EAGLE?HALL had taken on the air of a royal coronation parade; but it was in fact the start of the state funeral march for this country’s departed chief.
By 6:30 a.m., two hours before a dozen army and police personnel lifted the mahogany casket carrying the body of departed Prime Minister David Thompson out of Downes &?Wilson Funeral Home for the last time, Barbadians had started to assemble for the final send-off of one of their most favoured sons of the soil.
At 7:30 a.m., Eagle Hall and the next point, Barbarees Hill, were transformed into a throng of devotees, crying and clamouring at every turn and vantage point to mourn their David.
The sides of Eagle Hall were lined off, the intersection by the traffic lights virtually blocked; and it did not end there. Some people climbed the walls of the Eagle Hall Market with one man screaming: “I gotta see my Prime Minister one last time.”
One man summed it up differently.
“This is a Kadooment crowd that has come out to mourn for the boss.”
The morning had an order about it at every turn.
Barbadians, many of them dressed in black, some with photographs of Thompson, were on their best behaviour, waiting patiently for the casket draped in national colours to leave the funeral home.
Thompson’s wife Mara, children Misha, Oya, and Osa-Marie, father Charles, brother Stephen and other relatives had the last viewing and promptly came out of Downes &?Wilson at 8:17 a.m.
Three minutes later, the well-drilled bearer party of 12 brought out the casket and in an instant, “endless” cellular phones were clicking away from an overzealous public, eager to record a treasured piece of this country’s history.
As the casket was about to be lifted onto the gun carriage, there was a stand at ease from the police and army with Defence Force Chief of Staff Alvin Quintyne and Commissioner of Police Darwin Dottin leading the salute.
At exactly 8:25 a.m., the funeral procession started as planned.
Police motorcycle outriders led the way, followed by the bands of the Defence Force and the Police Force, the gun carriage, funeral director James Wilson, a group of just over 50 police officers and a limousine that accommodated the late Prime Minister’s family.
As the procession marched past the market, children from Eagle Hall Primary displayed pictures of Thompson, and along Barbarees Hill, students of St Leonard’s Secondary did the same.
As it reached Barbarees Hill where dozens of people lined both sides of the street, a steady drizzle greeted it, but neither that or the steamy morning heat would make a difference on this day.
Everyone wanted one final glimpse of King David’s last ride, and nothing could deny them. They came, they saw, they cried.
