Blackman, Adolphus

Blackman, Adolphus
27 Feb
2017

Adolphus Blackman, age 99, better known as “Sony Medford” of Black Bess, St. Peter and formerly of Taitts, St. James, Son of the late Ida and Hilton Medford, Husband of the late Ernesta Blackman, 

Father of Sylvester, Cecil, McDonald and Valdine Smith, Gwendolyn, Leta, Tyron and Waveney Blackman and Marcia Simmons, Grandfather of Neville Smith, Linda Barrow, Gloria Rock, Lizann and Chaquita Smith, Deanna Webster, Damien and Travis Blackman, Great grandfather of Alisha Smith and four others, Brother of Courtney Medford, Miriam Jordan and the late Sylvia Hinkson, Carlotta Sobers, Cuthbert Hinds and Edgar Jemmott, Uncle of Edeene and Jacqueline Medford, Olarey Sobers, Velma Ifill, Cobin Hinds and many others, Father-in-law of Icilma Smith, Deborah Blackman and Roderick Simmons, Cousin of the late Ervina Blackman, Loretta Richards and Leotta Standford and many others, Relative of the Blackman, Medford, Jordan, Smith and Sobers families, Friend of Brickey Doughlin, Mrs. Gilkes, Michelle Riley, Pearline Alleyne, Shirley, the staff of the Maurice Byer Polyclinic and many others.

The funeral of Adolphus Blackman leaves St. John Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy, on Tuesday, February 28th, 2017 at 12:15 p.m. for St. Peter’s Parish Church, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 2:00 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving. The cortege will then proceed to the St. Peter’s Cemetery for the interment.

The Organist and members of the Church Choir are asked to attend.

Wreaths may be delivered to St. John Funeral Home not later than 12:00 noon on Tuesday.

The body will repose for viewing in the Chapel of St. John Funeral Home from 1:00 p.m. until 3:00 p.m. on Monday.

Fond remembrances and condolences to the family may be directed to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. & This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

  • 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.