by Colin Hyde
On Friday last, Brother Simon Willacey succumbed after a long battle with Type 1 diabetes. A few months ago, his health took a turn for the worse; doctors advised him that his kidneys were barely functioning, and that he should ease up on his work at his farm. At the age of 65, he had done more than enough to retire comfortably. But he was the type of person who would work up to his dying day, though maybe in his later years it would have been based more on principle than on need.
Simon had many triumphs in this life, and he was especially very successful in his field. He took some blows along the way, but never buckled. Though a couple of his investments were destroyed by others, and citrus greening took its toll on him, as it has on so many others in the citrus industry, he never lost his faith in God, his spirit, or his love for his country and people.
Simon Willacey was a special man, much loved, and a giant builder of our country. He was brave, caring, hardworking, honest, and honorable, and always an absolute joy to be around.
Simon’s mom, Elethia, and his single sister, Cordelia, were stabilizing forces in his life. Both his parents were of Jamaican stock. His father, Clarence, was a farmer, Christian preacher, and political activist – NIP to the bone. His father was a strong, hardworking, family man. Simon said he was an extremely serious person. When Simon was a boy, his dad was ambushed and killed.
Sometime after his father died, his mother became the common-law wife of Mr. Ivan Harban. Simon had a lot of respect and affection for his stepfather, and for the step siblings he got from his mother’s union with him.
In the 1960s/70s, most Belizean farmers were content with a few chickens. Simon said when Mr. Harban became his dad, they had hundreds of chickens to care for, and many pigs. He said every morning they had to feed the chickens and pigs and other farm animals, and when they slaughtered animals for the market, they had to deliver it to Dangriga, all before school. Another area where Mr. Harban had a tremendous influence in his life was his education. He said when his stepfather wasn’t working he would hang a hammock under the citrus trees and take out a book. He said it was from his stepfather that he learned to love reading and studying.
Simon became scholarly, and he would study chemistry at Sixth Form, Belize Technical College in Belize City. He wanted to further his studies, and he pursued a scholarship, and all the paperwork was completed and he was just about on his way to go abroad to study when the authorities informed him that they had changed their mind, that they had given the scholarship to someone else. After that huge disappointment, he settled down to being a nurseryman, the best anywhere, and to begin a family.
He excelled as a nurseryman. He once raised cattle, but his ranch wasn’t easily accessed, and he eventually sold it and confined himself to growing plants. He developed a ten or fifteen-acre citrus farm at Blackman Eddy, but his main farm was at Buena Vista, Cayo, where he established a plant nursery, planted coconuts, mangoes, citrus and many other fruit trees, and also established three tilapia ponds. He was a highly sought-after consultant and manager for some of the largest citrus farms in Belize.
On a personal note, my friendship with Simon began in 1978 at Hummingbird Hershey Ltd. (HHL), a cacao farm near the Sibun River. I respected him almost from the first day I met him, and very soon I began to love being around him. Everyone who knew him loved being in his company. He had a huge and beautiful spirit.
Simon was in charge of the nursery at HHL, and I was in charge of plant protection. He was a big talent. I think, I knew he was better at his job than I was at mine. We also shared a love for football. He was a pretty good goalkeeper, and when he retired from playing football he managed the Esperanza football club.
The first time I slept in a home that wasn’t mine or for my parents or one of my relatives was at the Willacey family home, at Mile 17 in the Stann Creek Valley. I’ve never forgotten how at home I felt among his mom and his family. I thought they were the smoothest, coolest people anywhere.
I knew he was sick, but I was surprised when I saw him at the Agric Show this year. I hadn’t seen him in many months, and I had to look at him twice. He was still vital, but he had grown very thin. He stopped by my house later that day and we ate and drank beer and had a great time, as we always did when we met, talking about our personal lives, about the affairs of our country, matters of the world, and stories that particularly interested him that he had read in the Amandala.
Simon was an extra special person. Even though he wasn’t in the best of health, none of us were prepared to let him go. We are still in shock at his passing.
On behalf of Gasper Martinez and Charles Garbutt, Jr., our tightknit little circle of supervisors at the early HHL, sincerest condolences to Simon’s wife, Lorine; his children and stepchildren and grandchildren; and his siblings, especially Peter and Norman.
Simon, we love you, Bro; we won’t stop missing you, and until we meet again, rest in peace.