Claude Taylor and daughter, four-year-old Romae.

Exactly eight months have passed since eight residents, of Mill Bank, Portland, were killed in the December 19 market-truck accident in Portland's Rio Grande Valley.

The community that was overrun with mourners and visitors on funeral day is back to its quiet self. The wreaths and flowers on the graves are weather beaten, and there are still no names on the headstones. Another grave, that of the mother of one of the accident victims, has since been added. And the grief that has been blanketing the rustic beauty of this idyllic place seems to be in no hurry to go.

On January 5 and February 2, we discussed the extent of the grief that residents, especially the men in Mill Bank, were facing. Recently, when The Gleaner revisited the com-munity to assess how life had been unfolding since the fatal mishap we caught up with three of them, who, though they have accepted their lot, are still trying to come to grips with their loss.

"Dem man deh a hard-working man, and dem man deh care fi wi. Wi feel it every day. Every time mi memba mi feel sad," Steve Taylor said of his older brother, the late Winston Taylor. Tears still trickle down his face, especially when he remembers the early days of the tragedy. "Mi never know seh mi coulda live until today, mi feel sick, fi weeks mi couldn't eat, jus a taste fi save life, no appetite, grief same way."

And if it weren't for the bad state of the roads, Winston would have been around today, perhaps. This, according to Steve and his brother, Claude, as they believe neglect is to be blamed for Winston's passing.

Moving ahead

Steve Taylor and his daughter, 11-month-old Yahkema.

Yet, life goes on, and there are mouths, including that of an 11-month-old, to feed. So, he goes all over Jamaica selling craft items made of bamboo and plywood. Getting from one place to another is expensive and physically draining, but he is committed to staying the course. "Mi still a move on, mi nah give up, giving up is the last process."

Claude, the youngest of the brothers, is coping well, but, sometimes he feels very depressed. "Every time mi memba, mi just feel left out. Up to night before last night (August 18) mi dream him. And mi say, 'How yu seh yu dead an yu noh dead?'"

The close relationship that they enjoyed, though they had their differences, is what he misses most. "Him a de bigga one, but anyting a jus mi de smaller one him come complain to. Him noh lef mi out," Claude recalled.

The grief for Leon Palmer is fourfold, but he said things are a little better now.

He lost his 10-year-old son, his son's mother, his brother and his sister-in-law. "Yuh have a few people who care, and put out interest fi help, so we try to accept the lickle wi get. Nuff time it trouble mi, regularly, especially mi son ... anytime him come cross mi mind mi weak."

Burdened by guilt

This is because Leon is living with some amount of guilt. "More time it come in like mi waan blame myself ... him shouldn't really deh pan no market truck, him shoulda deh side a mi like de rest a de pickney dem ... a deh soh mi blame myself," he lamented. Also, the little sight that he had in his right eye is now gone. This, he attributed to his 'sobbing, sobbing'.

The residents of Mill Bank have been picking up the pieces of the broken lives, but the current economic hardship is not helping. The road network which is essential to farmers is still in a mess after all the visits and promises in the weeks following the tragedy. The road at Friday, which was damaged by rain, shortly after the funeral in January, is still officially closed, making the grieving residents of Mill Bank officially cut off from the rest of Jamaica.

paul.williams@gleanerjm.com

Steve Taylor varnishing one of his bamboo trinket boxes. - Photos by Paul Williams