Adamson, Anthony Lionel

Adamson, Anthony Lionel
10 Jan
2018

Anthony Lionel Adamson, age 77, affectionately known as “An”, “Farnum” or “Foreman”, of Gaggs Hill, St. Joseph, former Employee of the Grantley Adams International Airport Maintenance Workshop, Son of the late Catherine and Leslie Adamson, Father of Sheldon Adamson of the U.S.A., David Downes – Teacher of the Parkinson Memorial School and Coralita Downes of the Land Registry, Grandfather of Hakeem Clarke, Abigail and Asher Nelson-Downes, Brother of Kelson Adamson of the U.K., Winston Adamson of Canada, Curtis Cumberbatch and the late Carl and Secel Adamson, Father-in-law of Judith Nelson-Downes and Natasha Atkinson, Brother-in-law of Peggy and Luba Adamson, Uncle of Livingstone Cooke, DeVere Tempro, Vere, Sonia, Tracy, Julie and Lisa, Cousin of Tonya, Angela, Denis, Ena and Jean Small, Diana Greenidge and many others, Relative of the Adamson, Small, Webb, Kellman and Marshall families, Friend of Lemuel Leslie, Andy Miller and many others

The funeral of Anthony Lionel Adamson takes place on Thursday, December 28th, 2017 at St. Aidan’s Anglican Church, Bathsheba, St. Joseph where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for the service. The cortege will then proceed to St. Joseph Parish Churchyard for the interment.


The Organist and members of the church choir are asked to attend.

Flowers may be delivered to Alvin Hinkson’s Funeral Home, St. Elizabeth Village, St. Joseph no later than 2:15 p.m. on Thursday.

The body of Anthony Lionel Adamson will repose for viewing at the church from 2:30 p.m. until the start of the service.

  • Stop all the clocks
    Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead, Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong' The stars are not wanted now, put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.