THE EDITOR, Sir:
WOODFORD PARK is bordered on the east and the north by South Camp Road, the west and south by Arnold Road and Vincent Street. It has always been a quiet working-class community of a few thousand people all industrious and aspiring to a better life. It always seemed immune from the devastating violence which has enveloped our inner-city communities: Some say because of the proximity of Up-Park-Camp and the Headquarters of the Mobile Reserve, but certainly because the people there lived to love and care for each other.
Supporters of the PNP and the JLP lived together in peace and harmony. I cannot forget the aftermath of Hurricane Gilbert as the residents regardless of political or other differences visibly supported each other. This was not an aberration. This was how Woodford Park people lived.
Yes there were political differences but these only manifested themselves in good-natured jiving of each other and verbal arguments during election times.
I was born there. I grew up there. My children were all born and grown there. I have lived there through many elections national and local. I have seen many candidates face each other. Ryan Peralto, Keith Steele, Easton Douglas, Harold Brady, John Junor. They all campaigned with the intensity their political convictions and ambitions dictated.
Never a life was lost, never a house or other property was damaged or destroyed.
As a fervent supporter of the JLP, some of my strongest supporters and friends were "Comrades." We loved, defended and protected each other. Bars and other places of enjoyment enjoyed immense business and popularity because the residents and visitors felt safe. It was the only community where policemen could relax, drink, and play games to their hearts content without fear. They were loved and adored there. One could walk the streets at any hour. Children could play without nervousness.
Suddenly a new and alien culture has overtaken this once idyllic place. Men who grew up played and worked together have become enemies.
Loyalty, love, and camaraderie have been replaced by the tribal distinctions of 'labourites' and 'socialists.' A clearly defined line of demarcation between red and green has been established. Erstwhile friends are attacking each other with guns for the first time in the community's history. The sounds of high-powered weapons permeate the air with frightening frequency. I weep for the lives which have been lost. I weep for the property which has been destroyed.
I weep for the brutal killing of a young man on Anderson Road as he slept in his bed. His only crime was to love and defend his family. I weep for the grief of his mother, sisters and brothers, torn apart by their unfathomable loss. I grieve at the sight of roads once open and welcoming, now blocked with debris. I weep for the many decent residents who cannot sleep at nights for fear of their doors being kicked off and their families murdered. I weep at the fact that this place, once the peaceful home community of stalwarts like Lasco's Lascelles Chin, Jasper Markland and Gladstone Williams of Government Printing Office fame, Consie Walters, renowned journalist and his family, Dr. Rupert Rhodd, Dr. Anthony Vendryes, and Tourism's Carol Guntley-Brady, should now degenerate into yet another killing field.
I weep that the people of Woodford Park should sacrifice their love for each other on the altar of political expediency.
I appeal to the youngsters there. Many of you I held in my arms as babies. Many of you I encouraged to be somebody as you grew up. Put down the guns. Fight for your political party at election times as Woodford Park people have always done, but fight with words, organisation and your votes.
Stop killing your brothers and sisters. One thousand votes are not worth one drop of blood spilled.
Let us return Woodford Park to the peaceful community it was, not so long ago.
I am etc.,
DWIGHT A. NELSON O.D.
Lover of Woodford Park
nelsond@n5.com.jm
98-100 Duke Street
Kingston
Via Go-Jamaica
