Morris, Wendel Rudolph

Morris, Wendel Rudolph
09 Aug
2017

Wendel Rudolph Morris, age 61, affectionately known as “Peter” or “Schuberts”, of Vaughan’s #3, St. Joseph, retired Maintenance Worker of Dover Beach Hotel, Son of Millicent Holder and the late Seibert “Parkie” Hope, Husband of Stephanie Morris, Father of Reneaka Whittaker, Brother of Merlene Morris-Yarde, Judy Morris, Adrian and David Holder, Cousin of Percy, Loretta and William Morris, Andrew and Mark Dixon, Bindley Welch and many others of Barbados, the U.S.A. and London, Uncle of Shelley and Alicia Yarde, Reice and Anthony Morris, Tashauna Holder and Davina Holder of London, Father-in-law of Jeremy Whittaker, Friend of Patricia Morris, Patrick Quarless, Calvin Holder, Ornan Payne, Edward and Janet Howe of Canada..................................

The funeral of Wendel Rudolph Morris leaves the Tranquility Chapel of Two Sons Funeral Home, Stadium Road, Bush Hall, St. Michael on Thursday, August 10th, 2017 at 1:45 p.m. for St. Aidan’s Anglican Church, Bathsheba, St. Joseph, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for A Home Going Service. The cortege will then proceed to the St. Joseph Churchyard for the interment.


The Organist and members of the choir are asked to attend.


Floral arrangements can be sent to the Tranquility Chapel of Two Sons Funeral Home no later than 1:30 p.m. on Thursday.


Condolences can be emailed to: 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.