Newsletter
for alumni of The Abbey School, Mt. St. Benedict, Trinidad and Tobago, W.I.
Caracas, 28 September 2013 No. 621
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Dear
Friends,
Sorry to
announce Dion Fakoory’s death, may he rest in peace.
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An idea
for the monks, maybe they take it up??
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Please
note: you may have missed some of the circulars, if you have not received one
every week, do not hesitate to ask for the missing number from: idmitch@anguillanet.com, or download them for
yourself from: http://abbeyschoolmtstbenedict2013circulars.blogspot.com/,
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Memories of uncle George
MD and DAVID E
BRATT | 10:32 pm
Published: December 15th, 2008
Perhaps the gallery in Scott Bushe Street in Cobeau Town, a
lovely place, high above the street and looking over a small triangular-shaped
park where, during the rainy season, fireflies came out to play and regularly
lit up the big tree in one corner of the park is the first.
The memory I have is of December nights when I was allowed to
stay up with the grownups and he and my aunt and other members of my family
would sit down in the Morris chairs in the dimly lit gallery, talk quietly, smoke
and enjoy the Christmas breezes flowing down from the twinkling lights of
Laventille, the flutter of the mango leaves next door and the occasional
“put-put” of an old car travelling west on Wrightson Road.
If we were lucky then, the sounds of a carolling group would be
heard coming from Duke Street and soon they would be crowded around our front
gate, the gate where I would later spend hours swinging until it creaked in
vain, and the night would be filled with the sweet sounds of traditional carols—parang
was yet to be discovered in Port-of-Spain—and often I would fall off to sleep,
in the gallery, in my mother’s lap, with their voices in my ear.
Friday evenings were special to us because that was when he had
to drive to far-off Diego Martin—the Valley was considered country in those
days—to the Scott farm, to pay the labourers. He got permission from my mother
to take me, so every Friday he would pass around, at 4.15 on the dot—he was a
meticulous man—to pick me up and we would drive off to the valley. That would
take almost an hour, so small was the car and so winding the road, until we
arrived, almost in darkness, to where the horses were kept.
My favourite was one called Just in Time because his owner had
arrived just in time to see him born and that story always got us laughing
together. Afterwards the drive back home might take us through St James and in
my blurry memory there used to be a cinema, Rialto, around where the mall at
the eastern end of St James now is, and opposite, a roti shop and if he was in
a specially good mood we would stop there to buy roti for my aunt and my
mother.
But I am not sure if this did happen on our trips or whether it
is just the dream of a small boy, one memory blending into another the way
guava shells blend into cream cheese to make a new and better taste. The rock
cake incident happened about this same time and the story must be true because
it has been told and retold at family reunions.
Apparently there was an excursion to Carenage for a swim but
although the rum was not left behind, and rum was what you drank in those days,
someone forgot to take along food for a small boy.
At about four in the afternoon, in desperation, a parlour was
found and in the dust-encrusted window-panelled display at the front, some
hard, old, tasteless rock cake was found and bought, a penny a cake.
How does it taste? I was asked. “Nice!” was the emphatic reply
and the lime dissolved into laughter. He got me into Tranquillity and I was
most upset. I was attending Miss Alemani’s of lower Sackville Street fame. She,
Eric Williams and Merry Makers are perhaps the best known citizens of that
street.
School was to start some days after the public ones and that
fateful morning I was downstairs under the house in my pajamas pitching marbles
with the boy from next door when he suddenly appeared, cheerful as always, to
tell my mother that he had got me into Tranquillity, a grand thing at that
time, and off we had to go, me in tears, to Victoria Avenue where I learned to
suck tamarind-daisin, “pelt calpet” and run with the others to form a ring and
shout “fight, fight” at the struggling boys on the ground.
There are so many other memories. He built the altar for my First
Communion and decorated it with ferns and then did the same thing for my
sisters and for his children and grands when they finally came. He was there
for me when my parents, unjustly I thought, put me into the Abbey School at
Mount St Benedict and came up to visit me after my first week there, bringing
buns, Mars chocolate and salt prunes because he knew those were my favourite
snacks.
Twice a term I would travel to Port-of-Spain to the place where
he worked for his entire life, the Scott business on Independence Square, to be
taken home for the weekend and then driven back up to Mount, quiet and sad, on
the Sundays, and he would always say to me, “Bear with this, no one can take a
good education away from you.”
But the very best memory was my first J’Ouvert with him. The year
was 1958 and the tune was Pay as You Earn and I have a crisp memory of turning
around in the middle of a band in Queen Street at about seven in the morning,
delirious with delight at being in the midst of a happy group of shuffling
adults as the sun came up over the hills, and seeing him watching me and
smiling. He was my Uncle George and he is gone now.
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Date: Sat, 28 Sep 2013 12:47:47 -0400
Subject: Re: FW: [Limers] Old T&T pics/
The Gathering Storm.
From: frharold12@gmail.com
Hi friends,
I, unfortunately, was unable to attend Dion Fakoory's Funeral
Mass at St. Theresa's in Woodbrook yesterday, but as I promised yesterday, I
drove to MSB this morning and prayed for Dion as I drove around our dear Abbey
School.
Later I went into the Monastic enclosure and greeted Fr. Cuthbert
and Max de Comarmond who both returned from Fr. Cutty's visit to Holland.
Fr. Christopher told me that Fr. Cutty stayed in hotels that were
reasonably near to his relatives who no longer live in their homes but in
Nursing Homes, due to their age and/or disabilities.
He looks so frail now.
As I was conversing with Bro. Paschal, a phone call came in
indicating that Fr. Odo was ready to be discharged from the hospital where he
had received successful surgery and ready to return to the Monastery.
A great Birthday gift for Fr. Odo, today on his Birthday.
Today is also the 16th Anniversary of Fr. Ildefons Schroots'
death.
The monks were so warm to welcome be and encouraged me to return
for a few days; I assured them I will definitely do this.
Bro. Paschal who was my Novice master during my 6 years at MSB,
reminded me, " once a monk, always a monk".
True, I said, I can never give up my Monastic formation, it's in
my blood and spiritual DNA.
I followed a Mass for Dion at Living Water yesterday.
God bless you all and "Pax in virtute"
Fr. Harold
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From: amickiew@att.net
Date: Sat, 28 Sep 2013 15:17:59 -0500
Bless you, Father Harold,
For your prayers and remembrance of Dion.
I slightly remember him as he was several years behind me.
May God bless his soul and also pour His love on his
family.
Will be interested in hearing/reading about your perspectives
about the social, economic and political state of our beloved Trinidad.
Everything one seems to read points to instability, crime and all
the other evil things that mankind turns to in desperation, hunger and
need,
Have a safe visit and good return,
George
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FROM Glen
Mckoy
Gracias, Mi Hermano,
Freddy,
We must always remember, those special moments we hold in our
hearts, as we share this sadness, as a class mate is gone before
us.
We love you guy, we must hold on for the ones they left behind.
Keep in touch with Freddy, for those who were there, to share is
to care, blood, sweat & tears.
God Blessed - The Abbey School...
Adios, Glen McKoy.
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From: andresfreytez@hotmail.com
Date: Thu, 26 Sep 2013 12:00:37 -0400
Gosh Dion ...
You went away before we could meet again back in Trinidad...and
so we had agreed two years ago....
Friend and Brother please wait for all of us in heaven where we
will then reunite again... you were part of our lives...
You joked : " Freddy stop making that funny noise when we´in
class"....I still remember your telling me to behave !!
You gave me recipes to make nice curry and tamarind balls...
Only us Old Boys know the sadness that your departure leaves in
us all!!
God bless you and gives strength to your family!!!
Peace to your soul!!
Sad, sad, sad!!
Andres (Freddy)
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From: mckoy43glen@hotmail.com
Date: Thu, 26 Sep 2013 08:44:35 +0000
Dear Nigel & Pud,
So sorry to read this news.
He did send me emails every now and then.
May God Bless our brother Dion, may he rest in peace, Amen.
Our hearts are with his family in our prayers.
Glen.
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From: nigelboos@eagles-wings.ca
Date: Wed, 25 Sep 2013 07:14:59 -0400
Pud,
I'm so sorry to hear that Dion has died.
I feel as if I've lost a friend I never knew.
He seems to have been such a nice guy.
Please accept my sincere sympathy at his loss, and please extend
my condolences to his family.
By copy of this note, I am advising by bcc the Old Boys of MSB
who would have known Dion while he was a student at MSB.
Nigel
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On 2013-09-24, at 9:53 PM, <drgal@laquisholdings.com> <drgal@laquisholdings.com> wrote:
Nigel,
Dion Fakoory passed peacefully this am.
May his soul spend eternity with Jesus and rest in peace.
pud
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Ladislao Kertesz at kertesz11@yahoo.com,
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Photos:
MSBAP12MI6512, Mount Inside
27257LK13FB, Dion Fakoory last year.
13LK7154NSMGRP, Norman Smith´s reunion in
Miami
05DF0001DFAFAM, an old photo with Dion
looking good
