Duane Johnson (Son)

Entered December 16, 2020 from Markham

Your are my Dad, my Shining Star, my Guiding Light, my Patriarch, and Protector.
My love for you knows no bounds, my devotion to you is endless, and will be the keeper of your memory forever.
Rest in eternal peace in the graces of the Lord my wonderful Father and until we meet again.
Loved deeply, sincerely and unconditionally, your son, Duane.

Jason A Johnson (Son)

Entered December 16, 2020 from Bowmanville

Rest in peace my father, my friend. I will be the father to my children that you were to me, and put more out into the world than I take from it. Forever in my heart.

Keith Vieira (Friend)

Entered December 16, 2020

Condolence to the family and hid bless

Andrew DeSa (Cousin)

Entered December 16, 2020 from Playa Hermosa Costa Rica

Rest in peace.

Carl DeAbreu, Debbie Blount. (Friends)

Entered December 16, 2020 from Scarborough.

May he R.I.P, Keeping you all in our prayers.

In 1962, on our first day on the job at Sprostons Limited, Guyana Engineers and Shipbuilders in Georgetown, I was introduced to Cecil in the office. We were both Steamship Representatives and Port Suppliers for foreign ship owners who were managed by another specialized branch of Sprostons. Back then, the year 2020 in Canada was furthest from both our minds and our future plans. Little did we know.

The peaceful, often tranquil and very fun days in our birth country were numbered, except that we were all left to guess what that number was. ‘Political Awareness’ had apparently arrived a few short years before and a strange feeling of uncertainty suddenly and permanently occupied our lives. Too soon, upstart local leaders began convincing scattered pockets of ‘awakening’ citizenry that British Guiana’s colonial rulers urgently needed to leave the country. They were now being described as the enemy among other, vile names. Racism’s roots were already sown and growing deep in a land of 6 distinct race groups who have always co-existed peacefully. To prospective immigrants worldwide, signs of alarm and possible impending doom must be the same or at least close enough. By the decades’ end, both Cecil and I, with our respective families, had re-settled in Canada.

Last Sunday December 13, Cecil’s sudden passing brought the shock and grief that only comes with unexpected personal loss, even as it prompted endless memories of great times together. Looking back, our lives were mainly guided by years of friendship and unspoken understanding, sadly interrupted by this recent event bringing such irreplaceable loss. After this current health crisis becomes a distant memory, we plan to resume our celebration of life, with Cecil specially in mind.

A hostile and uninvited intruder called Covid-19 has decreed that I could not deliver this statement personally, as being diabetic I am described as ‘Immuno-compromised’. I am 85 per cent less likely to survive a full blown Covid-19 attack. If I know you Cecil, you’d rather that we wait a while before we all get together for you. Meanwhile, we all know precisely where you are heading on this trip. Your destination would likely remind you of a peaceful and tranquil place you once knew, except that this place has roads that are all paved with good intentions, not to mention some special people you have not seen in a while. God Speed, brother.

George Bettencourt, December 18, 2020