Mayers, Frederick

Mayers, Frederick
27 Feb
2017

Frederick Mayers, age 94, of 1st Avenue Green Hill, St. Michael, member of the Church of the Resurrection and the Barbados Overseas Resettlement Association, Husband of Gracie Mayers of Gracie’s Fashions, Father of Elaine Smith, Dr. Sylvester Carrington, Yvonne Carrington, Cheryl Mayers and Heather Austin - all of the U.S.A., Grandfather of seven of the U.S.A., Great-grandfather of five , all of the U.S.A., Sabeon, Seaon, Sean and Tyrique Webster, Uncle of Hugh, Sherrod and Darcas Scantlebury, Sheila Taylor, Carston and Keith Cumberbatch, Brother-in-law of Vivian Brewster, Friend of many

The funeral of Frederick Mayers leaves Gabriel Edghill’s Funeral Home, 102 Cane Garden, St. Thomas on Wednesday, February 22nd, 2017 at 2:00 p.m. for St. Matthews Anglican Church, Jackmans, St. Michael, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for the service, followed by the burial.


The Organist and members of the church choir are asked to attend.

Flowers may be sent to Gabriel Edghill’s Funeral Home no later than 1:30 p.m. on Wednesday.

Bus Transportation would be provided at 2:30 p.m. from the Church of the Resurrection to the St. Matthews Anglican Church and back.

Viewing of the body takes place in the Chapel of Gabriel Edghill’s Funeral Home from 12:00 noon until 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday.

  • 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.