Pondering Percival Alonza Harris, My Paternal Grandfather
Percival Alonza Harris, Lenny’s Father
Monday, February 1, 2021
I decided to take a break from working (directly) on the project today. My parents found an extra copy of a black and white photo of my paternal grandfather, Percival Alonza Harris. I wish I had known him. I feel like part of my personality that is linked to my dad’s personality comes from Percival’s personality. I think of how fortunate my kids are to know both sets of their grandparents. I wonder how Percival would feel about me being named after his wife, Ena Campbell.
Lenny dedicates his photo essay book to Percy. I wonder what their relationship was like. Were they close or was it strained, and especially so after Ena died? Did Lenny choose to dedicate his work to his father out of a sense of respect? Did he do so in order to pay tribute and honor him? I hesitate to ask my dad about the details…
And as I scrutinize the image, I see my dad in Percival’s expression, the side view of his features, his sense of concentration. I strain to see Lenny in his face. When I look at Ena in her wedding dress, I can definitely see Lenny. Her cheeks, her eyes, her smile.
As a graduate student immersed in Caribbean literature, I eagerly sought information about my West Indian heritage. As both of my paternal grandparents passed away well before I was born, I sought him out by writing, by connecting to artifacts, and I was able to participate in a Study Abroad program sponsored by Virginia Commonwealth University (VCA) that brought me to the University of the West Indies on Barbados. While my fellow students explored the beaches and the food, I spent the little free time I had at the Black Rock Department of Archives in St. James. After hours of searching, with the help of a man by the name of Ephrahim, I was able to find our only a little bit of information, information that can now be easily obtained by paying a fee to Ancestry.com. But on August 13, 2001, I used microfiche. I remember almost giving up and then I found him, in Volume 106 on Page 594, for the year 1891. This was what I wrote down in my journal:
Percival A. Harris, Born 4th of January, 1890. Baptized 12th of November, 1890. Percival Alonza. Surname: Harris. Parents, Joseph and Mary Harris. Mother’s Maiden Name: Adams. Abode: Banantyne. Occupation: Coachmen. Minister Officiating: G.J. Hohman. Solemnized in Saint David’s Chapel.
And this is what I found out about his father (Lenny’s grandfather) in Volume 86, on page 413: Marriage records. Joseph Augustus Harris (23, Bachelor) & Mary Adams (20, Spinster), St. George’s, Vauxhall Road (Christ Church). Married April 19, 1884. Parish Church of Christ Church. Witnesses: James W. Bynoe. Joseph Pilgrim.
Okay and then it gets fuzzy. I have names listed but I am not sure who they are. This is what I have written down in my little journal: Fathers’ Names. Joseph Harris. Domestic. Anthony Adams. Labourer.Could they be the fathers of Joseph A. Harris & Mary Adams? Ah. I think so.
And what can I make of it? What thoughts spring to mind? What is revealed?…There were a lot of Josephs on my dad’s side of the family. And a Joseph & Mary…And that is it. I remembered leaving the Black Rock Archives feeling a sense of accomplishment at the same time feeling like I knew next to nothing.
I think again of my own children, of all of the memories they have of their grandparents, how they were held by them as babies, fed by them,nurtured & supported by them, loved by them. I think of how painful loss is, how precious the living are.
