Jones, Calvin St. Clair

Jones, Calvin St. Clair
09 Aug
2018

Calvin St. Clair Jones J.P., age 90, better known as "Pretty Boy", of Kingsland Terrace, Christ Church, faithful Member of the Vauxhall Methodist Church Family and Men's Fellowship, Husband of Dorothy Jones, Father of Norma Peries-Cumberbatch of the U.S.A., Nigel and David Jones - both of the U.K., Grandfather of Gareth and Gavin Peries, Great-Grandfather of Devin and Gavin-Troy Peries, Uncle of Eulise, Ricodean and Rudolph Breedy, Joan Jones and the late Alfred Jones, Great Uncle of many, Father-in-law of Dalton Cumberbatch of the U.S.A., Brother-in-law of Ly King and many others of the U.S.A., Relative of the Clarke's family of Vauxhall and the U.K., Charles Jones and family of Sheraton Park, the Ward family, Tony and Juan Trotman, Friend of Bernard Seale, Kenrick Forde, John Jackman, Dennis Russell, Sybil Jones, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Eversley, Martin and Felicite Bell and family and many others.


A Service of Thanksgiving for the life of Calvin St. Clair Jones J.P. takes place on Tuesday, July 24th, 2018 at 2:00 p.m. at the Vauxhall Methodist Church, Adams Castle, Christ Church, where relatives and friends are asked to meet, followed by the interment at the Christ Church Cemetery.

The Organist, Choir, Members of the Men's Fellowship are asked to attend.

Flowers may be sent to E. Pamela Small Funeral Home, "The Lawns", Vauxhall, Christ Church, on Tuesday, July 24th, 2018 no later than 12:30 p.m., or may be delivered to the Vauxhall Methodist Church, Adams Castle, Christ Church before the start of the service.


Visitation takes place in the Chapel of E. Pamela Small Funeral Home, "The Lawns", Vauxhall, Christ Church from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 pm. on Monday.

Funeral Arrangements Entrusted To: E. Pamela Small Funeral Services

  • 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.