Barrow, Keithley Stanmore

Barrow, Keithley Stanmore
01 Jun

Keithley Stanmore Barrow, age 89, better known as “Lajee” or “Keith”, of Ashton Hall, St. Peter and formerly of Massiah Street, St. John and Montreal Canada, member of Maurice Byer Polyclinic Men’s Health and Educational Group and the Northern Group of Returning Nationals, Husband of Gloria Barrow, Father of Keith Selman of Canada, Wayne Butcher and the late Yvette Barrow, Grandfather of Kevin, Robert and Ayanna Selman, Renaldo Depeiza, Nygaya Graham, Sherlon and Shamar Davis, Great-Grandfather of Christian Depeiza and Malachi Davis, Brother of Joyce Jones of Canada, Archibald Knight, Lucille Grant, the late Ronald Knight, Vashti Sobers, Doriel Lovell and Sheila Barrow, Uncle of Anthony Sobers of the U.S.A., Juanita “Joni” Knight, Donna Lovell, Kofi Branch and many others, Cousin of Joan Reid, Kenrick Watson and Lloyd Bennett and many others, Brother-in-law of Winston Headley, Joyce Schooley, Elaine Knight and Livingstone Jones, Father-in-law of Sandra Selman of Canada, Relative of the Rouse, Clarke, Knight and Sobers families, Friend of the Layne, Skinner and Thompson families.

The funeral of Keithley Stanmore Barrow leaves St. John Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy on Wednesday, June 06th, 2018 at 12:15 p.m. for Speightstown Methodist Church, Chapel Street, Speightstown, St. Peter, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 2:00 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving. The cortege will then proceed to St. Peter’s Cemetery for the interment.

The Organist is asked to attend.

Wreaths may be delivered to St. John Funeral Home no later than 12:00 noon on Wednesday.

The body will repose for viewing in the Chapel of St. John Funeral Home from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday.

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.