Southampton Seventh-day Adventist Church
Sunday, February 16, 2025 at 1:00pm
Officiating - Pastor Damon Hendrickson and Pastor Kenneth Manders
Musical Support - Owen Simons
Interment - St. Anne’s Church Cemetery
PROCESSIONAL AND MUSICAL SELECTION
Clergy & Family / Lloyd Holder
OPENING PRAYER
Pastor Kenneth Manders
WORDS OF COMFORT
Pastor Kenneth Manders
MUSICAL SELECTION
Dwayne Foster
SCRIPTURE READING
Andalyn Swan, Juanita Swan, Karyn Hodgson
MUSICAL SELECTION
Ebony Butterfield
TRIBUTE
Sherman Swan
MUSICAL SELECTION
Daniel Hill
TRIBUTES
Nicole Simons
MUSICAL SELECTION
Dwayne Foster
OBITUARY
Dr. Lois Tucker
VIDEO TRIBUTE
Verona Darrell
MUSICAL SELECTION
Chelsea McNorton
EULOGY
Pastor Damon Hendrickson
MUSICAL SELECTION
Daniel Hill & Lloyd Holder
BENEDICTION
Marcus Tucker
RECESSIONAL
Clergy & Family
Frederick Byron Swan
February
14, 1937 – February 2, 2025
In a word, an obituary is supposed to give you a verbal snapshot of the person we are writing about. Therefore, we tell you bits of information like date and place of birth, occupation, education, and family data and then, if we’re lucky, we’ll hear a few memorable moments wrapped in chuckles and humor.
We want to do something different for Fred because he was different. He was not your normal ceremonial guy! So, let’s get on with the banal protocols and move on to paint a picture of the real Fred.
One way to cover the ordinary details is through a quiz. How much did you really know about Fred? Let’s see.
1) True or False? Fred was a native of Bermuda, born in Hamilton Parish? False. That is Aunt Shirley. Fred was a Southampton boy.
2) True or False? Fred was one of three children born to Dolly and Charles Swan on February 14, 1937. True. Fred has one sister, Edie, and one brother, Snowy who is predeceased.
3) True or False? Fred and Shirley had four children - two boys and two girls. False. If you said true, you know something the rest of us don’t know. As far as we know, he had four boys - Fred Jr., Eudell, Craig, and Dexter. Let’s not start any scandal when he’s not here to give his side of the story.
4) True or False? Fred was an accountant by trade. False. He was a highly skilled mason. Sherman Swan can attest to this. Also, he has his home on Horseshoe Road as a testament to his skills.
5) True or False? In his free time, he amused himself for hours skiing the slopes of Vale, Colorado. False. That was Eudell and Fred Jr., Fred Sr.’s favorite pastimes were fishing and golf.
6) True or False? Fred had an avid interest in music. True. He loved guitar music especially, with artists like Chet Atkins being among his favorites.
7) True or False? Fred was a stickler for time, schedules, and organization. True. He believed in keeping time and having his meals served on time, like clockwork. And everything he was involved in had to be well organized and well-structured.
OK. I think that about covers the basic information about Fred. What paints the real picture of Fred, however, is the memories. Join me on a walk down Memory Lane
. Our memories of Fred define him as a colorful character. When he was courting, there was no mountain high enough, no valley low enough to keep him from Shirley? He told us that on Saturday evenings he, along with Johnny Darrell and Tall Bill, would jump on their Triumphs and head down the country. They each had their eye on a country girlShirley, Vesey, and Nettie. Fred was determined that Shirley would be moving to Southampton.
As a father, Fred set a high standard for his children. He did everything in his power to see that they excelled. Fred would buy Junior a puzzle every week for him to solve. This was his way of teaching without lecturing - his way of encouraging him to think critically and independently. As a result of this, he expected stellar performance. Craig will confirm this. He recalls the time he showed his dad an A paper from school. In the midst of his receiving praise, Eudell came along and showed his dad a paper with a higher percentage. Well, this threw shade on Craig’s A. Fred’s praise turned into a raising of the bar. He wanted them to go for the gold. They were Swans! They could not be satisfied with just an A. So, you will easily understand why Fred was somewhat incensed when one of his friends asked Craig if he was going to follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a mason. Are you kidding? No way. He wanted more for his boys than that.
Fred’s next job could have been a teacher. He was always ready to give advice and tell someone how to do something. When Dexter was in college building his house, he tried to drop the Pythagoras theorem on his dad. Fred told him he was crazy and made off on him for how he had laid out all the brick in the tank. However, when Dexter got him to do the measurements, Fred had to admit that Dexter was right. He did, however, tell him to bring the house forward 15 feet to make it all work.
Although Fred was a hard worker, he still found time for fun. In fact, from his childhood days, he was always up for fun. Along with Edie and Snowy, he spent a lot of time playing in the tunnels at Turtle Hill. As an adult, fishing was his #1 passion. He was very confident on this subject. Once the crew got together - Chick Bean, Mr. Nusum, and young Dexter, they were ready. Once Chick said, “it’s a go,” they were off. In fact, one time when they were about to go fishing, Chick discovered that someone had stolen the prop off his boat. No worries. Fred was the authority on this one. He decided that they would still go, even if he had to tow Chick and Nusum out to the fishing spot.
Swimming was also a favorite. On a regular basis, Fred would meet up with the Sinky Bay Crew and his friends in the Horseshoe Bay neighborhood for a swim. They would go to Whaler Inn to jump off the rocks into the Blue Hole and then make the swim from Whaler Inn to Cross Bay. Water was always a big part of his life.
When his playtime wasn’t spent on or in the water, you could catch him on the golf course at Port Royal. Apart from playing a round of golf himself, he had good advice for anyone who would listen. He could often be seen on the range, demonstrating how a good golf swing should look after impact with the ball. He would point to his right foot which was perched in photo-finish style to ensure that you got the correct stance.
Fred was one of the most generous people you could find. Although he told Dexter that money didn’t grow on trees, Eudell says that whatever he wanted, his dad found a way to get. In fact, Dexter recalls that Eudell took frequent trips to New York to visit Aunt Alice.
Fred’s generosity was also demonstrated through his building skills. Fred and his workmates established a camaraderie that manifested itself as a closely-knit social union. When they were building their houses, they would have work rallies that they would do in shifts. Fred would be the first one on site and would not limit himself to his shift alone. He was the one who would always push to get the job done. All of this he did for free.
Fred also did not suffer fools gladly. Sherman recalls that once, on the job, when a guy showed up during lunch while they were eating, Fred took notice. When the guy left Fred announced his conclusions: That guy came just to eat. He didn’t lay one block. No, no, we don’t need him around.
Also, if he were involved in a conversation and he felt that the participants were starting to talk nonsense, you could expect Fred to react. When you hear Fred break out with the Lord’s prayer, you would know somebody has gone off the beaten path. Above the din of the conversation he would say, “Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. . . .” Alternately, if he didn’t say the Lord’s Prayer, he had another reaction: he would grimace and give a colorful hand gesture. ***** That meant shut up. Enough! He didn’t want to hear any more.
From a comprehensive perspective, it is easy to see that Fred was one who believed in taking care of business. And his family was his business. Shirley was his #1. Whatever she wanted, she got! He made sure that his boys were well taken care of through his counsel and his provisions. He loved his grandchildren, Cani and Aminata. In addition, his code of responsibility included his mother. When he built his home, he was intentional in providing a space for Ma (Aunt Dolly), bringing to a realization the sentiment expressed by his home’s name, “My Quest.” His quest was to provide in the best way possible for his family.
This stream of memories would be incomplete were we not to mention that Fred also took care of himself. He worked hard. He played hard. He believed in attending to his health through outdoor physical activities. He believed in eating well - on time. And he believed that his body needed rest, so he would retire early.
Unbeknownst to many, Fred was also interested in taking care of some other business. He had shared with us that he was ready to get baptized. Now, before we hasten to any conclusions, remember that this is still Fred we are talking about. He did not want any public display. He wanted a private affair - in the ocean. He was working on a plan. Therefore, before he closed his eyes in “sleep,” he did one more thing to take care of business. As Deborah and Lois visited him in the hospital, he was not talking or cracking jokes.
However, he let them know that he was fully aware of their presence. Deborah said, “Uncle Fred, Lois is here.” He responded, “Lois.” When she asked him if he wanted Lois to sing for him, he shook his head “no.” (So be it.) Before leaving, they prayed with him. During their prayer they gave him the opportunity to declare that he wanted Jesus. Lois said, “Uncle Fred, do you love Jesus, and do you want Him to be your personal Saviour?” He nodded his head in the affirmative. They continued their prayer with the confidence that he had given his life to Jesus. That’s taking care of business!
The account of Fred’s life is a success story. He was a man of humble origins with big dreams and aspirations. Along with his wife Shirley, he raised four boys who honored him with their success and blessed him with two grandchildren. As a highly skilled mason, he faithfully took care of his family and shared his talent in helping many others. Thus, he accumulated along the way a plethora of loved ones and friends who were enriched by his contributions to their lives. Indulge me with one last quiz question: True or False? Fred created a positive legacy of his life. True. Thank you, God, for the moments he shared with us.
Though the warm memories may comfort us, many loved ones and friends will feel the void created by his passing: his wife, Shirley; four sons: Frederick, Jr. (Andalyn), Eudell (Georgia), Craig (Juanita), and Dexter (Karyn); his grandchildren: Cani Swan and Aminata Ming; his sister, Edie; and many relatives and friends, too numerous to mention. Fred is predeceased by his parents, Dolly and Charles Swan; and his brother Stanley “Snowy” (Marion).
A Tribute to My Cherished Husband Fred
With our union spanning 67 years, how do I even begin to say goodbye? Fred, from the moment I met you, I knew my life was not going to be the same. God, in His wisdom, knew exactly who I needed in my life, for life. He brought you all the way from Southampton to my home in Hamilton Parish. Courtship was a trip and from the day we married, you became my truest companion and my safe place.
We produced the greatest gifts of our lives - our four beautiful sons of which we are truly proud; Fred Jr., Eudell, Craig, and Dexter - and you made sure our home was always funfilled with love, laughter, and a firm hand. You created a life for me that I could cherish, a life where I felt safe, loved, and respected; reassuring us that I never had to worry that we weren’t going to be cared for. You made it so I could be your loving wife, homemaker and gave me the opportunity to dedicate my days to raising our boys. We were able to create a warm and welcoming home and embrace the joy of family and friends.
Fred, you never stopped supporting us; you were an excellent provider, but more than that, you were a strong man of integrity, love, and commitment. Our house was not just a home - it was our sanctuary, a place where love lived and where fun memories were made. You allowed me to flourish in the role that God had set before me, and for 67 wonderful years, I have thanked Him every day for the gift of you.
In your final years, my love for and loyalty to you only grew stronger. It was my honor to care for you and support your needs, to help you in whatever way I could, just as you had spent a lifetime doing for me. Even as your health declined, you never let it take away your spirit. You took it all in stride, as you always did, with humor, strength, and love. You continued to pour your heart into our family.
We aged beautifully together! and yes - we were our family’s power couple! Now I must say goodbye.
This house is not going to be the same without you, Fred. The silence and the absence of your calls from the bedroom will be noticed. However, I will hold on to the beautiful memories, the love we shared, and the countless moments of joy and camaraderie that defined our life together…
My dear Fred, my forever love, the father of our sons, I miss you already and beyond words. But I take comfort in the promises of God.
I look forward to the day when God will burst through the skies, take us home, and we will be together once more - where there will be no more death, sorrow, or pain. Until then, my Fred, I will hold you in my heart.
With all my love, forever and always,
Your devoted wife, Shirley
My father was not only an extraordinary man but he was also a leader in every sense of the word. He didn’t lead with words alone - he led by example, showing me through his actions what it meant to live a life of integrity, strength, and love. As I reflect on his legacy, I am reminded of the countless ways he shaped my life and the profound lessons he leaves behind.
Strength in Action
Dad was the embodiment of strength and devotion. He didn’t just tell me to be resilient - he showed me how. In every challenge he faced, he stood tall, teaching me that true strength isn’t about never falling but about rising after each fall. His calm determination in the face of life’s trials was a quiet but powerful lesson that inspires me to face my challenges with courage and grace. This was evidenced when he fell ill the first time but refused to give in and was able to recover from the illness. This recovery was also made possible because of friends like Cherleen Williams and Kathleen Ford. Dad did a lot of walking. In later years, he’d walk from our house to Ma Simmons’ house and back, but Covid brought that to a halt. After an extended layoff, I’d encourage him to get back out on the road and start with baby steps. Before long, he was back out there doing his thing.
Teaching Without Words
One of Dad’s greatest gifts was his ability to teach without lecturing. As a child, I remember him bringing me puzzles to solve every week - not because he told me I needed to learn problemsolving, but because he wanted me to experience it for myself. He encouraged me to think critically and independently, planting seeds that would grow into lifelong skills. In later years, we’d spend time cycling together and he was no slouch. (Dexter, no wonder you’re so strong on the bike; it's in the genes.) Years ago Chuckie and I went cycling, and he made the mistake of calling me an old man. After being humbled, he showed more respect. I also learned my lesson, when I mistakenly thought that I could outlast my dad when we were lifting blocks up on the deck in preparation for building. Fortunately, I learned from Chuckie that it's best not to always say what you're thinking. Up to last summer, Dad was still walking strong and accompanying me down to Horseshoe for my weekly swim. I hoped to get him in the water with me, but he never got past the calves. When in the hospital and it became evident that he was going to die, the doctors were surprised that he hung on as long as he did and asked me if he was an athlete because he was so strong. His fitness and energy were yet another way he led by example, showing us the importance of taking care of ourselves physically as well as mentally.
Love in Every Gesture
Dad didn’t just say he loved us - he showed it in everything he did. His love was a constant presence, a steady force that wrapped around us. He taught me the value of family, reminding me that we are strongest when we stand together. His devotion was evident in the little thingsthe way he celebrated every victory - no matter how small - with genuine pride. I also remember being sandwiched between him and my mom on his Triumph motorcycle, and he’d be constantly checking to make sure that we were fine. Even up to recently he also would stop by my apartment mornings to check on me and chat as I got ready for work. On holidays, if I wasn’t up yet, he’d call out to make sure I was okay. That was just who he was - always present, always looking out for those he loved.
Discipline Through Example
Dad’s discipline wasn’t about rules - it was about principles. He didn’t demand respect; he earned it through his actions. I remember him telling me about taking us boys driving to a friend’s house. While Dad chatted outside the car, his friend couldn’t believe how well-behaved we were. That wasn’t because Dad enforced strict rules - it was because we wanted to emulate the respect and composure we saw in him. However, he wasn’t above getting physical, if it was warranted, as I remember making the mistake of being disrespectful to my Mom and learning what a ringing slap was all about. I could now relate to some of the cartoons I had watched. And yes, there is the legendary story about my demolished stereo - a story that some of you may think you know - but trust me when I say, you probably only know half of it. When one saw the entire picture, one could not help but see the love that was there.
A Role Model in Every Way
Dad wasn’t just my father; he was my role model. His life was a masterclass in kindness, hard work, and integrity. He treated folks with respect and compassion and held himself to the highest standards. He taught me that success isn’t about wealth or status - it’s about the love you give and the positive impact you leave on others. My father consistently spent time at the hospital and the Agape House, visiting family, friends, and even folks that he didn’t know. Frequently, he’d have a bunch of Snickers bars that he’d give them. I can’t begin to tell you how many people have called, not just to give their condolences but to tell me stories of how my dad positively impacted them.
Shared Passions and Adventures
Dad loved golf and fishing - and while golf was Eudell’s thing, and fishing was Dexter’s thing, I was happy to settle for the boating part. My boats were not meant for blood and guts, and golf would take away from my boating time. I remember boating to Ferry Reach with Dad and Mom to watch the boat races. Dad took the helm and Mom and I chilled just happy to see him in his element. After the races we went to Tavern on the Square for fish sandwiches. And Dad knew that was the only way that you were going to get fish on my boat. He and I would also spend time working on the moorings down at Jews Bay.
One of Dad’s favorite sayings that I adopted was, “It’s a go.” He got that from Uncle Chick. He would look out the window at his wind indicator - the palm trees. Then laugh and say that no matter what the trees were doing Uncle Chick would call him and say, “Swannie, it’s a go.” Or even during the work week, if there was a flat calm on South Shore, he could get a call and know that “It’s a go.” Another saying of his was, “Why go past fish to catch fish.” He never went past the fish. There were plenty up along the South Shore, and he knew exactly where to go to get them. He also had to purchase a huge deep freezer to hold his catch.
Dad loved sharing his fishing stories and some favorites are the time a hammerhead shark larger than his boat swam alongside the boat, causing him to pull kellet and get out of Dodge. He was not going to take any chances with that shark.
Another was when he and Dexter went fishing and ended up towing Uncle Chick and Mr. Pulley out with them because their prop had been stolen off the engine. The fish were biting that day, but when he saw the weather turning, he didn’t hesitate to again pull the kellet and head home. Dad knew better than to take chances with Dexter. Mom would have taken him out. Additionally, he had the other boat in tow.
Or when he and Gary Crofton were fishing and couldn’t restart the boat, so Gary jumped out of the boat and swam to shore, then ran to a store to get a replacement plug and then swam back to the boat. These guys were serious about their fishing.
On another occasion, Dad was working for this guy Chinks, and late that Friday, Chinks came to pay Dad and asked him how he was doing. Dad responded that he was a little down because it was a holiday weekend, and he wouldn’t be able to go fishing. He needed a boat part, and he wouldn’t be able to get to the shop before it closed. Chinks told him not to worry. I know the owner and I’ll tell him to stay at the shop until you arrive, so that you can get the part you need.
I also remember Uncle Morty and my Dad going fishing and the moms and their children going to swim up at Church Bay. My Dad hooked this huge barracuda and the fight was on. Thankfully, Uncle Morty was there to assist. Some folks exaggerate when telling stories about their fishing prowess, but Dad wasn’t one of them. He walked the talk and made sure that he had pictures to prove it.
Sometimes I had to coax stories out of him - like why some people called him “Man Overboard.” It turns out he and Malcolm Seymour were thrown overboard when a wave struck the boat and Malcolm had pulled the oar in the wrong way causing the boat to tip. Or how he and Gary Crofton used to play hooky from work to go fishing - a habit Craig and I might have inherited. I would go to the beach; I’m not sure where Craig went.
Keeper of Family Stories
In recent years, one of my favorite rituals was lying beside Dad as he waited for the evening news. He’d share stories about traveling with my mom to Aunt Melvina or adventures with Uncle Snowy - and recount family history with vivid detail. He’d often joke about these conversations, saying, “Junior, we are going from ‘Genesis to Revelation.’” Mom would wonder what he was talking about and we would just smile at each other.
Devotion Beyond Words
Dad’s devotion extended far beyond our immediate family. He visited his father regularly to check on and care for him - a commitment he honored without fail. When Dad built our home, he welcomed his mother and nephew into our lives because he believed in giving back to those who had given so much to him. If someone needed assistance, my father was there to assist. He didn’t have a lot, but he was generous with what he had.
Carrying His Legacy Forward
As his son, I am profoundly grateful for everything Dad taught me - not through lectures but through the way he lived his life. His lessons are etched into who I am today. Though my heart aches with the void left by his passing, I find comfort in knowing that his example will forever guide me. Thank you, Dad - for your love, your strength, and your unwavering belief in me. You didn’t just tell me how to live - you showed me every step of the way. I promise to honor your legacy by living with the same passion, dedication, and integrity that defined your life. You will always be my hero. And though you may no longer walk beside me, you will live on in my heart forever.
Lovingly submitted by Fred, Jr.
My Father, My Hero
If I had a penny for every time someone remarked, “Your father was proud of his Bi’s,” I’d have enough to buy out Tucker’s Town.
What most people don’t know is that my pride in him was equally as deep. My father came from humble beginnings, growing up on the proverbial “wrong side of the tracks.” Yet, that didn’t stop him. He not only excelled in his profession, but he also shone as a devoted husband, a loving father, and a doting grandfather.
As a child, I was captivated by those spinning globes of the world. For hours, I’d trace my finger across different countries, imagining what life was like there. So, when the chance for a school trip abroad came, I dared to dream of visiting one of those far-off lands I’d longed to explore. But given my father’s limited means, I never imagined it could be possible. To my amazement, he made it happen.
His prowess on the golf course was legendary in the Port Royal golfing community. He and his group of golfing companions would headto Florida to challenge unsuspecting tournament players, returning with a bounty of trophies
When I moved abroad and told my father I wanted to take up golf, he was thrilled – but also pragmatic. Golf, he warned, could be an expensive hobby. He didn’t want me to invest in a set of clubs only to discover it wasn’t my passion. So, he sent me a pair of his own clubs to get started. That’s just how he was – making things happen.
When he visited, we would explore a different course every day, and without fail, he’d post scores that, to this day, I can’t even dream of matching… yet. You see, my father instilled in us the belief that with hard work, determination, and perseverance, anything was possible.
He was the hardest worker I’ve ever known. Raising four boys wasn’t easy, but he did it with grace and, along the way, imparted lessons that shaped us into entrepreneurs, educators, esteemed businessmen, and IT analysts.
He often said, "You're not ordinary!"
And he was right. Not everyone gets to have a superhero for a father. We were blessed.
So when I hear people say, “Your father was proud of his Bi’s,” I can’t help but smile and think, "I'm proud of you too, Pop. You're my hero." Lovingly submitted by Eudell
A Tribute to Dad
My dad has always been my Superman, but as I age, it becomes more evident that his superpower was being able to pierce the veil of present performance and see what others could not.
Dad had a tough love approach. I learned early in life that it was “his house, his rules”. But they were not arbitrary rules. They were designed to protect me and ensure that I would eventually become a responsible adult. The Bible says: “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” I am thankful. While I initially strayed, I eventually became who I am because of my dad. But more on this tough love approach later.
Dad was a renaissance man, having many interests. His many talents included music. He loved to play music. One of the songs I recall him playing on his guitar was the Beach Boys’ song, "Sloop John B (I wanna go home).” But Dad would add extra syncopation to make it sound much more soulful and even better than the Beach Boys' version. Dad would also listen to music. He had numerous LPs for the house and cassette tapes for his Morris Marina, which had an enhanced sound system so we could really enjoy the music during car drives. Dad loved listening to R&B of the 60s and 70s (Barry White, Gladys Knight, Spinners, Dionne Warwick, Patti LaBelle, et al). Moreover, Dad never really strayed from his religious roots. He had the Harmony Four and other gospel albums in his musical collection. And, while working or even strolling through the house, I would often hear Dad singing church hymns. I would enjoy how he would sing the harmony of these hymns in his soulful Baritone voice. One of his favourite songs was “Nearer my God to Thee”.
Dad loved sports - He worked long hours as a profession, and also helped his friends build their respective houses, but he still found time to fit his family into his passions, leaving me with lasting childhood memories of us being together and feeling loved. I recall Dad taking us to Coney Island every other weekend to watch motorcross. When not a motorcross weekend, Dad would take us to Ferry Reach to watch boat racing. For the annual Around the Island boat races, Dad would take us to Flatts Bridge to watch the boats come down Flatts Inlet, go through bridge, and around Harrington Sound before exiting Flatts. After all the boats exited, we would head to Ferry Reach to see the boats finish.
Dad took us to Benard Park to watch men's and women's softball. I recall Dad taking us to see Bermuda's “Big Blue Machine” championship softball team. It was exciting to see them play and become absorbed in the Bermuda national pride. I also recall Dad taking me to football games to watch Southampton Rangers. Those were the days when Rangers were contenders. It was a festive environment! Mr. Darrell and Mr. Raynor were on the sidelines shouting, “Rangers! Attack! Attack! Attack! Atack!” Memories remain of watching the New York Cosmos with Dad at the old Nationals Sports Centre when the Cosmos visited the island to play a Bermuda select. The Cosmos at the time had former football greats, like Brazilian Carlos Alberto and Germany's Kiazer, Franz Beckenbauer.
While not exactly sports related, unless eating is considered a sport, as children, I recall Dad taking us on the long evening drives from Southampton to St. David's to buy us fried fish. It was a tasty treat.
But what about this tough love/my house-my rules approach? I was an extremely low achiever. In high school, I remember a teacher telling me that I would never amount to anything, and by all evidence, she was right. I likely would have ended up being someone aimlessly spending my days willingly unemployed if I simultaneously had somewhere to eat and rest my head. Dad saw this trait, so after a few weeks post my high school, he said, "Craig, are you looking for a job because you know if you don't work, you can't eat!" Knowing Dad wasn't one for empty threats, I knew I had to begin to change and got a full-time job within a week or two. It still took me several years to find my stride, but that was a defining moment to awaken me to realizing that I needed to be more productive.
Once I began to work, I invested a good share of my income into motor bikes ... I guess at this point, I should pause to say to the readers and hearers of this Tribute: “Do not try this at home” . . . I purchased every part I could find to enhance speed plus bored additional ports in the block, shaved and cut holes in the piston, modified the jets, etc. Every Tuesday, I would strip and buff the inside of the engine, place additive into the gas tank to increase revs and power. Dad saw this and knew something was up, so he said that if he ever caught me speeding, he would take the bike. His house - his rules. Once I almost got caught. While working in the main dining at Southampton Princess, a debate ensued regarding who had the fastest bike. Bragging rights were on the line so we stupidly decided that we would race from Waterlot to Warwick Bowl on the slippery roads. I was leading until the corner just before Raynor’s Gas Station when my chain came off and locked the back wheel. Well! Let’s just say that that was one of many times I lost skin by doing dumb stuff. Only through God’s grace I am here to tell. Dad missed the accident, but drove by as I was fixing the chain. He stopped and asked if I needed assistance. I assured him that all was fine. Loving my bike, I knew I had dodged a bullet. Had he been a few minutes earlier . . . SMH. While it took a few years, I eventually learned the lesson my dad was trying to teach me. My wife now complains that I drive too slow.
One of my dad’s superpowers was being able to pierce the veil of evidence and see in me what I couldn’t see in myself. I hadn’t had a successful employment track record. I quit my first job because I became aware through the grapevine that my employer was going to fire me for lack of productivity. I had no real goals, but Dad saw something. And so another defining moment occurred one day while on a job site with Dad. One of his colleagues asked me in Dad's presence: "Craig, so are you going to follow in your father's footsteps?" You see, Dad had a reputation for being “Top Class”. Before I could answer in the affirmative, Dad jumped in and answered, "No! He has too much brains!" For me, it was not so much the complementary words, but the power and conviction in which the words were delivered. It was like Dad was accusing the guy of being stupid! What do you mean? Don’t you see my son’s potential! My son will be more! This burned a lasting memory in my mind and lit a fire, letting me know that I definitely needed to get my life in order to at least start living up to Dad's expectations.
Yes! It was his house - his rules to ensure we eventually reached our potential. But what sticks out most is that in addition to being able to identify and tap into hidden potential, Dad was very kind and would do anything for his family. After leaving the homestead, it was rare for me to walk away from visiting Dad’s house without his giving me a gift(s): tools, food, advice, or all three. He would look for ways to make my life easier.
When my son, Cani, was born, Dad and Mom were the first to the hospital to see their grandson. And for several years later, until we had to tell him to stop and save his retirement money, every Saturday, Dad would take a long drive to purchase and leave a bag of groceries at our door. He wouldn't disturb us. When we woke up, we would know to go to the door because there would be a bag of groceries on our doorstep. Dad was never asked to do this. He delighted in doing for his family.
When I reflect, Dad’s superpowers may have also comprised time expansion: while working long hours, he identified the interests of each of his four sons and carved out alone time for us all, making us feel that we each were the most special person in the world, whether fishing with Dexter, golf with Eudell, boating with Fred Jr. or football games with me. Later in life similar attention was given to his grandchildren.
My dad has always been my Superman. I may not have started as the most promising, but he used his superpower to look beyond the veil of evidence and see in me what I didn’t initially see in myself. I am forever grateful and will forever miss you, Dad.
Lovingly submitted by son, Craig
The Life and Legacy of Fredrick B Swan: My Mentor, My Hero
There are men, and then there are giants! My father, Frederick B. Swan, was a giant - pillars of strength, wisdom, and integrity. He was a master craftsman, a provider, a man of his word, and a no-nonsense kind of fellow. He lived by structure, timekeeping, and the principle that if you said you were going to do something, you did it. To him, honor was in the details.
Music filled our home like the heartbeat of our family. Calypso, old soul, and gospel resonated through the walls, each song marking a rhythm to our days. But just as steady as the music was his routine. Like clockwork, he was up at 5:30 a.m., out the door by 6:00 a.m., ready to face the day with precision and purpose. He faced every challenge head-on, never wavering, never backing down.
Fishing was his escape, his passion, and our bond. Some of our best memories were spent on the water with Uncle Chick Bean, Mr. Pulley Nusum, Clark Raynor, and Butch Taylor. Every Cup Match, he was up at 4:30 a.m., checking the weather, making calls to his boys. “It’s a go!” he’d say, marching into my room at 5:30 a.m. to wake me up. “Let’s roll!”
I remember the first time he let me take the wheel at age 12, navigating the reefs out of Sinky Bay onto the South Shore, him pointing the way, humming a tune. Then there was the day he caught a shark. Normally, we’d put the bully stick on it before hauling it aboard, but this time, he pulled it right in. The beast swung its tail, took the skin off my leg, and sent me running full speed to the bow, ready to jump overboard - until Butch grabbed me just in time. I hadn’t thought about the other sharks circling below.
There was never a dull moment on the water, like the time Uncle Chick and Mr. Nusum’s boat wouldn’t move. We looked back, saw them waving, turned around, and found their propeller had been stolen overnight. Good thing we always went out with two boats. My dad always preached, “Safety first! Don’t play out here!” And that day, we ended up towing them out to the fishing grounds so they wouldn’t miss out.
When I was building my home, we had some of our best times together - new school versus old school, clashing and learning. He liked things done a certain way. If they weren’t, he’d shout, “Now look!” I’d respond, “Take it easy, new school is on the job - pay attention.” He’d grumble, but when the job was done, he’d step back, nod, and say, “You’re right! You know something too!”
Like the time I had the excavator dig the tank, called for the block, and filled the hole. He arrived, shouting, “Are you crazy?!” Then said, “Gombay! How are you going to lay out the walls with all the blocks in the way? They’ll be crooked!”
“Dad, take it easy - you’re going to give yourself a meltdown. I have a plan.”
“Well, I’ll be watching. In all my years, I’ve never seen this.”
When the last block was laid, he went straight to work checking for squareness, pulling out his trusty tape, measuring from one corner - 3 feet, then 4 feet, not expecting to see 5 feet. He measured again. Then paused. “Okay, I take it back! You showed me something.”
After that, he never questioned me again. We became like Bonnie and Clyde, in sync. He led, I followed, or vice versa. He was always willing to learn, even when it came to my “new school” ways.
Another time, he arrived, ready to help plaster the second-story ceiling. Jumping out of his car, “Okay, let’s go!”
“Dad, go up on the porch and take a seat. I got this.”
“What do you mean? How are you getting the plaster up top without me?”
“Watch and see.”
He sat, eyes sharp like an eagle, watching me mix the sand and cement. Then, I jumped in the Bobcat, lifted the plaster in a large trough, and placed it on the second story.
“Oh man, this is nice! I could get used to this! I’m used to forming a chain and passing buckets up, but this - this is nice! Okay, boss!” He laughed, enjoying the ease of a new method.
One of the greatest moments of my life was earning his approval. He knew my skills in different fields, but now I was in his arena, and he was the king. Yet, he recognized my way worked too. When he started passing down his tools - the old wooden level, a true classic, and the folding tape - I knew what it meant. Those tools weren’t just objects. They were lessons, memories, and a passing of the torch. It was a sign of pride.
One of the biggest challenges we tackled together was forming my living room ceiling - the angles that catch your eye the moment you walk in. The attention to detail had to be perfect. And if there was one thing my dad preached, it was “measure twice, cut once.”
I don’t want to give the impression that I was the perfect son. I was a terror in my younger days, but it’s not how you start; it’s how you finish!
In 2011, when my parents stayed with me while my brother Fred, Jr. worked on his home, my dad and I had some of our best times in my shed on the hill - the Tree House, as he called it. Every day, he’d run out, asking, “What time are we going to the Tree House?” I’d say, “Thirty minutes.” He loved craftsmanship, the smell of sawdust, the rhythm of work.
We’d spend hours there, laughing, telling stories, analyzing every detail of the projects. He’d always be looking at my tools, telling Karyn, “I’m a rough-in carpenter, but he’s a finish carpenter - not ordinary.”
Whenever we talked about the renovations on his home, he’d pull out his trusty tape, measuring everything, making sure it was just right. And when something was done well, he had his signature seal of approval: “not ordinary! You’re the man!
As my dad got older and started walking with a cane, it still didn’t stop him from checking on the projects. When we started building the bike shop, Social Cycles, even though he couldn’t jump like in the old days, his attention to detail had shifted - he was now the inspector. And Bermuda’s planning department had nothing on him.
Walking the site with his cane, he made sure everything was in order. The boys knew if something was off, he’d catch it. He’d ask lots of questions, crack jokes, and keep the energy high. My mom wasn’t far behind, her eagle eye ensuring that everything was kept clean and tidy.
One day, he asked, “What’s on the agenda?”
“We’re building the countertop.”
“Okay, let me see!”
Even with his cane, he walked the entire job site and even showed the boys he could still climb the scaffolding, striking a pose for a photo or two.
The workers loved when he came around. They soaked up his wisdom, shared stories, and of course, enjoyed hearing any dirt on me. My mom, on the other hand, took on the role of ensuring the site was spotless - just like she had done for Uncle Johnny’s projects. My dad would laugh and say, “She’s no Gombay!”
When the shop was complete, we took a photo of my parents standing proudly out front. “You’re not ordinary,” they said, and in that moment, I knew I had honored them both.
Final Thoughts
My dad was my mentor, my hero, my rock. He faced every challenge, every tough time head-on. He honored his word, valued structure, and never let anyone beat him to the job site. He taught me that precision, hard work, and commitment mattered.
To stand beside him, to work with him, to learn from him - it was the greatest honor of my life.
You’re not ordinary, Dad!
Dex
Pops was a man who took immense pride in his family, always declaring that they were "not the ordinary." His family was his greatest joy, his heart's treasure. At the center of it all was his queen, Mom, whom he cherished and treated with the utmost love and respect.
When Pops had to dress up, he looked good, and he knew it. He would often come around to me and say, “Annie, can you take a picture of me”. Then he’d spin around before striking his pose, ready for a picture that captured how smart he looked. But beyond his sharp attire, it was his warm, genuine hugs that truly left an imprint on my heart. He'd open his arms wide, waiting with that familiar smile, ready to wrap you in an embrace filled with warmth and love. He sure loved to hug.
I can still hear his laughter from the time I drove him and Aunt Shirley to the airport. In my rush to get them there on time, I sped over a speed bump, sending them bouncing up to the car ceiling. Pop's exclaimed, "Jesus, you are trying to take us out! You need to slow down." That became a running joke. Every time I drove him to the airport afterward, he'd remind me of that speed bump, ensuring we didn't take flight again. He also loved to tease me about my driving, claiming he couldn't go on casual drives with me because all he saw were telephone poles whizzing by. Yet, despite the jokes, he proudly bragged about my driving skills. I also remember the police pulling him over because he was driving too slow. They thought that the driver might have been drinking, but that was certainly not the case. He was taking his own sweet time. I wonder when Fred, Jr. will get pulled over for the same thing.
Pops was a man of discipline and vitality, into fitness from the day we met. I remember my 5:30 am runs with my neighbor, and there he was, already up and out for his 5 am walks, a sturdy stick in hand "for protection," he'd say with a grin. Even after I stopped my runs, he kept up his routine, his energy unyielding - like an energizer bunny, always in motion, always full of life.
Pops enjoyed good cooking; after all, Mom set a high standard in the kitchen with her cooking and baking. So, I was happy to discover that he loved my johnny bread, even if I got distracted and browned it too much. He still loved them, and he’d say with a wink, "A little burn is good for you."
I hold dear the memories of him and my dad, side by side, building onto the studio apartment when Fred, Jr. and I got married. Their teamwork was more than construction; it was a symbol of strengthened family bonds. Pops was more than just a father-in-law; he was a beacon of love, strength, and devotion. His legacy lives on in the stories we share, the lessons we learned, and the love he gave so freely. I will miss you Pops, and you will forever be woven into the fabric of my heart.
Lovingly submitted,
Andalyn (daughter-in-law)
I don’t know where to begin. When Craig told me that Pops had left us, I was in complete disbelief. No way! He was too big to not be here. He was my Pops. He gave his love with a constant show of unwavering affection. Always happy to see me and ‘demand’ his squeeze, there was nothing like a hug from Pops. For the 32 years I have been a part of the Swan family, Pops has been my guy. He openly embraced and welcomed me into the Swan family. As I found my place within its fold, Pops was always there, making me feel like his daughter.
I remember the day I told him that I was expecting. The huge smile that crossed his face, the tight hug of excitement and then his enthusiastic announcement to his neighbors made the occasion extra special. Cani was the apple of Pops’ eye from the moment he knew he was going to be a grandfather. As he later told me, he had given up on becoming a grandfather and Cani’s arrival was the icing on the cake. Needless to say, Cani was spoiled with love and attention. I couldn’t ask for better grandparents.
I recall the times I would share how Craig or Cani wouldn’t want to do something, usually attending an event. And he would be so proud that they were a chip off the old block. Pops liked his alone time and Craig and Cani followed in his footsteps. Pops proudly proclaimed, “That’s my bie!”
Because Pops was so generous with his time, when it came to family, it was my privilege to provide any requests Pops asked of me. If he wanted mac and cheese, he got it. If he wanted turkey, he got it. If he needed to run an errand, I was there. He didn’t ask often because he was Mr. Independent, so it was extra special when he did reach out.
There are so many memories that are indelibly imprinted on my heart - memories too numerous to recount. It was my privilege to be loved by Pops and I can only hope that I leave a similar legacy of love and dedication.
Lovingly submitted by
Juanita (daughter-in-law)
The Last Chapter
You always know when you're doing something for the first time but you seldom know when you are doing something for the last time.
Visiting Pops in the hospital, the Saturday before last has now become bittersweet. He was looking for something to watch on TV and I was tasked with finding the channel. Meanwhile, he commented several times on how beautiful his granddaughter was, asked me, “Where’s momma?“ (Ma Shirley) and “How’s momma doing?” (my mother). I found the golf channel and he was so excited and he told me I love you for that! yep, I love you double for that!
Pops always had a story or a giggle for me and we had a special code of citing the Lord’s prayer when all we could do is shake our heads at something or it was best to keep quiet.
Pop’s had a keen eye for fashion and loved to wear a good press. When he saw me in my work clothes, he would call me Michelle and insist I strike a pose. He also called me Townie or City Mouse, and he was always happy to introduce this city mouse to country things like scrubby grass.
He would often tease me and say to Dex, ‘Townie don’t know nuffin about this, does she?” Several times he told me to always stand on principle, no matter what and no matter who, and that a good run is better than a bad stand!
I have fond memories of how he would visit early on Saturday mornings after golf, and then his visits were in place of golf. During these times, we would sit off and chat. He loved to bring me up to speed on the local and foreign news or tell me a story about his early days.
Sometimes we would walk Amy to see what fish were swimming, watch the boats go up the channel or go for a drive to Dockyard or town to visit Dex at work. I feel privileged that he would let me drive Bessy so he could ensure my stick shift skills stayed sharp.
He loved to brag about how he was a good dancer or about one of his bies.
Pops loved a picture, particularly of nature and if something caught his eye, he would say, “Karyn, look at that,” and ask if I took a picture. Of course, he trained me early on picture taking of people - you gotta get de feet in the pic.
Little did I know that, that Saturday morning would be the last time I would hear him say, “Whadup whadup,” talk to me or the last time I would hear his voice or be able to hug him.
In the end, all we have left are our memories, bits and pieces of time spent together. Family, I will forever cherish how you have allowed me to share in the last chapter with your husband and father.
Lovingly submitted by Karyn (daughter-in-law)
My middle name is Byron, and I’ll make my Papa proud.
I remember spending a lot of time with my grandparents, and I loved every second. It’s funny hearing these stories of “tough love” my dad has. That must have just been his dad because that could never be MY Papa. There was nothing tough about how my Papa loved me and because of that, it’s truly shaped the Man I’ve become today. I mean I’d be lying if I said I don’t remember getting a stern talking to when I’d play around on his boat or when I’d play with the light string attached to the fan. Or, when I’d stress everyone out jumping off of the patio wall. But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do those things; let’s be honest. Not once did he go too far and though he was stern, my lessons of boundaries and restraint stem from those moments. Not once did I ever feel for a second that my Papa didn’t love me. In fact, disciplining a child while maintaining their security is a gift I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
I remember spending a lot of time with my grandparents, and I loved every second of it. Every year at BI my favourite occasion was Grandparents Day because I had the coolest pair. And it’s not lost on me that every occasion of my life worth seeing, they were there. And I know today is for my Papa but I can’t ignore the unit of love that I’ve had to look up to my entire life. Both my Nana and Papa have given me more love in this quarter of my life than I even know what to do with. Every achievement, they’ve been there, and having them consistently in my corner, as proud as they are, has been a huge factor in my success. Every graduation, every landmark, every event they can make it to - they’ve made it too. I’ve even heard they were the first people at the hospital the day I was born. If that wasn’t an indicator of the role they’d play in my life, I don’t know what is.
I remember spending a lot of time with my grandparents, and I loved every second of it. I have a hard time just talking about my Papa because in my eyes there’s always the both of them. I’ve watched a man love his sons with everything he has; I’ve watched his sons excel in life exceeding all expectations, utilizing the framework set out for them. I’ve had the honour to be born into a family of immense achievement. I may not know every detail, but I’ve seen a man provide for his family and live by his duty. I’ve watched a marriage last through generations and, up until my last moments with them, to see the light in their lives. I look at them and I’m inspired by their perseverance. I’ve had the conversation a few times talking about how lucky I am to be surrounded by many successful relationships and how they’ve helped me navigate my own. I’m beyond grateful for the family I’ve been given and the legacy I get to carry.
I wish I could spend more time with my grandparents; I’d love every second of it. I’m pretty much an adult now. I’ve been working hard with my free time for over ten years, building skills to become who my Papa knows I am. I tried to fight myself to stay as focused as possible to get through high school and had a hard time in college. I didn’t want to quit the path I was on because I was extremely stubborn. I managed to brute force my way through the IB program, despite hating every second of it, so that I can represent the Swan name. But for my first go at university, it didn’t quite work out like that. I hated my courses; I hated being away from home; and I relied solely on the pressure of success to get as far as I did. Sitting down with my Papa with him reminding me of the security I have is what gave me the confidence to pivot into an area I actually enjoy. I quit . . . not really though. I switched my degree and method, finished a four-year degree in two years and got Byron on my class ring to represent the people I’m doing this for. I’m in my last year of law school now and still utilize the same security instilled in me to get through the foolishness this degree has me doing.
I remember when Covid hit. I was mortified of the implication of its cause. I still have anxiety today of the same issue: the number of people who don’t wash their hands, the number of hands I now have to shake. How easily I get sick, knowing you’re most contagious for three days before showing any symptoms. I was terrified at the idea of passing anything to the greatest sources of love in my life and I still am to this day. After traveling I give myself some time. And after going into town, I overload on immune boosters and wait a few days to make sure I’m all good before visiting. But I guess that cuts down on time, eh. I do feel bad. I’m even away while writing this. I hope he knew I love him even more today than I did as a baby. I hope he knew my not visiting often wasn’t me being uninterested. I hope he knew that he’s made such an impact on my life, even writing this. Our memories make me smile and motivate me further. I hope he knew just how much he means to me. I hope he knew that because of him I’ve dedicated my life to exceeding. I will accomplish my goals, I will do the Swan name justice, and I will make sure that it is known that it’s because of my Papa.
To my dear brother Fred,
There was a time when my brother and I were getting ready for Christmas and we both went out to get some wine for our mother from the store. We went home and our mother was at church. We took it upon ourselves to try a couple sips of wine. Low and behold we knocked ourselves out. Our mother came home only to see us passed out. Mother was so upset with us that she gave us both a good beating and sent us to bed. We were told never to drink wine ever again. Every time our mother was looking for us, we were at the beach. One day my brother and his friends threw me overboard because I was always hanging around him. So, when they threw me over that is when I learned how to swim from that day on.
Mr. Fred - my brother - was a very hard worker and worked hard all his life. He done all he could for us and his family as well as his friends. He was so amazing, loving, and kind to everyone. He also loved to have fun with us and play around. One thing about my brother though is he would tell you like it is.
With all my love,
Your sister, Edith
To Mama Swan, your sons, and the rest of the family,
The first day I came to be with Papa Swan was a very delightful day. I was so happy to be able to take care of two very sweet and loving people. I thought Papa Swan and I hit it off on a good note. I would cook for him and cater to his every need at the time. Papa Swan was always so thankful for everything I had done for him. He really enjoyed his breakfasts and lunches I made for him. I recall him saying “mum this is so good, it’s so delicious” then he would say “hallelujah, hallelujah, thank you Jesus! Now how did you make that?” LOL!!
He was emotional at times but with a smile of happiness on his face, feeling like a king, and blessed for everything. We prayed on the days he felt weak. I would reassure and encourage him that all was good in the name of Jesus no matter what. I would say “God’s got you for always, I know that you are thankful for everything” and I would hug him or massage his shoulders.
Much love always, From Claranda Easton - my prayers and thoughts are forever with you.
Tribute to Fred Swan - Eugene Johnston
When I was told my good friend Fred passed, I was surprised and saddened. I’ve known him all my life, from around ten or eleven years old. We spent time together in the neighborhood; his grandfather lived next door to me, and he would be over my house all the time. He was always willing to help me whenever I needed an extra hand. When we were younger, Fred and I used to play, fish, golf, and work together. He was a great mason who had a passion for the work he did.
One memorable occasion was when we travelled to Florida to play golf at the Brothers’ Open with friends Stanley Ingham and the late Malcolm Lowe. He used to go to bed around five or six every evening and wake up around four or five every morning. He would go for a walk before anybody else woke for the day. One evening, when we were ready to leave for dinner, we looked around for Fred and he was fully tucked into bed. When we told him we were leaving, he said, “you ain’t leaving me here alone,” and was at the door before we could get there. Fred’s early rising meant he was always early to work too. If we were making seven, he would be there at six thirty reading his newspaper.
He was a great family man who showed great interest in his four boys. Everything was “My bies! My bies!”. He was a proud father. I remember he came into work after us one morning, that was so unusual it had everybody asking questions. “Man, you don’t know what happened,” he told us. My wife Shirley went on vacation, and she left me to fend for myself and my bies. Shirley cooked and left a stew for them, but he had to cook rice to go along with the meal. Fred said he put some rice in the pot, looked at it long and hard, and said to himself “one of my bies can eat that amount by themselves”. So, he decided to add the whole box of rice to the pot. When he came back to check the rice it was all over the burners, the counters, and the floor. He was up half the night trying yo clean up the mess; and came to work later than normal the next day because of it.
No matter what, he was always the same whenever we met but when he didn’t feel like being bothered, he would let you know. He never held a grudge towards his work colleagues or anyone he would have disagreed with. I guess we can say that no matter wherever or whenever you met Fred, he would always greet you with a smile, handshake, or hug.
To his family I send heartfelt condolences, and he will never be forgotten. From his dear friend Eugene Johnson and family
Austin Ible
Samuel Wilson
Mitchell DeShields
Dave Hill
Undray Hill
Archer Hill
Jason Robinson
Ross Todd
Philip James
Preston Dowling
Sidney Simmons, Jr.
Nathan Darrell
Honorary
Sherman Swan
Louis Thomas
Eugene “Jack” Johnston
Colin Paynter
Raymond Simons
In this time of profound loss, we would like to express our heartfelt gratitude to those who provided unwavering support and care to Papa during his illness.
First and foremost, we extend our deepest appreciation to Claranda Easton, whose dedication and compassion as his caregiver made a remarkable difference in his life. Your kindness and attentiveness brought comfort to our family during a difficult time, and we are forever grateful for the love and support you provided.
Our family would also like to thank the exceptional doctors, nurses, and ancillary staff at King Edward Memorial Hospital (KEMH). Your professionalism, expertise, and empathy in caring for Papa did not go unnoticed. Each of you played a vital role in ensuring he received the best possible care, and your efforts brought solace to our family in our moments of need.
To everyone who contributed to Papa’s care, your kindness and commitment will always be remembered. Thank you for being there for him and for us during this challenging journey. Your compassion has made an indelible impact on our lives.
We wish to acknowledge also Pastor Hendrickson. You answered again – to another family funeral. Thank you for your pastoral support.
We would like to extend a huge shout-out to our family who have rallied around the preparations for Dad’s funeral. This is a family that digs deep to support in every way possible. In addition, every family needs a Heather, Patrice, Deborah, Verona, and Lois. The programs and the video presentation testify to their endless hours of attention. Hats off to your guys.
We acknowledge the support of the compassionate staff of Amis Memorial Chapel. During our time of loss, you helped us to navigate through a difficult time and emerge with the sense that our loved one was well-taken care of. Thank you for your professional services.
Finally, we offer warm sentiments of gratitude to the Southampton SDA Church for accommodating this service. We are grateful for the efficiency of Margaret Goulbourne for coordinating the various teams for their support in making this service memorable - the deacons and deaconesses, the audio-visual and Easy Worship Church teams and all of the behind-thescenes help that we do not want to ignore. Thank you so very much.
Although many friends and family are unable to join us in person, they have offered their condolences through calls and electronic contacts during this time.
Kaven Ible, Leon Rewan - Alabama; Laverne Harrison, Shankar Purohit - California; Dr. Gina Brown - Maryland; Dr. Kina Hill-Francis, Georgia Freeman - Pennsylvania; Paulette and Frankie Burford - Texas; Lynsene Caines - Virginia
