1962: Miss Jamaica entrants undergo rigorous training in modelling at classes held at the Glass Bucket Club on Wednesday and Friday evenings. The contest takes place at the end of July in time for the winner to take part in the independence celebrations. From left: Patricia Ritch, Marcia Nation, Nolia Skipton, Marlene Murray, Joy Reid, Doreen Turner, Violet and Ruby McGhoo (twins). - File Photos

I was born in the eastern part of the island on August 28, 1962, 22 days after Jamaica gained Independence. I had no idea how they celebrated this historic event, as I was a baby. But as I grew older, I was able to gain an understanding as to why all this happened.

During my childhood years living in a rural community, my father was a minister of religion, builder and architect. My mother was a farmer, dressmaker and housewife. I grew up in an area where everyone knew and looked out for each other. Those were the days when you were sent to your neighbour for a dry coconut and other goodies, and to the shop down the road to credit some goods until the weekend. Those were the days when you had to stand by the roadside for hours to purchase bread from the bread van coming on Fridays, when the butcher was a few chains away and you could get your preferred cut of meat.

Our household consisted of 10 children, five boys and five girls, plus our parents and grandmother. All of us did not live at home at the same time. The older ones were shipped off to Kingston to make a life for themselves and to help to support the younger ones financially.

Simple but fun

I was the last of the girls and had two younger brothers. My brothers and I grew up together. I knew everything about making a fish pot, a sling shot, a cork-and-tar cricket ball, playing the game of cricket, making juice box and sardine pan cars and other things that boys indulge in. To be honest, I was really good at them all. I wasn't interested in dolly house things, as in those days we usually made our dolls from mango seeds and used a piece of stick for the body. Only the rich and famous children had the luxury of a plastic doll.

I have no recollection of pound, shilling and pence, as we started using dollars and cents by the time I was seven years old and going to primary school.

On weekends, it was our duty as children to clean the house so the good old coconut brush and the red Rexo polish were an asset. We did not mind the red fingers and the red knees as we were proud to go down on all four to make a statement. When we were finished, the house was spotless and shiny and whoever wanted to enter had to wipe their feet properly on the crocus bag mat placed at the doorway.

My parents are now deceased and we all moved to Kingston some 28 years ago. If I had the chance to live my life over again, I would start right at that little house on the hill built by my father, where all of us were born and delivered by our grandmother. Forty-seven years is a long time. I have had my share of mishaps and have reached some of my expectations in life, and God knows what else he has in store for me.

1962 Christmas cheer: Nurses and patients at the University Hospital of the West Indies share some Christmas cheer. The Salvation Army toured the hospital, playing and singing Christmas carols. The Salvation Army Band, on Christmas morning, sang Christmas carols, while the band played the music.