Dear Editor,
On Tuesday, January 6th I was on the pavement in front of the City Hall with folklorist/words of wisdom man AA Fenty, who pointed to an elderly gentleman moving along the pave gingerly towards us and made a comment about him.
At a glance I saw nothing particularly special about the man except for his obvious agility. As he neared us the words of wisdom man stretched out his hand to him signalling for him to stop. The man recognised Fenty, and his face brightened up all smiles, but boy oh boy he was moving as if to beat time, for he actually passed us by about two yards indicating his reluctance to be detained, but stop he did.
Fenty quickly introduced me to him then him to me, padding me up some, which always makes me uncomfortable – always! But then in excitement he said something in a dramatic voice about the gentleman in front of us that jolted me: “This gentleman standing here, Mr Hilton Lewis, is ninety…” and upon observing that he was a bit uncertain the gentleman interrupted filling in the blank, “six, ninety-six next month.”
“Yes,” replied Fenty, repeating and emphasising “nineee…ty…six.” When Fenty first mentioned his name to me he didn’t give his age, and I assumed he purposely held it back for the element of surprise, which indeed it was. Then he went on, “Up to a few years ago he was still an athlete, imagine that!” But again the man interrupted, “Still is, still is,” visibly upset that Fenty was writing him off. Again Fenty rambled on: “He used to compete at the Masters’ games in the US.”
“Ah going again this year,” the man intoned. “Alright, alright!” Fenty conceded while directly to me he said, “Yuh hearing fuh yuhself, and he used to high-jump.”
“How yuh mean, used to? ah does still high-jump,” the man retorted, with a fixed stare pointing at the cross-bar running through the City Hall cast iron grill fence next to us which appears a little under four-feet; he was grumbling to himself – obviously making a mental calculation. As he concentrated on the fence he made a slight fidgety movement, then steady-focused as if about to leap, causing an amused and jovial Fenty to rock with laughter, grabbing hold of his hand as if restraining him: “Hey, hey don’t do that now man, wha wrong with yuh?” A few words more and he was off at the speed that he came, bouncing like a butterfly into the bustling Georgetown traffic.
This Mr Hilton Lewis is a gem at 96 with no apparent physical disability; thin as a rail, fit as a fiddle; his agility belying his age. This gentleman athlete who boasts about and is eagerly looking forward to competing in the USA Masters Games is truly a remarkable individual who would put many fifty-year-olds and even younger to shame, as Fenty has admitted. Hilton Lewis made me cancel a point I made in September last year when I met well-known Linden personality in Georgetown, Mr Jimmy Hamilton, the treasure box on Mashramani, its origin and development. Jimmy, as he is fondly called, has not shifted one gear for, I’d say, the last thirty years, except that now he has a full head of silken white hair. Unlike Mr Hilton Lewis – and I’m taking some liberty here – Jimmy Hamilton does things that athletes are advised against, thus he stands in total defiance of a host of medical pronouncements which is more mind-boggling considering his age.
Incidentally it was this same A A Fenty I was with when I caught up with Jimmy Hamilton, who in admiration informed me that Jimmy was an octogenarian: “Look how fast duh man moving and he in he eighties and nothing ain’t wrong with he.” Jimmy Hamilton moves with remarkable nimbleness, is most times dressed in his characteristic all white – now his hair complements his outfit – and retains his slimness. “Jimmy slim” has no medical complaint; his sight is good, heart is good and metabolism is good; he eats whatever he likes, drinks whatever he likes and does as he feels like, and for all that he indulges was given a clean bill of health by medical practitioners in the USA.
According to him, when he was in the USA doing a medical, and taking his age into consideration, the practitioner attending to him was beaten all ends up and found no complaints. He called out to other personnel: “Come see a man”; they were all dumbstruck, though pleasantly surprised. How come at his age he was still possessed of such wholesomeness? He said they told him to continue doing what he was doing. Jimmy is indeed free, and totally uninhibited. Surely these two gentlemen and others like them, wherever they are, are an inspiration and beckon us to question and revisit a number of things. Hats off to them.
Yours faithfully,
Frank Fyffe
