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THE SINCEREST OF JOURNALISTS WHO EVER WALKED THE EARTH
MORRIS CARGHILL
Was he a cynic? I don’t believe
He was always laughing in his sleeves ,
Whenever he worried them who so think .
He claimed he was not religious ,
But they thought he was frivolous;
Christianity for him was too fraught
With the task of seeking sinners,
So he became a Buddhist,
Not hoping to meet at Peter’s feet,
Religious poltergeists who throw stones,
Theologizing on divine hypothesis.
To them he left the world reluctantly,
Missing caviar and pink salmon
With friend in some cushy restaurant--
Not a connoisseur, he loved rare liquors –
Mocking at the pachydermatous,
And inducing them to read between the lines
In their search for serious thought
Cleverly hidden in satirical ink.
Which he wrote in serious fun prolific,
Of penises , vaginas and egotists ---
And , of course, the AIDS virus---
Non Essays he called them ---with no offence ,
Yet funnily essaying to attempt
To get the world to feel and think ,
To laugh with him at self.
He has cleverly loaded with his quill,
His wisdom inscribed to instill
With honest dealings and good intent ,
Hoping for men to goodly live ;
Though his lines made them sore ---
Laughter at them conjuring mockery find---
Yet next day they looked for more
Of the subtle sounding of his mind.
He planted bananas in St. Mary,
Tried his hand at a book or two,
Had entered and exited Federation door ;
Much against his will he left, for he believed
Welding the Caribbean Sea should work.
Migrated not in fear from Jamaica shore,
But from outside to see the better
What inside was happening .
But bitten by the patriotic bug,
He again sought his land to hug ,
More scandalously witty than before.
Honoured , better late than never ,
He deserves to be where he is now,
Not to be forgotten now and then.
His vinegary sour- sweet wit.
Morris Carghill C.D., was born in St. Andrew on June 10, 1914. He was the son of John Henry Carghill and Isobel Halton Morris –Carghill.
He was educated at Munro College in Jamaica, then went to Stowe School in England . He studied law and engaged in the importation of Jamaica rum and ‘Tia Maria’, a coffee liqueur which he had been developed by Dr. Leighton Evans, his friend. He also involved himself with the metal and plastic industries, in association with Jamaican Robert Lightbourne, his life-long friend. He was called to the bar in 1937. He had followed in the footsteps of his father and uncle , partners in the legal firm of Carghill, Carghill and Dunn. But he did not practice too long as a solicitor. He became Manager of the Carib Theatre in Kingston. He bought a farm by the name of Charlettenburg and set out to grow bananas.
i n 1940, one year after World War Two, he returned to England to join the war effort. He worked in communication, and also did broadcasting with the BBC. When the war ended, he returned to Jamaiaca, resumed farming, and shared his experience of farming in his Gleaner column.
In 1958, he was elected as St. Mary’s representative to the West Indies Federal Parliament. InTrinidad, he became the editor of the local newspaper, Port of Spain Gazette. He returned to Jamaica , when Jamaica withdrew from the West Indies Federation and resumed writing his column for The Gleaner, which he had started in 1952. He also returned to broadcasting , doing regular commentaries on public affairs on Radio Jamaica and Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation. He did not give up farming, but returned to Charlottenburg He also bought Paradise Farm, in Portland, with hid relative, John Pringle.
He retired from farming in 1982, and concentrated on newspaper work. By that time, his in The Gleaner , had become very popular, his ‘forte’ being satire and wit. “I love provoking pompous people ,” he once wrote. He enjoyed joisting at ordinary Jamaicans, politicians , the Government ,the justice system and even at his dog,’Peanuts’ and at his own life. In The Gleaner of February 2, 2000, he said: “ I am inclined to think that the only thing for Mr. Espeut and myself to do is to make fun of the assorted politicians and others in the hope that mockery will have some effect.”
He was honoured in 1998, by the Press Association of Jamaica for his tremendous contribution to journalism . As a published author , he wrote: ‘ A Gallery of Nazis’, ‘Jamaica Farewell’ both in 1977, and ‘ Fever Grass’ , in collaboration with John Hearne. A selection of his writings in The Gleaner, for the period 1952 to 1985, was published from 1986 to 1996. was published in 1998, under the title ‘ Public Disturbances’ .
Morris Carghill was honoured by The Gleaner on his 80th birthday , and in 1998. the distinguished columnist was accorded the National Honour of the Order of Distinction (Commander rank) in recognition of his long service to journalism in Jamaica. He died on Saturday April 8, 2000, at the age of 85 years . He was a son of Jamaica, who was a legend in his time. His life was multifaceted as a lawyer, farmer, author, newspaper columnist , editor , broadcaster, politician and wit. He will be long remembered for his satirical expertise and fearlessness with which he expressed his views about the social and political circumstance of his country. He had become a household word in Jamaica and the Caribbean.
RANDOM THOUGHTS selected from Morris Cargill's writings:
What we needed is a clear sweep of the public sector , the fat cats
and the whole lot, including the Governor of the Bank of Jamaica.
( From “Some Extraordinary Events “ by Morris Carghill)
They (Computers) failed to tell the difference between 1900 and 2000.
This can be described as the greatest non-event in history.
( From “The hypes and paranoia “ by Morris Carghill)
When the Pope dies ,the church , I am sure , will adopt the idea of birth
control , and will also adopt the idea of a married priesthood ; the advantage will be the lessening of wear and tear on choir boys.
( From “Christianity and All That” by Morris Carghill )
Strange , is it not? That of the myriads who before us pass’d the door of Darkness through, not one returns to tell us of the Road Which to discover we must travel too.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on : nor all your Piety nor your Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
( Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat)
Last edited by cousinsoren 09-13-2010 at 03:43:30 PM
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Very interesting write of course!