Hinds, Martin Luther

Hinds, Martin Luther
27 Feb
2017

Martin Luther Hinds, age 72, affectionately known as “Bob”, of Gittens Road, Government Road, St. Michael and formerly of Grape Hall, St. Lucy, former Employee of Clarke and Tucker, Father of Martin and Gail-Ann Griffith, Pedro Hinds and the late Kim Abram of St. Marteen, Grandfather of nine, Bother of Halden Hinds, Rawle, Carlston, the late Carlotta, Wesley and Bentley Hinds, Relative of the Hinds, Griffith, Greaves, Maynard and Edwards families..

The funeral of Martin Luther Hinds takes place on Tuesday, February 28th, 2017 at 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.

Flowers may be delivered to Two Sons Funeral Home no later than 1:15 p.m. on Tuesday.

Viewing of the body takes place at the Church from 2:30 p.m. until the start of the service, during which time floral tributes will commence.

Condolences may be sent to: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or posted at KMJ Transport and Funeral Services on Facebook.

Funeral Services entrusted to: KMJ Transport & Funeral Services, Bridge Gap, Goodland, St Michael

  • 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.