Grant, Frank Overton

Grant, Frank Overton
27 Feb
2017

Frank Overton Grant, age 83, of Salmonds, St Lucy, Son of the late Fred and Daphne Grant, Husband of Barbara Grant, Father of Diana, Tony and Barry Grant and Vaper Archer, Stepfather of Maria of the U.K., Grandfather of Thomas and Rebecca Grant, Joel Archer, Asher and Joshua, Brother of Icilma Marshall of the U.S.A., Anthony Grant and the late Aubrey Grant, Uncle of seven, Brother in law of Joyce Grant, Relative of the Grant, Bryan and Yearwood families, Friend of Linda Forde, Martin and Douglas Broome, Randy Bowen, Trevor Hinds and the Norville family..

The funeral of Frank Overton Grant leaves St. John Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy, on Thursday, March 09th 2017 at 1:45 p.m. for St. Lucy’s Parish Church, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving followed by the interment in the churchyard.

The Organist is asked to attend.

Wreaths may be delivered to St. John Funeral Home no later than 1:30 p.m. on Thursday March 9th March 2017.


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 Wednesday, March 8th 2017.


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.

  • 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.