Jamaicans recently celebrated the 100th anniversary of the birth of the beloved Louise Bennett-Coverley, ‘Miss Lou’ who probably ranks among the top three best known names to Jamaicans of all ages. But in spite of her enormously popular and well-known public persona, it is remarkable how little we know about the person she was behind the glare of stage and screen and the mike. Miss Lou was, in fact, a very private person and only a few of her contemporaries who are alive today like Barbara Gloudon and Lois Kelly Barrow can claim to have known her really well.
One person who was really fond of Miss Lou but alas, is no longer with us, was Linda Gambrill and thirteen years ago in 2006 she wrote a warm personal tribute to Miss Lou entitled
BOONOONOONOS. Jamaica GlobalOnline is grateful to Linda Gambrill’s husband Tony, for allowing us to share this personal piece with readers.
BOONOONOONOS
BY
LINDA GAMBRILL
Miss Lou and Eric were guests at our wedding up in the hills near Newcastle, thirty-six years ago. I wore a copy of my grandmother’s wedding dress, Barry Chevannes sang “Ruth and Naomi”, and Buddy and I swirled in the quadrille, star columnist, Stella, stated that caviar rubbed shoulders with salt fish and ackee, my three sisters looked so beautiful with their long hair, and Miss Lou and Eddie Thomas (the best man) taught the Gordon Town mento band “ Here Comes The Bride.” Soon after, Tony, my husband and I came to live in a teeny one bedroom, ivy covered cottage up on Enfield Road, Gordon Town, which we rented from Miss Lou. Through the kitchen window after a heavy rain, you could see the mist creeping over the mountain. On an early Sunday morning you could hear women singing, all dressed up in white, coming down Penfield Road to baptism at the river bank; at another time carrying cakes to a wedding. On a Saturday night, Mr. Savage with his donkey staggering up the hill, cursing every bad word imaginable and stopping at the corner by our bedroom for a rest…. a few days later he would send me Resurrection Lilies. To us romantics, it was a magical time and a special place, so after consulting with our landlady, Miss Lou, we called the cottage Boonoonoonoos.
We were privileged to enter into a unique circle of friends who lived in Gordon Town and who were all connected with Miss Lou and Eric. Miss Ivy, Eric’s sister, a gracious lady, lived in a house below us. Then there was dear Mother Coverley, who loved to bake us cakes, especially carrot cake but she usually forgot the sugar. The indomitable Lois Kelly-Barrow (known simply as Barrow) was Miss Lou’s dearest friend and stage colleague. It was a treat for me to be in a play “Paradise Street” which Tony wrote and in which both Miss Ivy and Lois alternated as the leading lady. We also met Ancille and Barbara Gloudon, Lorna Goodison, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, Mrs. Simon, the postmistress, Miss Little the shopkeeper, Mrs. Parkes, the owner of “El Paso”……Miss Lou and Eric knew everyone in the area, she was “the queen” of Gordon Town.
Going to visit Miss Lou up at her house was not an easy matter. The hub of the house seemed to be her bedroom from where she conducted the events of the day. “Come in mi chile”, there she was in her house dress seated in a large comfy chair in front of her old four-poster bed looking out on to the hills. There was a window seat in front of her where you sat, and there was a clutter of caroches and papers all around, mostly written in her flowery script and some faithfully typed by her assistant, Valerie, from the village. We would settle down and both have a cigarette – she smoked Matterhorn – although she always seemed bronchial and was always wrapping up her throat or chest, fearful of catching a cold. In the middle of our conversation you noticed she was looking around for something, a cry of “pickney!” went out and from the cavernous house, one of Miss Lou’s children would arrive and be asked to find some piece of clothing needed for a meeting later, or a page hidden among the various things, perhaps a vital end of a poem. Then a little later perhaps, the phone rang, someone wanting an interview, much laughter and chatter, or a university student needing guidance; she would always oblige. “Miss Lou, I have to go.” “Hold on little mi love.” And then inevitably Eric (Coverley as she called him) would arrive pipe in mouth to ask her something…..and sometimes he would go down memory lane and chat about how he discovered her and encouraged her career and how he had to win her mother’s approval….and if you were lucky she would join in and remind him of shared experiences, it would come like a play between them. “Remember the time when you managed those visiting evangelists and they owed you”…much laughter from Eric “and we heard they were leaving the island that day, so we rushed down to Myrtle Bank” ..Miss Lou bawls out “Coverley see dem de” and they both collapse in wonderful laughter. Miss Gladys would wander into the bedroom to find out about dinner or Gracie was called to check on Miss Robb, Miss Lou’s mother who lived in the room beside her’s and whom she adored. Perhaps Desmond may want to know what time to take her to the theatre. One day after at least two hours of being there I asked her how many people lived in the house. She gave out one of her sighs and then her laugh; she just loved having people around her so the door was always open.
When our first daughter was born, we had no name for her, so the task of naming her went around our friends and family, a book was bought, a list of names produced, soon I had to go to UC to finalize the registration. Miss Lou arrived at Boonoonoonoos and in her inimitable way announced, “no fret mi chile, call di pickney been bud!”. We both dissolved into laughter. We called her Ashley. But the name stuck and a couple of years later I started a small cottage industry in the village making, among other things, a little cloth doll named Beenybud and writing a series of children’s books about a little girl, “Beenybud” who lives in rural Jamaica…thanks to Miss Lou.
One day, news came down to me from Miss Olive that Miss Lou was not well. I went up the hill to see her. There she was lying down in her bed with many sweaters and scarves wrapped around her throat and chest and a rather scary tie-head with all sorts of bush sticking out from under it. She looked bad and in a very feeble voice she said “ dengue mi love.” It took the laughter from her for weeks. Miss Lou was a believer in old time bush remedies. I also remember when I was prop mistress in Brooklyn for Air Jamaica’s travelling show “ Come Home To Jamaica” and Faith D’Aguilar lost her voice. There was much panic among the cast as she was to perform that night to a full audience. Miss Lou and Lois took charge. They fixed her up with some concoction which she was persuaded to drink and wrapped up her throat with various remedies…. she sang like a bird that night. What amazed me was how nervous Miss Lou was, waiting in the wings…and then the cue, she did a delicate glide across the stage to centre, held up her arms and gave a warm laugh. She was home.
One of my fondest memories is going down the hill to Mona in Miss Lou’s blue Volvo. At Papine, due to the traffic congestion she had to slow down and all of a sudden I heard “ Lawd see Miss Lou de” and people came up to see her in a most respectful way. They just wanted to reach out to her, to touch her and she would sigh or smile or say something kind and I saw the love.
The 80s came and a lot of things changed. After she left I would call her from time to time but the magic circle had been broken, the world I had been privileged to touch was gone. Earlier this year, Buddy, Sissy, Lois, Tony and I were having lunch at our house and we felt to call her….she sounded a little old and sad. Miss Lou without her Coverley wasn’t whole. We tried to be cheerful… “Come home”. “Ah mi chile” and as usual she sang in her loving far away voice, “walk good on you way me darling, just walk good.”
