Campbell

Another year of telling the stories of Jamaican men has elapsed. And it was indeed a pleasure, though, some of the contents were not so savoury.

I wish to present more stories next year, as The Gleaner continues to give a voice to the voiceless. I hope you have learned from the failures, challenges and successes that we have highlighted, thanks to the men who were not afraid to have their stories told.

The last instalment, 'Maas Roy and the dead colonel', will continue in the new year as Stanley Roy Archer has turned out to be quite a hero in Jeffrey Town, St Mary, where he was born, and where he returned after living in London, England, for more than 30 years. Today, we share with you some of this year's feedback. All the best for the new year, and thanks for reading His Story.

The Abdel Wright story

Hey Paul, I enjoyed the article you wrote about Abdel Wright - 'The Abdel Wright Story - Part 2'. Most of my childhood years, I spent with Abdel around. I was nine-years-old when I met him; he saw me playing with my "half-dead keyboard" (as he would call it) outside and approached me. It was then that our friendship began. He became a family friend and someone I looked up to as a big brother; he often introduced me as his little sister.

He is the reason for the passion I have for music and the talent I possess today. Sadly, I lost track of him, his second (prison) time around. I'm in college abroad now, and I've always wondered if he was still in prison or not. But now I know. I hope to see him again someday when I get home. This article has set my mind at ease. Thank you for being interested in his story, because it is indeed an interesting story.

Sincerely

A true friend of Abdel

In search of his roots

Hello, my name is Elizabeth Jordan. I am writing with regard to my fiancé. He is in the United States Navy. He has turned out to be a great man ... (but) there is still one thing that bothers him; and that is he would really want to know more about his father. He was born in St Andrew, Jamaica. His name is Norval Campbell and his father was Noel Belfour Campbell.

Being in the navy, you never know when you will be getting deployed, so he is longing to know more about him. As far as he knows, he died between 1987 and '89, but he's not sure what to believe. If you can please write me with any info or help in any way, it would be greatly appreciated.

Errol Samuel's fascinating life

Dear Mr Williams:

I have read the second part of your story about living in England, and it is so funny. I have been through the same thing. We West Indians are accustomed to water every day before we go to school, so it was really hard when I could not have a bath every day. I hated going to the public bath. It was not healthy.

I lived three places where there was no bath in the house and that really got to me. The many times I cried to know I left my home and came here and had to bathe only on weekends. However, I stuck it out because my mother refused to let me go back to Bermuda.

Water was scarce there too, as you had to buy it, but every day I used to have a bath before going to school and at nights before going to bed. What used to hurt me is, before I can soap up properly, the attendant would be shouting, "Hurry up gentlemen". That really used to get to me.

I can remember one day, I was given a dose of Epsom salt. It made me go to the toilet, which was about half a mile down the backyard. I dirtied myself before I got there, so I had to spend the rest of the day at the outhouse. Looking back at it now, I can see the funny side of it, but none of us would have believed that Britain would have been the way it was in those days.

An old Englishman told me he used to go to the fields to collect droppings from cattle to put into the fire to keep the house warm. Well, thank God those days have passed and gone. Every house has central heating now, and the country has improved quite a lot.

One white lady was speaking to me. She told me she travelled the world. She had been to Africa, yet she asked me if it was true that we black people have tails. I told her "yes" and she asked me to show her mine. Well, I have never seen a white woman run so fast! Not even Bolt would have caught up with her when I showed her my tail! Bye for now, have a nice day.

Suddenly, he found his father

Dear Mr Williams:

I write to congratulate you for having highlighted this heart-rending story, for more reasons than one. It is most fitting because our young people, especially the boys, are so disenchanted and are lacking positive role models. As someone who mentors young men, I see the challenges they face growing up without a father figure; the mothers are overstretched to meet their daily needs, for while they try they cannot adequately play the roles of both parents.

I am pleased to see that young Ricardo Campbell did not develop bitterness or hatred towards his father ... also, that along his journey he did not become negative despite the many challenges he had faced.

What I do not understand is why his father was not more repentant for his actions? This is a subject that I think you should continue to highlight, as stories like these can serve as positive influences to our young men in the society.

Yours truly,

Sunshine Auto Parts

paul.williams@gleanerjm.com