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I got it as a gift from my grand uncle Dan who lived to a ripe old age of a hundred and one. He was the type of man that believes in developing the land; he had property that occupies a large portion of the country and at age a hundred and one he was of a sound mind still working in the field and planting his garden. He was a decent man and one of the best grand uncles I have ever had. In the summer of 1988, I was 25 years old when they packed me up and send me in to the hills to spend the holiday with my Uncle Dan. I was elated and excited about everything. I just wanted to leave that place and when I got there, there was so much to share. It was like winter in the sun and heavens on the run. It was the perfect place for me, but in the mornings, it was zero degrees, I had to wear warm clothing and cover my head with a knitted cap. The air pressure falls at midnight and I had to wrestle with winter on the hill every night. Uncle Dan was a nice guy and respectful family man; he had a grandson named Booker T and a wife with lots of ingenuity, she took care of me while I was there and she had so much to share; she made delicious food and tell stories of her youth she was fun to be around. Uncle Dan had a set schedule, and a big livestock to supervise. He gets up at three on the dot and we devotion together and read some scripture. His wife usually makes tea before he goes to the field. Booker T had to milk the cows and take the cows to the hills for grazing. He got several buckets of milk and he later sell it for profit in the community and gave away some for free. We went to Sabbath school on Saturday and listen to classical music on Sundays, Uncle San played the guitar very well and his singing made everyone smile. Our schedule was set and my holidays were balanced but things start falling apart when an evacuation warning came forcing everyone to batten up or find a safe place to stay. Uncle Dan led the animal to safety and battened up windows and doors. We then gather around the table and sat quietly waiting for something to happen. A category five hurricane made landfall at noon breaking down trees and pulling down everything around me, the house was intact and Uncle Dan reached in the corner and pulled out an old guitar and starts to sing a strange tune. It wasn’t religious and it wasn’t secular, it was love that brought everyone together. “Hurricane Gilbert mash up Jamaica” We sang together and drown out the sound of the wind, we did not hear anything and when he opened the door, everything was up rooted, the roads were blocked and trees and debris was everywhere but the house we were in stood firm on the hill, not one glass broken nor a sheet of zinc blown off the roof and for one moment everything was sill and we began to sing . The following week I left Mosley hall and Uncle Dan gave me some money and a brand-new guitar as a gift.
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