Guyanese Online

Several years ago I played at the funeral of a St Lucian friend who had died after a tough two-year battle with cancer. His name was Bobby Clarke and our friendship began in the early 1970s when Tradewinds were playing all over the Caribbean and came to make the first of many appearances in St Lucia.

During my time in music, I have met, literally, hundreds of people, but only a few have become special. Bobby Clarke was one of those.  In the 35 years after we met, I don’t think any two-month period passed without our talking to each other or visiting each other. I had even played with Tradewinds, as friends, at Bobby’s wedding in St Lucia. The bond between us never weakened. We told each other everything. We had become brothers.             

Something else: many years ago, I had written a song called ‘Living in the Sun.’ Contrary to what people assume, very few songs are truly personal, but this one was. It had to do with my migrating to Canada and of, in effect, finding the Caribbean by leaving it − as Bobby did; as so many Caribbean people do − and there are two verses in the song about Bobby and St Lucia.  So after his wife Angela called, and after I got over the shock of his passing, the thought came that I should sing ‘Living in the Sun’ at his funeral, and that’s what I did at the Cathedral in Castries on that solemn Monday afternoon four years ago. I did it simply. No bass. No drums. Just two acoustic guitars: me and Boo Hinckson – a great guitarist from St Lucia I’ve known for years –who was also close to Bobby.

I’ve never played at a funeral before, and I was very nervous, but once I started, the song rolled out. It was pure Caribbean, in church mind you, but it was a really touching moment because the song talks about the simple joys of Caribbean life, and while it was clearly a sad occasion in the cathedral, it was an uplifting moment. People applauded after we finished – unusual for a funeral service.

And that’s the other thought that subsequently came to me: that through some songs I had written about Caribbean life, I had come to know wonderful people all over this region that I would not have known otherwise.  When I visit Barbados, or St Vincent, or St Lucia, people shout at me in the street or call the radio to say hello; these people have become my regional cousins.  I have come to know the little back-o-wall villages in those scattered places and the solid, genuine people who live there and invite you into their homes and make you feel special – all from the songs.

In Guyana of course, the exchange is more powerful and more widespread and it affects me more, but on the plane trip back from that St Lucia experience it came to me to be grateful to God for giving me this musical gift that has opened windows for me all over the hemisphere and brought me directly into so many Caribbean lives.

So now as Christmas approaches, and we begin to reflect on the things in life we are grateful for, I remember to give thanks for all these wonderful people in the Caribbean and my homeland whom I have come to know because of my songs. Christmas, for us, as for many of mankind, is a time of true giving and receiving, when families come together, in our case, some travelling from thousands of miles away, to share and exchange and remember.  A time, of course, for the Christmas songs – I even wrote one of my own, called “Bethlehem,” for Tradewinds – and the special things to eat and drink, and of a people sharing and celebrating and remembering those who have gone before us, and of our connection to God, and the Christ child, and to the teachings of Jesus that continue to be pertinent to our lives, arguably one of the greatest blessings we have been given.

 By Dave Martins  – December 20, 2020 – Stabroek News