Arthur, Imelda Elaine

Arthur, Imelda Elaine
28 Nov
2017

Imelda Elaine Arthur, age 80, of Boscobelle and formerly, of Rose Hill, St. Peter, Daughter, of the late Milton and Ianthe Hinds, Wife , of Aubrey Arthur, of the U.K., Mother, of Anderson Hinds, of Kingsland, Christ Church and Claudia Arthur, of the U.S.A., Grandmother , of Kendra Bishop, Floyd Arthur, Vjay and Dario Ellis all , of the U.S.A., Tonya Sargeant, Jerome and Renaldo Hinds, Great Grandmother , of Lelah Arthur, Sheldon Bishop Jr. and Jaii Ellis all , of the U.S.A. and Delano Hinds, Sister , of Winston Hinds , of the U.K., Galveston Hinds, the late Violet Harvey and Otlin Brathwaite, Aunt , of Carol Lewin, Wendell, Alicia and Jerry Hinds all , of the U.K., Verna Harvey , of the U.S.A., Kenmore Harvey, Michael and Suzan Hinds, Joann and Charles Brathwaite, Mother-in-law , of Maureen Hinds, Relative , of the Hinds, Scantlebury, Phillips, Bovell and Arthur families, Devoted Friend , of Shirley Phillips, Crosby Chandler, Tonia Edwards and many others.

The funeral , of Imelda Elaine Arthur leaves St. John Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy on Saturday, December 02nd, 2017 at 11:45 a.m. for Bethany Baptist Church, Mile and A Quarter, St. Peter, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 1:30 p.m. for the Service , of Thanksgiving. The cortege will then proceed to the Mount Pleasant Memorial Gardens, Pleasant Hall, St. Peter for the interment.

Wreaths may be delivered to St. John Funeral Home not later than 11:30 a.m. on Saturday.

The body will repose for viewing in the Chapel , of St. John Funeral Home from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Friday.

Fond remembrances and condolences to the family may be directed to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. & This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

  • Stop all the clocks
    Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead, Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong' The stars are not wanted now, put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.