The Worst Disaster in Jamaica Since The Destruction of Port Royal by a Earthquake in 1692, Was Hurricane Charlie in 1951

In August 1951 Jamaica saw a disaster which was almost equivalent to the earthquake of  Port Royal in 1692, Hurricane Charlie swept through the island killing hundreds of people and left thousands homeless, it was the worst disaster for 70years on the island.  It was still the time of British rule and the people of Jamaica were left to suffer the consequences. 

Money was being collected here in England to help the Jamaican people.  I received a letter from a poor relative of mine asking for help.  At this time I was working in a large furniture factory in North London and because of my concerns about the hurricane, I discussed it with my work colleagues.

 Although the factory employed about 120 people only two of us were black, myself and an African who worked in the basement as a stoker.  The managing director of the firm was Mr Bert Segal a Jewish gentleman who had taken to me and knew of my political activities and supported me, and used to call me into his office each Thursday when he would educate me about Jewish history.  He felt he could hold a conversation with me because I was intelligent and he appreciated what I was doing in my spare time to help my people.  

When he heard about this letter he called me into his office. ‘Young  Stennett’ he said ‘ I hear you have some problems in Jamaica and you have a letter asking for help..  May I see the letter?  After reading the letter, he said he wanted to do something about it, as in the past there had been collections by the workers for other causes and I had always shown support.  He said it was my turn to be helped.  He immediately called his secretary into the office and directed her to draw up a document to circulate around the factory floor in order to collect money to help my relative in Jamaica.  He started the collection by giving £500 which was a lot of money at that time, and sent one of the office staff around the factory collecting whatever my colleagues could afford, no matter how small the donation. 

 As I said there were only two black people working in that factory and I had become close to the African employee, each lunchtime we would sit together in the basement where we would talk and share sandwiches.   Apparently this man had been a medical doctor who had been in the Army in the same battalion as Mr Segal but because he had been a doctor he was an officer and ranked above Mr Segal, they were not exactly friends but acquaintances. 

This doctor was married to an English nurse but after he had been demobbed from the Army he and his wife committed offences by performing illegal abortions and for this he was struck off and could no longer practise as a doctor.  Mr Segal had helped him by giving him a job as a stoker. 

The document for collecting the money went to everyone who worked in the factory and just under a £1,000 was collected.  When I arrived at work the following day Mr Segal called me into his office. ‘Have you got the envelope the letter came in? Yes I replied Why?  Could you bring the envelope in tomorrow? I hope you have not lost it.   

When I asked him why he had wanted to see the envelope, Mr Segal was reluctant to tell me.  His words were ‘You will be very hurt to know the reason why, I do not want to hurt you. 

You see, there has been a rumour going around the factory, that you wrote the letter about the Hurricane to obtain money for yourself.  I was completely shocked, and wanted to know where this rumour came from, and threatened unless I was told I was prepared to sue the Company for defamation of character.   

Mr Segal looked at me with a half smile on his face knowing fully well I could not sue his company, which was when he said to me well if you must know it is the stoker your friend in the basement.  He showed me the list of names of all who contributed, only one mans name was missing which was my friend. 

I noted that next to the Africans name there was no donation so I asked Mr Segal why.  Apparently because he was in the basement he had been the last person to be approached with the collection sheet.  On seeing the amount of money that had been collected he requested to see Mr Segal in his office where he accused me of fraud, saying the letter about the Hurricane had been written by me.  All the white employees had done their best and given what they could, but this one black man – my kind – had decided to discredit me and accuse me of a criminal offence. 

Imagine how I felt, my entire body went numb; I did not know what had hit me.  I left the office in a daze took my coat and went straight home.  I had to cross Islington High Street but not knowing where I was I almost walked straight into a moving bus; how the driver stopped that bus I will never know. 

 I refused to have anything to do with the money, but asked Mr Segal to send it to the Colonial Office, which had an official collection point; my distant relatives in Jamaica never saw a penny of that money. 

That same week I had spent some time in organising a Dance at the Holborn Hall, in aid of the disaster.  I employed Charlie Brown a Jamaican Boxer known as the ‘Jamaican Carnero’ at the gate.    The night before the dance started I had a shock, a white enemy of mine whom I had some misunderstanding with which had led to a fight, which I won, was very annoyed and promised he would have his revenge. 

That night he appeared, while we were organising to prepare for the dance, to my greatest surprise he walked up put his arms around me squeezed me and shook my hand.  On seeing the horror on my face, he said don’t worry you are doing a good job and I am here to help in whatever way I can. 

 The hall was packed with people, but at the end of the evening when the dance was over and the takings at the gate had been calculated, the amount of takings did not represent even half the number of people in the hall to pay for the Hall.  When I asked the reason for this I was told the gate man Carnero was collecting half the entrance fee, which he pocketed. 

He earned far more from this dance than what was raised for the victims of the hurricane.  I began to realise the kind of people I was dealing with and even now things have not changed.  We still do not care much for each other, which is partly why we have made such little progress in this country, and we never will.