Desmond Henry TREASURE BEACH:
A FAMILY gathering in appreciation of the life and work of Canon Weeville Gordon was held a few days ago in Kingston. No, he has not passed on but is retiring after over 50 years of dedicated service in the Anglican Ministry. I was away and could not attend, but since returning, have got a sense of what took place.
Speaker after speaker, I am told, spoke in near awe-like reverence of how this almost comprehensively rural man, along with his beautiful wife Ellonia, transformed and lifted supreme levels of appreciation for the Anglican church, its ministry and all that it stands for.
I was just a little boy in first class at Pedro Plains elementary school when Weeville graduated from 6th class, and was in between periods of making up his mind whether to serve as a pupil teacher or move onto further studies, with a view to entering the ministry. It was at a time when the current St. Peter's Church in Pedro Plains was being rebuilt by that giant, the late Rev. Kitson Walters, and under whose guidance and influence we all saw signs of the potential of Canon Gordon.
To us, young and wistful, it all seemed so natural. Weeville was tall, austere, commanding and striking. His tone and manner invited imitation, and we all wondered jokingly among ourselves how come he even got such a name that automatically links him with that universal enemy of the forming community the common weevil. Their names were spelt differently alright, but in my class we used to speak loudly about "Weeville the evil" and if we were ever challenged, would explain it away as referring to the bug and not the person. As unusual as his name was, however, it was just part of a community of names in which he grew up, some with almost tongue-twisting characteristics. His hometown community was the centre of many Gordons and was commonly referred to as Gordon Town. The unusual names I remember included such gems as Vianza, Nerissa, Miss Tissley and Uncle Poon. So the slipping in of a Weeville, was no big thing.
In those days of childhood, the church, school and farm were the centres of influence and activity outside the house. Canon Gordon, we all noticed, was always engaged in practice preaching or some other form of ecclesiastic behaviour in both church and Sunday School. I was told he even admitted at the dinner, to practice preaching on his mom's goats in the pastures. Good for him, I just hope it was equally good for the goats. He was not much into the district's regular moonlight nights, Seymour-grass story-telling and corn-shelling practices. We all did notice, however, the beginning of a romantic blushing sequence between him and one of the district's beautiful belles, Ellonia Blair. We all concluded well in advance that it would end the way it did, since there was a confirmed report that they were seen holding hands during a midday journey together. Proof positive, that marriage was on the way.
The congregation of St. Matthews in Allman Town can hardly conceive of anyone else occupying the pews and rectory as Canon Gordon has done for nearly 40 years. To a lesser extent this also applies to Little London in Westmoreland, where he also served with love and reverence for quite some time. His sincerity, sense of humour and Christian virtues have a way of enfolding you when he's around. He is everybody's parson.
It seemed quite natural therefore, that over time he would become Kingston's senior Justice of the Peace, one of the Anglican church's leading Canons and Jamaican's occasional Deputy Governor- General. He has fulfilled all these duties with exemplary conduct, and so many in this rural district of South St. Elizabeth he is a beloved robe model. He and his entire family (Ellonia, Peter, Angela, Flavia) have brought immense pride and honour to a district known more for its farms, rather than for its pews. Canon Gordon represents the ultimate country boy who showed that can be done. A suitable national honour would seem most appropriate.
And Canon, just in case you might decide to spend some of your retirement here in the country, you should be relieved to know that science has perfected a permanent remedy to your nemesis, the farm weevil. The possibility therefore, of an unfriendly mix-up is most unlikely. God bless you.
THE BOTTOM LINE: When next you enjoy a delicious juicy watermelon, think of the farmers of South St. Elizabeth.
Desmond Henry is a marketing strategist based in Treasure Beach, St. Elizabeth.
