Babb, Hal Anthony

Babb, Hal Anthony
04 Sep
2018

Hal Anthony Babb, age 70, better known as “Bob” of Moore Hill, St. Peter, formerly of Cottage, St. Lucy and Retreat, St. Peter, Son of the late Ione Babb, Husband of Carmenita Babb,Father of Hamilton Scantlebury of Hammy Taxi Services, Jason Scantlebury- Human Resources Department of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital and Mesha Scantlebury of KM2 Solutions, Grandfather of Abbigaille Goodman-Scantlebury of the U.S.A, Halyn and Hamel Scantlebury, Brother of Cynthia Babb of the U.S.A and Harold Babb, Uncle of many, Cousin of Erwin Babb and many others, Brother-in-law of Franklyn Worrell, Carmeta Babb, Linda, Emerson and St. Elmo Scantlebury, Relative of the Babb, Harvey and Scantlebury families, Friend of Sherwin Dottin and family, the members of the Boscobelle Seventh-day Adventist Church and many others.

The funeral of Hal Anthony Babb leaves St. John Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy on Wednesday, August 08th, 2018 at 12:00 noon for the Seventh-day Adventist Church, Boscobelle, St. Peter, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 2:00 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving. The cortege will then proceed to St. Philip-the-less Churchyard for the interment.


Wreaths may be delivered to St. John Funeral Home not later than 11:45 a.m. on Wednesday.


Donations will be collected at the church for the Cancer Support Services.

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 Tuesday.

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.

  • Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
    Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightening they Do not go gentle into that good night.   Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.   Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.