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That is Mr. Palmer in that photo. He spoke in a real high pitch voice and would ask if you would "Look at my beautiful shells"
He had two houses for rent in Red Ground, and I stayed there a few times between 72 and 75. It was very dark at night. Few lights at all besides a few hurricane lamps. I can remember listening in the dark to unseen people talking and singing quietly as they walked along the lane. I did get robbed there one night. Sleeping with my shorts on a hook and the window open, I was awaken by Mr. Palmer's Voice shouting "Help help, someone has been robbed". That night, someone used a long stick to reach through the window and snag my shorts with wallet. Those same shorts and wallet were laying on the ground behind my cottage. Thankfully, I had been using travelers checks and they were still there. two or three Jamaican dollars were missing. The girl who worked for Mr. Palmer suspected her brother of the crime and gave him a scowl as he happened by to ask me if I would be interested in trading him for some German Marks. Evidently he was a known thief and banks and businesses would not deal with him.
There was little electricity back then. A hot water shower could be obtained by using garden hoses on the roof of the cottage. Ganja was found in just about every container on the property from old paint cans under the sink to a feed sack full on the roof. One night I discovered the young woman who worked for Mr. Palmer taking a sip of cool water from an ice tray in Palmer s Refrigerator. Not enough juice to actually freeze the water but enough to cool it down, and cool water was a luxury. I kept quiet about my find and shared it with her, unknown to her.
There was no trash back then. Everything was recycled in some way or simply used up. Chickens ate just about anything that got away from the dogs. Food scraps, bones, mango seeds, all used up. Fatties rolled with stripped butcher paper or smoked through a bottle neck with a stone dropped in the bottom. I had rented a car in MoBay and visited many relatives all over the Western End of the Island. I was the driver. It was great. So many little out of the way places in the hills that one could Never find again. Bringing some fish, trading for some fruit, it was fun.
Nick, I was robber on my 1st trip in 73 much the same way, shorts on the floor with my money cash in the pockets, got up the next morning and my short were not on the floor looked out the open window and their they were in the yard. That was about the 2nd or 3rd night so Daisy gave me my money back for the cottage of a $70 for the 9 days and told us we could eat any of the fruit from the yard, she made sure we did not go very hungary.
I learned that a guy named Gladstone had been the robber and the police killed him a few years lated and throw him off the cliffs, he lived next door. I remember Daisy telling us not to make friends, i did not understand that them everyone was so great. Gladstone would stop by everyday a have a smoke he said he was on holiday too.
The nights, the smell of the coils and lamps burning and the dogs barking and people talking, then the sound of a small plane coming in to land on a road some where near late at night for a pick up and the buzz of the mosquitos around your head that sound like a jet plane.
Then I would start at daybreak going the other way. It was the start of a new day ahead. This is what I loved about Negril.
Last edited by lane; 01-03-2013 at 03:33 PM. Reason: add more
Wow! Good stuff lane!!
Feb.1 - 16 Xtabi
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Just got back from JA yesterday and was able to confirm that the Jason I know is the same one you are referring to. He is still in Negril. If you ask for him at Juicy J's, someone will most likely know where to find him. Sadly, his mother has passed away. Not sure about his father.
great thread 33 days till 40th year.
also my 40 th year coming up. i am greatly enjoying the stories so i will add one.
Dalton was a good friend up in red ground but when he got on crack or whatever was going around then he was not himself. we stayed with his mom Ms. Pernell and it seemed like every year at least once we would get into somekind of argument.
this one year he was in rare form and one night someone came to my window and pried open the window. the person said . give me all your money or i'll shoot the lady.. i figured it was Dalton so said Dalton get the hell out of here.. the person said. it is not Dalton. later that trip the family tied him up to his bed to keep him out of trouble.
Thanks for your help, JamericanNC. I appreciate your going to the trouble to check this out for me. I am so sorry to learn that his mother has passed away. She was the sweetest, most helpful person. I remember her making me some great breakfasts - fried plantains, aikee, eggs, and some of that wonderful Blue Mountain coffee with sweetened condensed milk. May God Bless her and may she rest in peace.
I would bring toys with me for Jason when I came to visit. He was such a cute kid. He loved the Million Dollar Man, back when there were very few TV shows available in JA. Jason could make the sounds and act in slow motion like he was the Million Dollar Man.
Sitting on the porch of Steve and Erica's house on top of Red Ground, one could see over the tops of trees the ocean in the distance. Steve would fire up a spliff of some excellent herb of de earth and crank up his huge set of speakers and Bob Marley would croon:
Mm-mm. Mm-mm.
Oh, ma ...................
Oh, ma ...................
Oh, ma children are cryin'.
Oh, children, weep no more!
Oh, ma sycamore tree, saw the freedom tree.
All you ... have spoke:
Oh, children, weep no more;
Weep no more: children, weep no more!
At that point, everything was most definitely Irie Mon!
Sounds like something that my buddy and I did on our first trip. We were walking along the road in Red Ground in a dark area, and someone stepped out the darkness and demanded our money. Neither one of us even broke stride, one of just said "forget it" and we kept walking. The would be robber faded back into the darkness.