Elliott, Carnetta Ophelia

Elliott, Carnetta Ophelia
26 Feb
2018

Carnetta Ophelia Elliott, of #18 Wilcox, Christ Church formerly of Salisbury and Free Hill, St. George, Mother of Suzanna King, Patrick and Shane Elliott, Grandmother of Joshua and Maisha King, Marissa, Mario, Shaquille and Shakell Elliott, Sister of Ruth Brathwaite, Errol Parris, Marlene Nurse and Heather Corbin, Aunt of Rose, Kennedy and Pamela Brathwaite, Andrew Forde, Jeweline Harris, Dawn Reece, Emelda Bell, Halwin Nurse, Sena Price and Timothy Parris, Mother-in-law of Errol King and Julie-Ann Elliott, Sister-in-law of Anita Parris, Relative of the Johnson, Byer and Parris families, Friend of Gloria King, Eleanor “Jean” Payne, Maria “Ms. Forde” Williams, Marva Downes of the U.S.A. and many others

The funeral of Carnetta Ophelia Elliott leaves Waithe’s Funeral Home, Greens, St. George on Thursday 1st February, 2018 at 2:15 p.m. for St. Jude’s Anglican Church, St. Jude’s Vill, age St. George, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for a service followed by the interment in the churchyard.
The organist and members of the choir are asked to attend.

Floral tributes can be sent to Waithe’s Funeral Home no later than 1:45 p.m. on Thursday.

Online condolences may be sent to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

  • Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
    Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightening they Do not go gentle into that good night.   Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.   Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.