Alkins, Trevor Eugene

Alkins, Trevor Eugene
11 Sep

Age 69, of #25 Jade Circle, Lead Vale, Christ Church, formerly of Enterprise Main Road, Christ Church, former Teacher of the St. Christopher’s Primary School, Christ Church, Son of Ursula Alkins and the late Bertram Alkins, Husband of Vernese Alkins, former Employee of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Medical Records Department, Father of Troy Massiah of the U.S.A., Carla Haynes of the Child Care Board and Andre’ Alkins of CLEMCO Electrical, Grandfather of Tarian Alkins, Kaira and Kendon Haynes and Jaiden Harris, Brother of Cameron, Sylvan, Decourcey and Cecil Alkins, Sonja Brewster, Sharon Sobers and the late Elsa King, Father-in-Law of Eustace Haynes and Tara Alkins, Brother-in-Law of the Gill family, Uncle of many, Relative to the Franklin, Nurse and Alkins families, Special Friend of Shelly and Shekiah Harris, Friend of Dwayne Thomas, Owen, Elson, Levi and many others…………………………………

A Service of Thanksgiving to celebrate the life of Trevor Eugene Alkins will be held on tomorrow (today) Friday, 14th September, 2018 at 3:00 p.m. at the Chapel of Coral Ridge Memorial Gardens, Coral Ridge, Christ Church, followed immediately by the interment in the Frangipani Lawns.

Flowers to be sent to Sonia Craigwell Funeral Services, Glebe Land, St. George no later than 12:30 p.m. on Friday, September 14th, 2018.

Viewing of the body will be held at C. H. Best Funeral Home, St. Martin, St. Philip, from 3:00 p.m. until 5:00 p.m. on Thursday, 13th September 2018.

Professional Services entrusted to Sonia Craigwell 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.