2026-10-20T23:58:00+00:00 Zend_Feed_Writer https://ramblebahamas.org/ Ramble Bahamas https://ramblebahamas.org 2016-10-18T20:02:29+00:00 2018-09-17T06:42:52+00:00 https://ramblebahamas.org/items/show/8 Jessica Dawson & Tracey Thompson No social movement or set of political ideas could lay sole claim to the grassy expanse of the Southern Recreation Grounds. At mid-century, community leaders and politicians filled that open canvas – commonly called “Gov’ment Ground” – with calls for reform in areas as varied as workers’ rights, women’s rights, racial equality, and electoral fairness. These notions, rising as murmurs in private homes and meeting spaces, found full expression at the Southern Recreation Grounds before audiences that climbed to thousands at the height of popular agitation for change. Not only ideas stood on display: leaders who had earned their stripes as public speakers in lesser locales could showcase their knowledge and test their eloquence on this premier stage for political expression. The park boomed with voices raised to share information, to agitate for expanded rights, and to inspire civic engagement on behalf of the Women’s Suffrage Movement, the Bahamas Federation of Labour, the Progressive Liberal Party, and more. The Grounds offered a space of refuge too. It embraced the crowd that sought it out on “Black Tuesday” in 1965 after mace and hourglass had quit the House of Assembly. By the 1960s, the Grounds reigned as the established home of the whole progressive movement. To study the road to Majority Rule is to call to mind “Gov’ment Ground.” That the Grounds should play so central a role in community political assertion could have come as no surprise. For decades the park had offered a hub for shared recreation, spiritual life, and exposure to local and world affairs. Bands played concerts featuring classical music and calypso music, and audiences came to sit and listen. Cricket teams would practice throughout the week to compete on Sunday afternoons. As softball and baseball grew in popularity, those sports also found a home. Basketball would advance, in time, to occupy the western corner of the Grounds. Churches and cathedrals hovered within walking distance of the Grounds, including ones headed by religious leaders like Reverend H.W. Brown of Bethel Baptist Church who encouraged their congregations to play a part in civic matters. Of a Sunday morning, after Mass, public intellectuals thrashed out issues of moment at home and abroad, older men schooled younger men in the values and lore of the community, and elders coached young people about their role in the life of the polity. Stately silk cotton trees, standing like sentinels along the eastern, southern, and western flanks of the park, used their silhouettes to shade those debates and exchanges and lent stature and grace to the setting. Teaching, learning, mentoring – all were hallmarks of the milieu, for astride the northern edge of the Grounds stood the Western Junior School and the Western Senior School, two institutions which nursed future leaders of the colony and the nation, and in company with them stood the Southern Public Library, established in 1951 and later known as the Lillian G. Weir-Coakley Public Library, which came to be utilized by students and public alike. In view of its central location, its tradition of service, and its august presence, for the Grounds to answer the call to political commitment at mid-century was a natural response. After 1967 had ushered in Majority Rule, the Grounds continued to be a center of recreation, reflection, and education. But while the park fulfilled many community needs through the twentieth century, none had the lasting impact of its historic role in mid-century politics. One echo today of that notable role is the Randol Fawkes Labour Day Parade which features marching bands and Junkanoo performers. On occasion this parade makes its terminal point the Southern Recreation Grounds. There government officials and union leaders give speeches, recalling rituals of discourse and oratory that governed the park half a century ago. For more (including 6 images and 3 sound clips), view the original article. 2016-10-17T19:53:28+00:00 2018-09-17T06:42:52+00:00 https://ramblebahamas.org/items/show/7 Jessica Dawson & Tracey Thompson During the Middle Ages, clergy wielded the mace offensively to conquer their enemies without shedding blood. In what would become a memorable year in the evolution of the Bahamas’s House of Assembly, Lynden Pindling would untether the institution’s mace, the symbol of parliamentary authority, and call for a transfer of power to the citizenry in a defining moment for the Bahamian people. Located in the heart of downtown Nassau, the Bahamas House of Assembly stands among a triad of Public Buildings in Parliament Square on the southern side of Bay Street. This coral pink structure, an excellent representation of British colonial architecture, was erected in 1816 by Loyalist refugees from the new United States of America. Today the House consists of members elected by the people as well as a Speaker elected by members of the House, and is charged with legislating for the peace, order, and good government of The Commonwealth of The Bahamas. Nearly three centuries and countless changes have shaped both the physical structure and the constitutional authority of the Assembly. The first House of Assembly, convened in Nassau at the home of Mr. Samuel Lawford on the 29th day of September in 1729, consisted of twenty four members elected by two hundred and fifty individuals who were male, free, and white. The House continued to meet at private homes and in the former courthouse until 1815 when the Public Building which now hosts the body was completed. A 1799 Act mandated House of Assembly electors to be free white males over the age of twenty-one who were of Protestant faith and who owned no fewer than two hundred acres of land. Notable changes which would reshape the House of Assembly occurred in 1807 when free blacks became able to vote for the first time; in 1834, when the Emancipation Act took effect and four blacks were elected to the Assembly; and 1962, when women, together with those men over the age of twenty-one who lacked ownership of real property, first exercised newly-won rights to vote. April 27th, 1965, commonly known as ‘Black Tuesday,’ marks another milestone in the life of the House of Assembly. On that day Lynden Pindling, then Leader of the Opposition, would symbolically return power to the people by tossing the Speaker’s Mace through a second-storey window of the House of Assembly as thousands of Bahamians waited expectantly outside the House. Pindling’s words, scripted by years of struggle between the governing United Bahamian Party and the opposing Progressive Liberal Party over undemocratic electoral structures and practices, filled the chamber. “This is the symbol of authority,” Pindling reportedly declared, “and authority on the island belongs to the people; and the people are outside. Yes, the people are outside and the Mace belongs outside, too.” Fellow legislator Milo Butler followed suit by sending the Speaker’s hourglass tumbling from the same window. PLP Members proceeded to exit the House of Assembly and were welcomed by the cheers of thousands waiting below on Bay Street. Pindling led the crowd in a sit-down demonstration which would be met with police mobilization, a reading of the Riot Act, and thirteen arrests. Eventually the crowd would retreat to the Southern Recreation Grounds. Black Tuesday set in motion waves of political action which would crest twenty-one months later amid keen suspense. Once again the House of Assembly supplied the stage for memorable events. January 10th, 1967 witnessed the election of 18 Members of the House for the United Bahamian Party and 18 Members of the House for the Progressive Liberal Party. Four days later, on January 14th, as a result of decisions taken by Independent Member Alvin Braynen and Labour Party Member Randol Fawkes the Governor would invite the Progressive Liberal Party to form a government. On February 9th, the doors of the House would open for its first session in which Government Business would be led by African-descended rather than European-descended legislators. Thus did the House of Assembly play host to the advent of Majority Rule. For more (including 6 images and 3 sound clips), view the original article. 2016-10-03T21:05:13+00:00 2020-08-24T03:06:43+00:00 https://ramblebahamas.org/items/show/6 Jessica Dawson & Tracey Thompson Today a barren parking lot rests on East Street in downtown Nassau, across from an historic police station and a short walk from the parliament building.  In that parking lot once stood, half a century ago, a vibrant hotel: the Carlton House. At the Carlton, calypso music would waft from the hotel’s windows, beguiling patrons and passersby. There a young singer and songwriter named Ronnie Butler would launch his music career. Originally the Rozelda Hotel, the property underwent renovation and rebranding in the late 1950s and resurfaced as the Carlton House, a trendy hotel which touted its “Iron Bar” and celebrated its location “[j]ust off Rawson Square, around the corner from everything!”  “It’s smart to meet at the new Carlton House,” announced its management. “Air-conditioned. Newly decorated. Featuring Bahamian cuisine.”[1] The proximity of the Carlton to the House of Assembly along with the privacy available and the libations at hand would make it a natural meeting spot for parliamentarians. And indeed, beyond offering music and hospitality, the Carlton House would host the formation and ongoing consultation and activity of the United Bahamian Party. On the first of March 1958, the United Bahamian Party stepped on the political stage, presenting itself through public media and publishing a wide-ranging twenty-point platform. The twenty-one charter members of the new political party reflected the seasoned white business class, informally christened the “Bay Street Boys.” The twenty one doubled as politicians and were all already members of the House of Assembly. Of their cohort, Roland Symonette, a wealthy businessman from the island of Eleuthera with interests in construction, shipping, and other industries took his place as leader and would go on to serve as the first premier of The Bahama Islands.  While Symonette was the leader of the party, another individual, Stafford Sands, cemented his profile as a multi-faceted visionary whose role in advancing the Party’s economic plan was central. As Chairman of the Development Board and Minister of Tourism, Sands orchestrated The Bahamas’s transition from an elite island destination into a titan of mass tourism. As Minister of Finance he masterminded The Bahamas’s migration from the sterling area to the dollar pool and secured near parity between Bahamian and United States currencies.  The remaining nineteen members of the new political party together exercised potent influence over the lives of Bahamians sprinkled through much of the archipelago. The twenty-point platform of the United Bahamian Party included “enactment of new labour legislation to permit all workers in the Colony who wish to do so to join Trade Unions.”[2] The provision was timely, for industrial relations in the colony were then a burning political issue. Just six weeks prior to the platform’s release, on January 13th media headlines had roared: “STRIKE HITS, Violence Reported; Economy Threatened.”[3] The question of who it was who would be allowed to ferry passengers between hotels and the airport had set at odds the Bahamas Taxi Cab Union, on one hand, and private hotels and private tour companies on the other. The Bahamas Federation of Labour as well as the opposition party in the legislature, the Progressive Liberal Party, had rallied in support of the taxi cab drivers. Strikes called in sympathy with the Taxi Cab Union had spread to other industries, affecting essential services like garbage collection and water and electricity supplies, with the Bahamas Electricity Corporation issuing a notice to customers cautioning: “[d]ue to the present emergency customers are asked to exercise every economy in the use of electricity,”[4]. The tourist industry, which was central to the economy, had ground to a standstill during this, the height of the winter season, with walkouts affecting an array of tourist establishments, including the Carlton House.[5]  The United Bahamian Party issued its platform barely four weeks after the general strike had run its course. Arguably – views at the time differed sharply – the strike had accelerated the formation of the Party and had helped to shape its platform. In any event, together the strikes and the formation of the new political party made the winter of 1958 a signal moment in Bahamian political life. After its election loss in 1967, the United Bahamian Party ultimately melted away. Some individuals, like Stafford Sands, left The Bahamas altogether, while others remained active politically, incorporated into yet a further political undertaking called the Free National Movement.  Like the United Bahamian Party, the Carlton House too passed from view. It was demolished and in its place now sits an empty parking lot, a hollow reminder of a once commanding and still historic political party. [1] The Nassau Guardian, November 28, 1957 pg. 6 [2] The Nassau Guardian, March 1-2, 1958, pg. 1. [3] The Nassau Guardian, January 13, 1958 [4] The Nassau Guardian, January 14, 1958, pg. 3. [5] The Nassau Guardian, January 13, 1958, pg. 11. For more (including 8 images and 3 sound clips), view the original article. 2016-10-03T19:24:30+00:00 2018-09-17T06:42:52+00:00 https://ramblebahamas.org/items/show/4 Jessica Dawson & Tracey Thompson On Meeting Street in an area of New Providence known as Delancy Town sits a striking white edifice, its façade complete with stained glass imagery depicting the ascension of Christ and a steeple pointing towards the heavens. Arcades span the entranceway on either side of the church, drawing the eye upwards towards twin crosses ensconced in arches welcoming all who pass. This is Bethel Baptist Church, and for over two centuries it has anchored the spiritual life of part of New Providence’s “Over The Hill” community. Founded in 1790 by Samuel Scriven and Prince Williams, both of them men who knew slavery’s chains, today’s Bethel Baptist Church first took shape as a wooden chapel named Bethel’s Meeting House. The name “Meeting House” was a careful choice, since prevailing law forbad black men from holding positions of leadership within a church. As a venture solely owned and operated by such men, Bethel’s Meeting House was exceptional. Meeting Street, on which the modern Bethel Baptist Church resides, draws its name from and preserves the legacy of this pioneering church. Bethel, which still occupies the historic Meeting Street location, welcomed Reverend Dr. Harcourt W. Brown as its pastor in February of 1939. Its congregation would swell in size from one hundred to two thousand souls during four decades of Reverend Brown’s stewardship. From the start, Reverend Brown called for a more open and a more just community. In the struggle for social change that gained strength at mid-century, he would rise as the most outspoken and courageous of the Baptist clergy. Interweaving a message of human rights and religious faith that resonated in New Providence and throughout the islands, Reverend Brown spoke at the Southern Recreation Ground alongside political leaders like Lynden Pindling and Milo Butler; he took part in a delegation which presented to the United Nations in 1965 the grievances of the people; he lent counsel to the leadership of the insurgent Progressive Liberal Party; and he worked to rally support for that Party across the archipelago. In 1962, on the eve of a general election, at the request of the Party it was he who invited Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. to serve as the guest speaker at a “mammoth service on the Sunday night before the election”. “[O]ur conversation,” he wrote, acknowledging the hazard of the times while encouraging further consultation by telephone, “can be conducted in such a veiled way that any listener might not catch on to what we mean.” At the dawn of the Majority Rule era, Reverend Brown was the first Chaplain of the House of Assembly. In that position he, together with Bethel, would continue to lead by example and to espouse a vision of an equitable and inclusive society. For more (including 9 images and 2 sound clips), view the original article. 2016-10-03T18:39:29+00:00 2020-08-24T03:08:19+00:00 https://ramblebahamas.org/items/show/2 Jessica Dawson & Tracey Thompson April 27, 1965 sealed a place in history for the Mace of the Bahamas’s House of Assembly. On that day Lynden Pindling, Leader of the Opposition in that parliamentary chamber, tossed the object from an upper window into the street below in a bid to galvanize supporters to press for electoral change.  But while ‘Black Tuesday,’ as the day was later dubbed, lifted the Mace to its greatest prominence, the Mace had already won for itself a storied, albeit lesser-told, past. Students of that past have speculated that the current mace of the House of Assembly was purchased from the Commons House of Assembly of the Province of South Carolina. Indeed British Loyalists did appropriate the mace of South Carolina during the American Revolution and did later offer it for sale to the House of Assembly. The prospect of such a transaction is captured in the records of The House of Assembly for Friday, 25th June, 1790.  Mr. McKenzie moved that John Wells, Esquire, be empowered and authorized to purchase from the person or persons having custody of the silver mace of the late Assembly of the Province of South Carolina and that this House will provide for any sum or expenses incurred by reason of said purchase.  However the transaction was never consummated.[1] What is more, evidence of an alternative provenance of the House of Assembly’s mace is suggested by an analysis of the object carried out in 1902 when the object travelled to London to be regilded and repaired. By that evaluation, the object was crafted in 1799. Witness a letter dated 23 February, 1903 and addressed by Harcourt G. Malcolm, who in 1914 would become Speaker of the House, to J. S. Churchill,[2] Colonial Secretary of the Bahama Islands: Last summer when our mace was in London for the purpose of being regilded and repaired, it was inspected at the Assay Office. The officials of that office fixed the date of its manufacture at 1799 . . . . The date given by the Assay Office was also corroborated by Mr. W, H. St. John Hope, of the Society of Antiquaries.  By 1799 the Province of South Carolina had long since relinquished its colonial identity and had outfitted itself in national garb; and the authorization given in 1790 to purchase a mace that had belonged to the province’s Assembly could not have had in view an object which had not yet been made. And so the mace which drew all gazes in the House of Assembly on April 27, 1965 surely came to the House from another source. While the journey taken by the Mace from that source to its seat in the House lies partly in shadow, the makers of the Mace stand in full view. From the same letter written by Harcourt Malcolm to the Colonial Secretary we glean information about the manufacture of the Mace. [T]he records of [the Assay Office] also disclosed the fact that it had been made by Lewis Pantin, a small worker, whose address was 62 St. Martin's le Grand, at present part of the site of the General Post office building Lewis Pantin I and Lewis Pantin II, goldsmiths and silversmiths based in London, were part of the second and third generations of Huguenots who had fled Rouen in France in the 1600s amid ongoing persecution of the country’s Protestants by the country’s Catholic majority. The arrival in England of the Pantin family along with other highly skilled silversmith Huguenots would forever mark the style and technique of English silver.  The landmark day in the life of the Mace would leave it lying battered on the street below the House of Assembly. On the second floor of the building, labour leader Randol Fawkes would call for business in the House to halt since the object was needed to fill its ceremonial space in front of the Speaker in order for the business of the chamber to carry on. The Mace started Black Tuesday as the symbol of parliamentary authority. By end of day, separated at globe and crown, broken and disjointed, it would offer a metaphor for the business of the House itself. In tandem with the Mace Incident, Opposition members of the House would launch a boycott of the chamber. The boycott would last for months. A new day in the life of the colony would dawn only after still more months of disturbance and fracture. [1] Salley, A. S. 1871-1961. (1917). The mace of the House of Representatives of the State of South Carolina. Columbia, S.C.: printed for The Commission by the State Co.. [2] Presumably J. K. G. T. Spencer-Churchill For more (including 6 images and 1 sound clip), view the original article. 2016-10-03T05:06:19+00:00 2018-09-17T06:42:52+00:00 https://ramblebahamas.org/items/show/1 Jessica Dawson & Tracey Thompson Bahamian history seeps from every inch of the four-storey Reinhard Hotel that occupies the corner of Baillou Hill Road and Tin Shop Corner. Initially designed and constructed by Dr. Claudius Roland Walker and Mrs. Mabel Walker in the 1930s, the hotel furnished the stage for everything from social soirees to local business operation to pivotal moments in Bahamian political history. Perhaps the paramount year in the Hotel’s history was 1967, when the space served as headquarters to the Progressive Liberal Party during the landmark 1967 elections that led to Majority Rule.  At the time of the hotel’s construction, black visitors were prohibited from residing in major hotels owing to their race. The Reinhard Hotel helped to answer this community need and went on to become a prominent social center for the neighborhood, hosting many weddings, parties, and other gatherings as well as offering space for local businesses. Dr. Walker’s own medical office occupied a section of the first floor of the Reinhard Hotel. At that time Dr. Walker was one of only a handful of Bahamian medical practitioners and served many Bahamians as their primary physician. Other businesses that operated on the premises included a hardware store, a restaurant, a pharmacy, and The Voice. A newspaper, The Voice served to educate Bahamians about their rights and held true to the core belief of its editor, Dr. Walker, that education offered the key to political and economic independence. Furthermore, at the same time that The Voice informed the community about current social and political events, its offices served as a meeting place where like-minded Bahamians could meet and discuss change in a welcoming environment at a turbulent time.  The Reinhard Hotel fostered an atmosphere conducive to radical and progressive movements. Not only did The Voice occupy the establishment for nearly two decades but also leaders of the Women’s Suffrage Movement met at the Hotel during the 1950s. In later years the Bahamas Union of Teachers, whose president at the time was Mrs. Mabel Walker, utilized the Hotel as a meeting space where they would work towards better salaries and improved training and recognition for teachers. In 1967, amid the rising chorus of calls for social and political change, the Hotel played host to the Progressive Liberal Party as it spearheaded the thrust to deepen democracy in the then colony. In doing so the Hotel solidified its place in Bahamian history.   For more (including 6 images and 2 sound clips), view the original article.