Rowe, Marguerite Lorraine

Rowe, Marguerite Lorraine
17 Apr
2018

Marguerite Lorraine Rowe, age 94, affectionately known as “Aunt Mar”, of Corner Stone Nursing Home and formerly of Good Intent, Ellerton, St. George, retired Principal of the Stow, Vauxhall and St. Philip Primary Schools, Member of the Retired Teachers’ Association, Beloved Sister of Joyce Roth, Elsie Francis, Gregg and Phyllis Rowe and the late Van and Owen Rowe, Wee-da Taylor and Patricia Lambie, Aunt of many, Cousin of Allan Rowe, Godmother of Jackie Cumberbatch, Relative of the Lovell, Corbin, Daniel, Odle, Howard, Alleyne and Pay-shay families, Friend of Lionel Weekes, Sylvan Catwell and Lasonta King

The funeral of Marguerite Lorraine Rowe leaves Clyde B. Jones Funeral Home Top Rock, Christ Church on Friday, April 20th, 2018 at 1:15 p.m. for St. Luke’s Anglican Church, Brighton, St. George, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:00 p.m. for a Service of Thanksgiving, followed by the interment in the churchyard.


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

Floral tributes may be delivered to Clyde B. Jones Funeral Home no later than 12:30 p.m. on Friday.

Visitation takes place at the Chapel of Clyde B. Jones Funeral Home from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Thursday.

To express condolences visit www.clydebjonesfuneralhome.com

  • 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.