way out of the store.

I graciously and gently use my hand and moved her away from the door and back into the store. By this time the woman was crying and I was touched by the crying motherly looking middle age woman. As she cried, she said still pleadingly thumping me on my chest: “I am not staying here, I did not do anything.” I told her: "lady if you did not do anything, you have nothing to worry about, the truth will come out."

By this time, it seems like all of the shoppers in the store have stop their shopping and had gathered around to see what the commotion was all about. People were coming into the store just to see what was happening. Everyone wanted to know what was happening. I could hear the people asking what happened, as the tearful lady pleadingly thumped me on the chest telling me she is not staying and making her way to the door of the supermarket. By this time I had instructed to management to lock the supermarket door which he did. This will give me less physical police contact with the lady trying to keep her in the store.

The questions flew from the crowd of onlookers, what happened they asked unending questioning persist; as they were all searching for answers, to justify their presence and to keep the rumor mill turning over. I looked into the crowd, I saw some faces I often see going back and forth around Kingstown doing their business. There was one person, a member of the staff that I knew very well and she knew me very well also. I was happy to see someone whom I knew and who knew me personally. If thing get out of control, at lease, there is one person, I knew, to whom I can turn to for the truth about the incident, I was comforted by that thought.

The question of what happened was still coming from the crown. And then, I saw and I heard that person whom I knew the one I thought would have my back in the event wild accusation began to fly; spoke up to set the record straight. I heard her said in my presence, publicly, and with out hesitation she declared; "the woman, is pregnant and the officer punched her in her stomach." This story caught on, It took on a life of its own and began to circulated like wild fire right in my presence.

Everyone was relating the new fabricated story and there was nothing I could have done about it or to stop it. I could not defend myself because I still had my hands full with the lady who was reluctant to stay in the story and await CID officers who were on their way. My hope was shattered and I did not know how I was going to deal with this situation. This was new to me, I was swimming in extremely rough waters and in unfamiliar territory and I was being knocked about by the high tide.

And then, I say Superintendent (SOP) David Robin the Commandant of the Course Guard dressed in uniform, walking all erect and confident as he is always, entered the store. Immediately David Robin presence was felt. Commandant Robin's present brought an sense of resolution to the crowd. The lady somewhat modified her behavior, and the crowd calmed down at the presence of this highly respected Police officer. Now they were waiting to see what new twist this drama was going to take.

I was embarrassed and I was relieved at the same time to see the Commandant. I was embarrassed that the respected Superintendent, my childhood family friend came and found me in such a tumultuous situation; where some fabricated allegations of my actions had brought name and character into questioned. I could not defend myself against the speculations; even though the information was a fabrication of the reality. I was happy because at lease, here is someone, whom I knew all of my life and who can attest to my character. The difference between the commandant and the supermarket worker was; the Commandant was a dignified and respected man.

What most people don't know, is Superintendent David Robin's family and my family have been close friends for more than four generations. David Robin's grand father and father were very close friends with my father and we spent a lot of time together as kids. Every day after work, David Robin's father will drove his family to Bottom Town, where they will stop and spend some time with my father's shop before proceeding to their home.

At times, the stop will be to pick up David's grand father and grand mother, who after completing their business in Kingstown, will make their way to my father's shop to hang out with their friend Mr. Palmer: My father, until their beloved son finished working. There David's father will pick up his parents and they will go on their merry way home.

Like clock work, each year on Carnival Monday and Tuesday, the Robin will spend that day with my father; there David, his sister Andrea, me and my sister Andrea will spend quality hours together as children. This tradition continued until, the kids grew up and the Patriarch Mr. Robin die and my father die.

The Superintendent approached me and in a calm voice he said "Palmer what happened", Not forgetting his rank and the respect that goes along with his rank. I explained what happened. David said; OK Palmer, you go and complete your duty; I will deal with this issue. The commandant and the lady in question were from the same neighborhood and he knew her very well. I leave and that was the last thing I heard about that incident from a police prospective. I did not do anything wrong, so I had no need to look over my shoulder.

A week or two later, I went by the Search Light News Paper, when I get there, the secretary told me, Palmer Ms. Keizer will like to see you in her office. I went into Mrs. Keizer's office and after the formalities she said Palmer, one of my reporters wrote a story about you punching a pregnant women in her stomach in Bounadie's supermarket. Was that you or is there another Palmer they mixed you up with? She asked. I answer no they did not mixed me up with anyone, it was me. Then she asked; What was that all about? I did not remember reading that story; however, I knew I had some explaining to do.

I explained to Mrs. Keizer what happened and she said with relief. "I knew what was being reported does not match your character and personality. I run the story, but I could not in all honesty and with a good conscience print your name unless I had confirmed the incident. It would not have been right to do that and it is a good thing I made that call not to print your name with the story. I also guess that was why we did not hear anything about that again." she said in closing.

True Story - A Politician's Gimmick & A sister's struggle

The year was 1985, the month was September, I was still recovering from an extensive surgery, to repair injuries sustained from a stab wound to my stomach, an incident which happened on Villa Beach. I was at home when a message came to me that my constituency representatives: the Hon. John Horne, wanted to see me at his constituency office; It was suggested by the bearer of the message "he may have a job for you." 

I dropped out of High School while I was in the fourth form, with a promise to my sister and sole guardian Clare, I will complete my secondary education at evening classes. As a result, of my education standard, I was qualified for very few jobs, all of which were menial level and I understood that. 

At this stage of ST. Vincent and the Grenadines history, anyone with three Ordinary (O levels) passes, could earn a spot in the Government Service, and three O levels passes including English Language; qualified an individual to be employed as a teacher. Just a few years earlier, a Primary School Leaving certificate, qualified an individual, to become a grade teacher. I did not expect anything special; I just wanted to be kept busy. 

I went to Mr. Horn's constituency office, to meet with him as he requested, with no serious expectations. Whilst in the meeting, the politician inquired about how I was doing, then he asked if I was working, I told him no. As far as my work history was concerned, I had a short stint working with the Vector controlled unit a division of the Ministry of Health; I did some sales but nothing much after finishing school. By this time, I was out of school just about 2 years. 

Then Mr. Horne said in his big official tone of voice, "Allan how many subject do you have?" We all lives in a small community and everyone knew the history of everyone within the community. When I heard those words, I emotionally sank in the chair with embarrassment. I said, I don't have any subject, I pause then I continued; Mr. Horne, you know I dropped out of school in form 4. Then he continued; "We have a few opening, but you need to have subjects to qualify for those Jobs." Disappointed and embarrassed, I shook my shoulder bringing both of my shoulders up and forward cupping my chest. 

I knew if Mr. Horne was serious in getting me a job he would have. But then again, a year earlier, I refused to Join Mr. Horn's West Kingstown party group, when he requested that I become an official member. I took the opportunity to express clearly to Mr Horne how I felt about political affiliation. I supported Mr. Horn's bid to win the West Kingstown constituency in the general elections, but I was not going to now give him my unconditional support, by joining his party group. 

As a result, of my refusal to join Mr. Horne's West Kingstown constituency group, Mr. Horne threw me off of the Rose Place Play Ground Committee, without me knowing that I was no longer a member. I knew Mr. Horn's invitation to his office, was an act of grandstanding, with ulterior motives; he really wanted to know if I understood, the spiritual workings behind my stabbing. He also wanted the people who was talking about me and my incident on the beach, within the community see me coming to his constituency office. It was never about me and I suspected that. 

However, I left Mr. Horn's constituency office, with one thing in mind, never again, will I be caught in that situation. That same week, I did what I was putting off for over two years. I signed up for evening classes, and that begin my quest to complete my secondary education fulfilling a promise to my sister and creating an opportunity to better myself. 

Adult school was not as difficult as I thought it would have been, because Mr. Horn's questions and the way he made me feel, stuck with me, it found a special place in my mind. Added to that fact, I had two of the best tutors, both tutors took a personal interest in my academic pursuit; Mrs. Heather Williams and Mrs. Joseph, the wife of Calypsian Alexis Joseph. Those ladies’ encouragement was all I needed, Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Joseph made me feel like I could walk on water, and I took that confidence to the other classes. 

Before I realized it, I had signed up for, taken, completed and passed my O levels subjects. I was happy with my accomplishments; but there was someone who was extremely proud of my accomplishments; there was no one more proud of my accomplishment like my sister Clare Palmer. 

When my mother die, I was only seven years old. Clare was just out of her teens, starting her nursing career, she had her whole life ahead of her; she had suitors who had proposed to her, proposals which she turned down. She did not have to, but she took upon herself, the responsibility for mothering me and my sister Andrea and she was not going to let anything get in the way of that. Not to down play the role of other family members, but my sister Clear invested her money, her time and her life in me and my sister Andrea. At times, it did not look like a wise investment, for she got mainly stress in return for her investments, but I never heard her complaint. 

For quite a while, it seems like My sister Clear’s investment was not going to yield any dividend. A total unproductive investment but she never gave up on me. She was always there reminding me to push on. Clear was not looking for any personal benefits from me, all she wanted, was for me to do my best, and to achieve what she knew I was capable of achieving. 

About two year after my first disappointed encounter with John Horne, I went to the Ministry of Education to conduct some business. While I was in the general office, Mr. Horne returns to work from lunch. He saw me in the office; he greeted me and then he said Allan I am happy to see you, come with me. Mr. Horne used me as a ploy to avoid interacting with the people who had gathered all around waiting to see him; people he had promised to help and had been coming for the help he promised. People who was more cantankerous than I could ever hope to be or even imagined myself to be. 

The conversation started the same way it began the last time I saw him. He said Allan are you working, I answered "yes. I am working at Bulah Yachts." He said in his big official tone of voice; “Allan I might have something that you can do.” Then he turned to me and he asked the question I was hoping he would ask. He asked “Allan do you have any subjects?” I looked at him square in the eyes, with a rewarding smile on my face; I proudly said yes I do. 

I waited for this moment for two long years. Immediately Mr. Horne facial expression changed. My answer caught him off his guard. It was just two years ago, he asked me the same question and I did not have any subjects; now I am answering yes to his question. I saw the curious anticipation on Mr. Horne's face, as he patiently waited for me to complete my answer. I looked Mr. Horne in his eyes and I declared; "I have four O levels, including English language." The news was so shocking to Mr. Horne that he could not helped himself but to immediately offer me a job. 

At this stage, I was qualified to be a teacher; I was even more qualified than a fair amount of the teachers in the teaching system. In fact, there were teachers who were employed on Mr. Horne's watch, who had three subjects without English Language, and in other cases, there were teachers who were employed with only two O level passes. I could remember clearly it was the talk of Kingstown that the Hon. Jerry Scott's daughter only had one subject and found employment at the SVG National Bank the National Commercial Bank. 

Then Mr. Horne asked, in his official voice, "Allan, have you ever considered being a teacher?" I replied Yes, then he continued in his big shot official voice, "this is what I want you to do, go now, prepare an application, get two recommendations, your O levels certificate and bring it to me as soon as possible". he paused and he thought for a brief moment then he said; "As a matter of fact, take it to the Chief Education officer, let him know that I told you to apply." 

My first stop was to find Leroy Mulraine AKA Porkes: ex-chief Education Officer, who was happy to and immediately give me a recommendation, the next person I found was George Federicks, who also give me a recommendation. I got proof of my qualifications and I return them the same day. 

I was all excited, for the simple fact, My eldest brother: Albert "Skipper" Palmer was a teacher who had developed a stellar reputation in the field, my Sister Andrea was also a teacher, holding her own and enthusiastic about her career and the fact, Over the pass year I met with a young lady whom I was working with in preparing her for O level Principles Of Business and she passed the subject. She credited me with the ability of making complex things simple. 

I waited for four long years and there was no word on my application to be a teacher. In the summer of 1991, I attended a Graduation of the boys Grammar School, on the invitation of a friend, at that Graduation John Horne's was making a presentation, he saw me in the audience, it was then he took the liberty to tell me from the podium that I will never be a teacher under his watch. He did this by saying that his ministry has raise the minimum qualifications for teachers from 3 subjects including English Language to Five O levels subject including English Language. making my four years old application useless. 

Some ten years later, Mr. Horne was getting back at me for choosing to be independent thinking young man and embracing my democratic and constitutional rights to refuse to be or to become affiliated to any organization I choose too.

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True Police Story - Weaving the tangled web of deception

She was the most beautiful East Indian woman I have ever seen; no older than twenty five years, she stood naked in my presence, her standing nude body glues to mines both of her arms encircled my waist that resulted in a tight grip, the side of her face pressed gently onto my chest. 

I felt the rapid pounding of her heart, a strong, rapid and heavy beat that gave the impression, her heart was trying to leap out of her chest. I could also feel the heavy shaking of her body as she trembled in a lopsided embraced. This beautiful lady that cling to my bosom, had found the sense of security she needs in my arms. This (My arms) is her new place of safety. 

this incident started about an hour earlier, I heard familiar voice called me, the loud voice said: "Rambo come here;" Yes Corporal (Cpl.) Wendell Wickhum I answered. He continued: "the officer (senior officer in charged) just called, there is an incident at Arnos Vale just before you meet the roundabout. A woman was heard screaming, then a slamming of a door. They said to have you go to Calliaquia, pick up a CID officer from the Calliaquia Police Station; whose name he called and the woman police to go and deal with the issue. I immediately; voiced my objections and my dissatisfaction with the folly of this duty. 

I was required to drive from Central Police Station in Kingstown, drive about a mile and a half to Arnos Vale, where a possible violent crime was in progress; I was required to drive pass the incident and ignore the victim in distress, drive in excess of another mile and a half to Calliaquia, to pick up two inexperienced police officers; one a CID officer who should not have been assigned to that department and a uniformed female police officer. 

What was Ironic was; there had just been the dismissal of a parade of senior, competent beat men that had just being inspected and assigned their patrol duties for the night. Some of these men had worked CID at one point in their policing career. Each of these officers were more competent and more courageous, than the CID personnel I was asked to pick up. I said "Rambo (Cpl. Wendell Wickham) let two of the guys go with me, we can deal with the situation." The Cpl. Replied, Rambo, I am taking orders just like you. The officer said to tell you to go to Calliaquia pick up the CID personnel and have them deal with the matter. It is in their division. 

As a result, I drove as fast as I could, given there was not much traffic on the road at that time of the night, I got to Calliaquia in quick time. I pick up the two officers and head back to Arnos Vale to the scene of the incident. The amount of time that had elapse with the excess driving, that victim may have been raped several times, and or killed. Who was going to compensate the victim, for the pain and the suffering, they were made to endure because of some supervisor's callousness and incompetence. 

However, when we got to the scene of the incident, I was still upset over the initial events of this incident. I decided to stay in the vehicle and let the two officers deal with the incident on their own. However, I could not depend on their collective abilities and their competence. So I came out of the police vehicle and I went with them, to play a secondary role. After knocking on the door; we were let into the downstairs apartment of the two story house. 

We were let into the house by a naked, yellow skin fellow, a man whom I knew, from the criminal class in the Kingstown area. He hanged around, the Quarry, Long Wall, and Harlem Edge area of Kingstown. He went into the bedroom and fetch the lady who was suppose to be his girlfriend. She was also naked, as a result, both of them stood in front of the bedroom door. He had his right arms fixed around her shoulder. The lady in this case was an East Indian lady; she was about five feet, four inches tall, slimly built and she was an extremely beautiful woman. She was standing on the man's right with her right arm around her counterpart's waistline. 

I knew, the man by his family name, however, the CID officer knew him and addressed the man as skoie, and he was doing all the talking. He accused the police of interrupting their night, the CID officer asked the lady if she was ok and she said yes. However, something was wrong with the entire scenario, but I could not put my hand on it. While the three police were in the apartment, the lady had a serene look upon her face. As a result, the CID officer jokingly, whispered to me, "boy Skoie is a lucky man, look at the kind of woman he fucking."

I did not see the humor in his remarks. I knew something was not right with the picture I was looking at. Something was not in context. But what was it? By this time the CID officer and the female police officer had resigned to the fact, that it was a consensual relationship between two adults, and they had exited the house. I could see both of them standing by the police vehicle, in a discussion. 

I was afraid to leave the apartment, and thus leaving the woman behind; something deep inside my gut told me this lady was in danger; but there was no evidence to support my suspicions. I slowly made my way to the door of the ground flow apartment, still keeping my eyes on the couple; looking for some indication from the female that she was in distress and under duress. But from the woman's facial expression, I did not recognize any sign of distress. 

Then I said to the couple; you all have a good night, we are going. Still looking for some sign of distress. Then, with my back turn to the door, still looking at the hugging couple, I lifted up one foot to put it out of the door, onto the landing of the step. It was then; I got the sign I was looking for. The little, beautiful East Indian lady, who was a UN worker that came to the island to run an agricultural seminar, Opened her eyes extremely wide, I saw terror in her eyes, and I heard loudly her unspoken concern; which translated to: Are you going to leave me hear with this man; who had just raped me to rape me all night? 

The calm look that the lady had on her face that I interpreted as a contented lady in the arms of her men. Was a sense of relief and the safety she felt now the police was there and her nightmare that had started about an hour ago had ended. The lady felt safe and it showed in her demeanor.

I then call the CID officer and said come here man something is not right here. As a result, the two officers ended their conversation and rushed back into the house. The CID officer then shouts at the man using his street name. Skoie let her go! he said. Immediately the lady broke free from the forced lover’s link she was threaten to form and maintained in order to give the police the impression, their affair was mutual and consensual. 

A river of tears uncontrollably, ran down her face. Running, she made her way over to me, overpowered by emotions, the grateful UN envoy threw her naked body into my arms. My arms automatically opened, not just to receive the beautiful damsel in distress; but to insure, my hands did not accidentally touched any part of the victim's naked body. The grateful lady securely held me around my waist, she pressed the side of her face into my chest as she cried uncontrollable. I could feel her fragile body trembled with fear as she sobbed.

I was still froze in the position, I was in when when the lady first ran into my arms. I still had both of my arms up and partially extended. I fully understood the young lady’s response and I knew that for her, I was her place of safety from the events that will forever leave her scarred and traumatized. I knew she needed that time of security. But it was a very awkward position for me. As a result, I told her everything is going to be all right and then I awkwardly took my hands, held her by her shoulders and peal her off of me; call the female police over and handed her over to the woman police officer. 

Later, we discovered, on the police arrival to the scene, before he came out to open the door for the police; the assailant had threaten the young lady; not to cooperated with the police or he will kill her. No one ever requested a statement from me, as it related to this incident. Like most incident I had a significant hand in dealing with or serving; it was the police authorities plans, to wipe every trace of me from this incident also in the same manner they did so many times before. However, sometime later, I was summon to the family court to give evidence in Preliminary Inquiries, which was strange. 

That was my first and last time I appeared before the Family Court to give evidence. Author Williams was the Defendant’s lawyer and Adolphus Delpleach was the Police Prosecutor. I was not aware if that was the way police give evidence in Family Court or if Delpleach was trying to protect me because I was green. However; the prosecutor led me through my evidence without a statement this is a testimony of how Good Delpleach is. Author Williams try his best to waive a web of confusion around me but failed in every opportunity. Of course I am far too intelligent to be confused by the trivial efforts of this revere not so bright lawyer; unless he was speaking in a language that I do not understand he was and wasted his time. 

Later the police authority asked me if I will like to go to CID to drive. I said, why would I want to go to CID as a driver, So I can spend my time taking less intelligent and less competent men that I am to do duties they should not be performing.

True Story: Edda Ambris & tackling a Crazy man.

From the best of my knowledge, I do not believe I knew Corporal (Cpl.) Edda Ambris before I became a police officer; however, I had the privilege to work less than a week under her direct supervision, as a police officer fresh out of training School assigned to beat and patrol. Just before the week ended, I was officially transferred to the Transportation section. At the Transport Section, my responsibilities were to drive the police vehicles.

Once and unknowing to Cpl. Ambris, I overheard her speaking to someone, about me, in what was suppose to be in my absence. Cpl. Ambris and another person was sitting in the room, immediately behind the station office at the Central Police Station, which was reserved for dealing with reports and recording statements. I had just drove into the yard and exited the vehicle, then I heard the Cpl. said to the person, “Look at how the authority wasting that boy Palmer, they have him driving police transport; and he is such an intelligent fellow. Unlike the other drivers, who works at the Transport Sections, he is always willing to work; Anything you want to get done, just ask Palmer; he never say no.”

Of course, I pretend like I did not hear the conversation; after all, it was not meant for my ears. Ms Ambrist was a hardworking single mother, and she was a good police officer. One that had the respect and the confidence of the people around her. I get the impression, the higher ups did not like her very much. That may have been because she stood up for herself and the men under her supervision. One day Ms. Ambris called me into the station’s office at the Central Police Station, where she was the Station Officer; she said to me, "Palmer record a statement from that man for me." When I was finished recording the statement, I handed it into to her, it is then she said to me: “Palmer, you must come in to the station office and help out, so when you are transferred to outstation, you will have an idea what to do.”

As a result, I took up the Corporal's offer, and often, I worked as her station orderly, when her team was short staff, along with my driving duties. When the other team leaders (NCO) at the Beat and Patrol, saw me working station orderly under Cpl. Ambris supervision they too began to use me to hold on at the Station Orderly while their Orderly took their break and or when they were short staff. With Cpl Ambris' help, I learn a lot. I learn how to make cohesive entries into the station diary, how to update the number 9 the petty offense register, and the petty offence statistic, and how to cross-references the same with the station diary. I learn how to book prisoners into the station, how to take, log and secure prisoner’s property.

Although the Central Police Station, station’s office do not have a number 8 or a crime register and an accident register, from her teaching, I got to understand the basic principles of updating the said logs. As a result, a few months later, when I was transferred to the Barrouallie Police Station; and Cpl. Noel Patterson was burdened down with being the station orderly, the station officer and was expected to also do the monthly returns of the station, I volunteer to work the station orderly.

Of course Cpl. Patterson was hesitant. Because I was a driver and the drivers did not know how to do police work. However, Patterson handed over the station orderly to me, he took the logs and went upstairs to do the monthly returns. He told me to call him if I need help. Patto made some checks to see if I was doing ok.

However, later that day, when Cpl. Patterson came down to examine the diary and the other document including the petty offence and crime register their statistics etc. While going through the records, and the statements I had recorded, I hear Cpl. Patterson declare; “Ah way the fuck me ah hear ya! And you ah driver!” He paused for a while as he continued to examine the record and to read through the statements I record while the station orderly, then he said: “Naa me have to bring this to specky’s (Inspector Dougan) attentions, you doing better work then most of the police here and them got you driving fucking police transport.” His voice competed with the culture music that was blaring in the back ground; the music he always play and sing along to while he work.

Had it not been for the counsel and the help of Edda Ambris, I would not have been as prepared as I was upon being transferred. As a result, of Patterson’s intervention, my duties were doubled, I was now assigned as the other men were assigned, along with my driving duties. But I did not mind the extra work. I was and am not afraid of hard work and I was not a new comer to hard work.

However, around this time, I was back at the Transport Section, at the Central Police Station on another assignment there. I was beckoned to the station’s office by Cpl. Ambris, she said Palmer I have a crazy man at Ottley Hall behaving bad, I want you to take two men and deal with the matter for me. the Cpl. assigned the two men and I departed to deal with the incident. The NCO’s at the Central Police Station knew how I work; When I was the senior person on the mission they instructed me. They knew I am not the kind of person that dropped juniors to an incident sit back in the vehicle and what happened, happened. I understood my role as a police officer and I understood the responsibility of my seniority.

I had two very young police officers, who had just passed out of training school. Cpl. Ambris’ last instructions to me was. Palmer don’t go over there and get injured, if you cannot deal with the man leave him and let the authorities send SSU. That is what they are there for.

On arrival I saw a large crowd of people standing in the street looking up into the veranda of the two story wall house. all of the attention was focused on the second floor the building. This house appears to have a business on the ground floor. No one appeared to be at home all of the doors and the windows were lock.

I saw some of the people from my neighborhood who have occupied squat lands and now have their home in the area. The first person to address me was my old neighbor Pat for Ruth or Patricia Telemaque, whose mother's name was Ruth. Ruth was a family friend and a neighbor. She said to me; “Allan why them send you, instead them send SSU. "Na go up they mak that man push you over that banister yon na”.

One look at the crazy man standing in the poach, and the young police began to panic. The man was naked as he was born. If my mental recollection served me correct; he was about five feet nine inches tall, I was just a hair taller than he was. And he was all bulging muscles. I looked at the community in distressed and the interest the community had in this situation; and I knew that I cannot just turn around and go back to the station. What kind of police I would be to leave the community in distress; what kind of example would I be setting for those who knew and respected me.

One thing I knew, whatever happened today, I will leave that place with the respect of everyone present. not for foolishly trying to be a hero. But I was going to do my best. Because, I noticed their apprehension, I did not want to make the job any harder for them, by forcing them into actions they were not mentally or otherwise prepared for. As a result, I told the young police to stay at the transport, if things go wrong call for back up. I walked up the steps to the poach. There came that voice of cautions from pat again. Allan na mek that man push you off that poach yon na.”

I had a plan it was not the best or the wisest plan but I had to appear to be doing my job. I turn my back to the wall in the same manner the man was standing, and I began to inched my way down to where the man was standing on the poach. I extend my right foot side first and then I bring my left foot to meet my right foot. By approaching the mentally deranged man this way, I did not open myself to be thrown off the veranda. And by the looks at this man’s muscular frame he could have done so with ease.

As I inched my way down to the crazy man I never once took my eyes off of him. If he even flinched I must know. However, and fortunately for me, the man did not move a muscle. I was in an arm’s length of the man, it will be foolish to get any closer, I do not know this man, I had not background information of the man and what he was doing prior to the call. It would have been foolish for me to get any closer to him. At lease I had taken some action to justify my attending the scene. He did not react to me getting within arm’s length of him; Now I must push the envelope a little further.

Now I must see how he will react to being touched without getting into trouble with this well-built crazy man. As a result, I slowly stretched out my right hand to my right then, I gently touched him on his shoulder to test how he was going to react to being touched. The crazy man had allowed me within three feet from the man. May be he will have a different reaction when being touched. In my mind, I should be able to react fast enough and get out of harm’s way if anything should go wrong. On hindsight, I was really in harm’s way all the while.

Then with my outstretched right hand, I gently touched the shoulder of them well built unnamed mentally insane man. Then something happened; the man moved at my touch. His movement was not rough, brisk, and neither was in aggressive. It was a sudden and unexpected casual movement; The Crazy man turned and he walked as if to walk off the veranda. I did not remove my hand from his shoulder; then I realized he was following my lead, so I lead him off the veranda, down the steps and over to the transport where the two police were waiting with a pair of old screw hand cuffs to put on him.

I told them no; no handcuffs. This man was cooperating with us, no need to do anything to anger or cause him to stop cooperating with us. I led the man into the police vehicle, I told the officers who were with me, to sit on either side of the man, however if he start acting up then we will have to restrain him and try to put the hand cuffs on him. Then I got into the transport and I began to drive that vehicle with my accelerator to the floorboard. I by pass police procedure for admitting patient to the mental health center. I managed to get him to the Mental Health Center safe and I hand him over to them staff there. It was now up to them in dealing with this man. he was no longer my or the police responsibility. Technically he was still the police responsibility until his admittance paper work was completed.

But they Staff at the Mental Health Center understood the situation on these encounters and often forgo the procedures to accommodate the re-hospitalization of potential aggressive patient.

True Story - PC Allan Palmer saved a prisoner's life

I was working the grave yard shift with the Bermuda Police Service, Assigned to the Hamilton Police Station A watch. We were short staff; as a result, we had a few people from the different shift and department doing overtime on A watch. It was now time for me to go on my refreshments (Lunch break), as a result; I went back to the station to catch up on some work.

I had developed a record, of having never submitted a late case-file on an investigation. I also had the privilege of having most of the cases I investigated went to court and with the exception of two of the cases, I took to court, I secure convictions on each of the others. It is important to note that I have never lied, in a trial and neither did I took part in any unlawful or unethical activities that would have given a defendant a disadvantage.

Policing came very easy for me, although, in the early part of my police training, I was unsure, if I will ever be able to categorized the various offences. But I worked on the notion that if others can, I could.

Inspector Eswhick a Barbadian national was the inspector duty officer; he was manning the station while the Sargent was taking her refreshment. I was sitting in the reports room working on a case-file. There were four uniformed police offices in the station from the watch: there was the Jailer; a Barbadian, my partner was also a Barbadian national, the inspector who was also a Barbadian and myself a Vincentian.

My partner, was assigned to the Traffic Branch Motorcycle section; but tonight he was doing over time. We were sitting in the reports room talking while I catch up on my work. The Jailer came into the reports room very casually and said, the inspector said both of you must come into the jail area immediately.

So Myself and my partner casually walked to the Jail area. We were let into the jail area by the inspector after we made our arrival known. When we got to the reception area of the Jail area, the inspector pointed us to the cell area. When I looked into cell number two, I was shocked at what I saw.

I saw a white sheet, tie around the top bar of the cell, at the other end of the white sheet; I noticed, the sheet was securely tied around the neck of a man in the cell. The man was a prisoner of the Bermuda Police Service; and he was hanging by his neck. The man feet and carves were touching the ground; however, his buttocks were off the ground and his upper body was leaning onto the bars of the cell. That meant the pressure was still on man's neck, the process of suffocation was still actively being carried out.

I had no information about the incident but what I saw, I did not know how it happened, when it happened and at what time the prisoner that was hanging by the neck was discovered. But what I did know that someone's ass was grass and that ass was not mine. The inspector and the Jailer though the man was dead. The Jail just a month earlier, had resigned from his post, as a police officer from, the Barbados Police Force. A dead prisoner on his watch, was not a good situation. The inspector was also in trouble, as the supervisor of the shift, who were also station officer, because he was holding on for the Sergeant who were on their lunch break.

The unfortunate thing for those who were directly involved, there were surveillance cameras in the jail area, and there were also surveillance cameras in the cell area with a monitor on the desk of the jailer to monitor cell activities. As a result, the police and the other interesting authority, had at their disposal, the ability to look back on every second of the incident and the actions of those who were on duty, before the prisoner hang himself, how long he was hanging before he was discovered and what happened after the victim was discovered hanging in the cell.

The Casual response of the Jailer and the inspector when they discovered the man, hanging by the neck in the cell, did not look good for those guys. However, I am a natural emergency leader, I work and function best under pressure. I immediately took control of the situation. I said inspector where are the keys to the cell, open the cell now. As a result, the jailer quickly opened the cell, I rush into the cell and I tried to lift the man to take the weight off of his neck. Unfortunately, I was unable to life the man. I then call my partner over and I asked him to help me to lift the unconscious man, I shouted instruction to the inspector and the Jailer to untie the knot from the prisoner’s neck. Which they did.

After we have untied the hanging prisoner, the three Barbadian stood back and looked as I dealt with the prisoner. I made a quick check for a pulse but I did not detect pulse. Because we do not have the authority to declare death, I began to give the men chest pumps. This fellow was a heroin addict, who have tried to take his own life. Right there and then, I have decided, I was not going to try to resuscitate this fellow by giving him mouth to mouth.

The reason why I was not willing to give this man mouth to mouth resuscitation even if it was to save his life, was simple - I am a father and I was not going to risk contracting any of the Hepatitis, or any other disease to save the life of a man who did not want to live. I was not going to deprived myself of full interacting of my children, because I foolishly contracted some disease. I also wanted to get married, and I was not going to deprived myself of fully enjoying the pleasure of my wife because I wanted to save the life of an individual who did not want to live.

However, after a few chest pumps, I look around; and I came to a strange and stunning realization. I was alone with the unresponsive man with no pulse in the cell area of the Jail. I could not believe what was happening. So I left the man unattended for a while, just long enough to see what was happening. I went out into the reception area of the station, to see, the three Barbadian in a huddle having a discussion. I did not know what they were speaking about. However, I get the impression they were plotting, how to pin the death of the prisoner on me.

I then shouted, Inspector let us get the man to the hospital immediately, it was then the inspector instructed the Jailer to get the key to the big gate and to open the gate, as well as instructed my partner who were my senior to bring the car around in the yard. We load the unresponsive, unconscious man with no pulse into the back of the police vehicle. My partner was sitting in the driver’s seat. I said Inspector as soon as we leave you need to do two things.

First you need to call 911 and report an attempted suicide by hanging and have them dispatched an ambulance to the station, after you finished with that call, you need to call the King Edward Memorial Hospital (KEMH), and informed them to expect an unresponsive male, who had attempted to commit suicide by hanging. My instruction to the inspector was to help him and the Jailer to covering their asses; just in case the prisoners attempt to kill himself was successful. It will show that he actually took some type of actions on the prisoner’s behalf.

Secondly; If the emergency team at the King Edward Memorial Hospital, knew we were on our way to their facility, with an emergency and the nature of the emergency, they were required to deal with, they would be in a better position to facilitate our arrival to their facility and be better able, to render to the patient the best life saving medical care they were able to. Thus giving us a better change of the patient surviving the attempted suicide.

When we pulled into the hospital there were no one to meet us, the orderly had to be rushing to get a stretcher and the quick thinking by one of the orderly he opened the back door that give us immediate access to the emergency room. The quick intervention of the doctors they resuscitate the prisoner. I said, to the staff: "I though you would have been prepared for our arrival;" then I asked: "Didn’t anyone call you and tell you to expect us?" The emergency staff which was led by Vincentian Emergency Specialist and who was the doctor on Duty Roslyn Bascombe said not one call and informed us of the incoming emergency.

When I got back to the Hamilton Police Station, I asked the inspector if he called 911 as I told him to he said "no" then he continued: "after you all left, I did not see the sense in calling 911 and have them dispatched the ambulance to the station." I said and I guess you did not call the emergency room and told them to expect us either he said not he did not. It was then I told him: "those calls that you did not make, were meant to protect you in the event that prisoner die." I then turn to him and said, "if that prisoner had die, you would have been out on the streets; looking for a job today; all because of your lack of response to such a serious emergency."