The following eulogy was delivered by Mr. Quincy Gumbs at the National Funeral for his brother, the late Gifford Richardson on Wednesday at St. Augustine’s Anglican Church.
In the last fifteen months we have done this routine five times as a family and the pain is the same, the aching void and loss of a family member is so deep that in each one we have lost pieces of ourselves in their passing. On the 22nd day of March 2013, we said goodbye to the last of last of my mother’s siblings in Slough, England and today we are saying goodbye to her second son and the first of her children to depart this life.
Gifford Lionel Richardson came into this world on June 19, 1946, the second son of Jane and Jimmy Richardson. His father died in Curacao before he was four years old and his sons Ken, Gifford and Harris never knew him. It was immediately apparent that Gifford had a mind of his own. He was a true second child. He was more playful than his older brother Ken, had more friends, did more spear fishing, played more marbles, set more traps and got more beatings. He belonged to the group of the first five; Ken, Gifford, Charles and Harris, and our older cousin Austin Hodge. Of the five, Gifford was the neighbourhood boy. Like all the boys of his day, life was very predictable; he attended the old East End Primary School, St Augustine’s Anglican Church, chopped ground, attended to animals, picked wood and carried water.
As soon as that generation of young men were old enough they had to get on board Zilphus Fleming’s boat, The Rose Millicent, which was their gateway to the world. This was usually a stop gap measure until they found a country to settle in and for Gifford this was St Thomas United States Virgin Islands where he and all the young people of this age, from East End settled in Hospital Ground. They worked hard, saved and sent money back home to their parents to help with the younger siblings. They also saved and bought land in Anguilla to help to strengthen the Anguillian economy with remittances which were started by the generation before them. Gifford though belonged to a small group which limed very hard and paid no attention to the things of this world. On the wall in Hospital Ground where the Anguillians gathered each evening after work, Gifford was the official fish sampler. If they were afraid that the fish would poison they tried it out on Gifford until one day he kept his poisoning secretly and allowed everyone else to eat the fish and get poisoned.
Job wise, Gifford was one of the most fortunate of the Anguillan lot. He became an Interior Finisher – tiling, hanging sealing and installing and finishing sheet rock in these trades, he was truly a professional. He left his mark in some of the most prestigious buildings throughout the Virgin Islands, and in Anguilla on the Fairplay Mall, Malliouhana Hotel Spa, NBA building, The Edison Hughes Library and most of the interior work at Royale Caribbean Resort though he benefitted very little from the trade. If you set up a popularity contest between Gifford and his siblings he would win it hands down as Mr Nice Boy. He used his money to help everybody except himself; some he partied, some he gambled, some he was never paid but this was Gifford, it did not matter. My mother loved him profusely; he was the apple of her eye. She talked to him, she scolded him, she cried over him, yet she loved him.
Gifford lived life Gifford’s way. Gifford, like all the young men of his era were at his prime during the Anguillian Revolution and gave of his money and service to the Homeland in the hour of greatest need.
The story is told of how a plot was hatched to kidnap Mr Tony Lee from Sir Emile Gumbs’ house in Sandy Ground. Gifford was put in charge of going up stairs capturing the British Commissioner and getting him to the waiting vehicle down stairs. From hind sight, I don’t think the plan could work because of the closeness of the British warships to the shore and their helicopter’s assets, but my brother encountered resistance going up the stairs and begun using his knife wounding a few before the plan was called off. He was put in a waiting car, and whisked to the airport where a plane was waiting at the end of Wallblake to fly him to the safety of the U S Virgin Islands where he went into self imposed exile.
Later that same year, as Christmas drew near the punishment of exile was too much for him to bear so he got on a plane piloted by Mr Kenneth Fleming and flew to Anguilla not manifested as a passenger. He stayed on the plane parked on the ramp while Blondell Rodgiers made several visits pretending to take documents to and from the plane. The real purpose was for her to open the door for him to get air. Seeing Anguilla again was enough for him because his love for the homeland flowed through his veins. Gifford did not return to Anguilla for the remainder of the British occupation. My mother cried many an August and Christmas season when her son could not come home, but for her and the family his cause was a noble cause, because she believed in and taught her children to put country above self. Upon his return after the British departure Gifford never missed an opportunity to support a political party and vote in an election while he was able, even if it meant breaking with the rest of the family.
Gifford tried settling down and marrying after age 40. I was so glad that I paid for his suit but unfortunately it never worked. His sons Cheyan, Alexis and Kareen went through their share of challenges because he was never there for them, but his daughter Alicia hung on to him for dear life he could not cause her to let him go and she refused to give up to the time of his death. We believe that the only reason she did not see him die was because he did not want her to fight off death like she fought off the doctors.
He came home in 1993 to help me with the Fairplay Complex and stayed even after its completion and was there when I started the Royale Caribbean Resort Project.
In a family where we were taught to disagree and not be disagreeable, we took up the role of our mother with the life of Gifford after her death. We had to accept the fact that he lived life his way. It was while working at Royale Caribbean in May 2003 that he experienced his first defeat with ill health; where he lost one of his legs to diabetes. His condition then was so severe that the Anaesthetist was reluctant to administer anaesthesia for his surgery. My response was – “If you don’t, this man will die and if you do, he might live, so I will take full responsibility for the risk”. Gifford had a will of steel and the highest threshold for pain. He would have none of this death story. He enjoyed life too much. The first thing he shouted after surgery, “Quincy, I ain’t going nowhere leave you!”
Following his amputation, he stayed in Anguilla until 2006 while his health was steadily declining. Shortly after, Alicia took her dad to St. Thomas and along with Bria her daughter; they became “three peas in a pod”. Alicia’s decision to leave California and return to the Virgin Islands and accept responsibility for her father was a gift from God, no one else could do it like Bria and herself. She forgave her father, and she showered upon him the love reserved for the ‘Best Father in the World’. A year ago she battled with the doctors and the hospital and refused to allow the amputation of his other leg because she was convinced that was not his problem. Alicia was perfectly right. While the doctors were concentrating on his diabetics there was a cancer growing in his colon.
Following his cancer surgery, once again his will of steel and his love for living came through for him. Gifford came back to play dominoes even though he was frail. Time would fail me to describe the quality of care Gifford received from Alicia and Bria and his brother Belto.
When the Government of Anguilla made the decision to honour him in the role of the Anguilla Revolution the ailing man of steel said, “I will come and get it myself.”
Alicia obliged in a near impossible way by allowing her ailing father to travel to Anguilla in order to receive this great national honour. This great patriot armed with his badge of honour had to touch The Rock one more time. On this occasion he said, “If Ï die, bury me in Anguilla!”. He surveyed much of the country as he could and LIAT flew him away for the last time.
On the 24th of February 2013, my wife and I observed first hand the difficulty involved in caring for him and the perfect condition in which he was kept. My brother had a remarkable improvement in his condition since he was at my home when he was honoured for his role in the Anguilla Revolution on May 30th, 2012 a year ago, or so I thought. As I was about to say goodbye, Alicia’s cell phone rang and the smile on her face changed to a look of horror. Her father had suffered another setback; his blood count was dangerously low. The battle with the BIG C had once again flared up in his body and this time Gifford’s fighting spirit quietly succumbed to the inevitable. He made sure there was no Alicia, no Bria, no Belto, he was tired and they would prolong his fight. He quietly slipped away on Easter morning.
How could death be so cruel to Bria and Alicia and how dare it interrupt the joy of our Easter morning with the dreaded news? But this was Gifford “he did it his way remember?” In a family of twelve (12) siblings, now, one is missing, but there will always be fond memories because from a child he was always the life of the party, the evil in the room and the one who could get you out of a spot. His nieces and nephews will miss the fact that uncle Giffee is no longer there to charm them with his smile; his grandchildren will not be spoiled anymore.
Thank you Alicia, Bria, Belto and Brandon. You’ve done your best. It was all you could do.
Giffee, the strife is over, the battle’s done,
Now is the Victors Triumph won,
Now let the song of Praise Begun
Alleluia
The Powers of Death have done their worst,
But Christ their Legions has disperse,
Let shouts of Joy outburst,
Alleluia.
On Easter morning, yes, on Easter morning my brother, your victory was won!
ALLELUIA! ALLELUIA!
(Published without editing by The Anguillian newspaper.)
