I Was Born just two years after the great earthquake of 1907, which devastated much of Jamaica and killed a vast multitude of its citizens. As a child, I grew up in a farming village called Camberwell in the parish of St. Mary, the second of eight children. The farms were just tiny plots, far too small for a family to make a living. My parents had to do stone breaking and, when it was available, line up for day’s work on the big banana plantations down on the plain.
In the village, besides the farms, there were a few other buildings, including a school and several churches. The churches would compete all the time for members. The head teacher was the only educated person in the whole area. The pastors, policemen, and ordinary people were all illiterate. I was not able to go to school every day, because I had to work on the farm at a very early age. We used slates to write on. I tried hard in my reading lessons, which was useful later on when it came to learning the truth. I had to go to church regularly. I don’t remember now what the church was called, but like all the churches in the area, the services consisted only of redemption songs all sung at the top of our voices, clapping and stomping, a long sermon with the pastor shouting and screaming at us young people to stop flirting and fornicating, followed by testimonies from us pretending that the blood of Christ had cured us from those terrible sins. I remember giving a Holy Ghost testimony at the age of ten that the blood had cured me from the sin of adultery. It was all godliness without the power thereof.
I was sent by my family to seek my fortune in the big city of Kingston. When I got there, the city was still being rebuilt. Before the disaster, Kingston had been built of bricks. Rebuilding was mostly in a material called nog which had sturdy wooden framing. By 1922, Kingston was a city of nog buildings with roofs made of shingles, a lot safer than the earlier brick construction. I found it was easy to get a job in construction and I became a skilled carpenter and builder.
I was 46 years of age when a very small thing totally changed the lives of Doris and myself. At that time I saw a little notice in the Gleaner offering a free book called Preaching the Truth. I was intrigued. I wrote for the book to an address in Georgetown, Guyana. In a short time, I received the book, and also letters from two ladies called Spence and Odle. These letters were so encouraging, and the little book was an eye-opener. In fact, Doris and I read it so many times that I could almost say it by heart. The most compelling thing about the story in the book was that the people took their religion seriously. Up to that time, I had thought of religion as only some kind of entertainment, having no real importance in daily life.
One day a young white man came to our home and introduced himself as Alan. I was amazed because he came on foot into our poor neighbourhood and not in a taxi or a car. He said that he had received our address from the same Spence who had written to us. He began to visit us regularly, and then told us about a series of Bible lectures in Kingston to be given by a visiting speaker from Britain. Those lectures by Harry Whittaker finally set us firmly on the way of life. The strange part to me was that although the Bible teaching was so clear, none of the big churches seemed to want to teach it. In fact, The Star newspaper even had a big headline warning people against Harry and his Bible lectures. It seemed so odd that this funny little group meeting in an old school should know more about the Bible than anyone else, but we realised that we had to do something about it. I was baptised on the 27 October 1956, a few weeks after Harry had left Jamaica. Doris followed me through the water soon after.
Although we were only a small group then, we had many activities. I used to help with meetings in the Slipe Pen Hospital, where eventually we started a branch ecclesia. We decided to start a Sunday school and also a Bible study class in our own yard at Olympic Way, and both of those went on for years, yielding several baptisms. For a time our school was much bigger than the one held in the meeting hall.
I must say that because of my faith, I got a lot of ridicule and scorn from other men, especially from neighbors and friends, and even some of my own relatives. This was very hard to bear, as I wasn’t very good at explaining to these people the special things about my faith, and often they would get the better of the argument. The Muslims gave me the hardest time, as they are so cock sure of themselves and deride everything you try to say in defense.
It was a joyful day for us both when our youngest son James was baptised. But right now he needs the fire of God to inspire him more.
What shall I say more? Not all Christadelphians turned out to be the wonderful people I thought they would be. Is it that God puts His truth into earthen vessels so that people will worship Him and not us? We thought that we would get much more support for the work we tried to do down in Olympic Gardens. It has been a long hard fight of faith, with so little to show for it. But the Bible says that only he or she who endures to the end shall be saved, and that’s where I will leave it for now.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One