‘Miller’ laid to rest; given last boat ride
He passed away on January 31, 2019, at Peebles Hospital in Road Town, on Tortola’s Main Island at the age of 49.
‘Miller’, as he was called by his many friends and family, attended the Meyers Primary School on Tortola. In his school days, he earned the nickname ‘Killer Miller” according to a eulogy of the deceased.
After attending the then BVI High School, he was employed in various places and had also moved to West End where he developed an interest in speedboats. He also learnt small engine repair and other trades around the Marine sector.
Great boating skills
With his top skills in repairing boats, residents from all over the United States Virgin Islands (USVI) and locally in Tortola sought him out to do work for them.
Despite his brief challenges with the law in addition to his illness as a dialysis patient, ‘Miller’ was a family man and was kind to many persons. He was described by many who knew him as a humble man.
Mr Moulon is survived by two sons, Miller-Se’ Quonne J. Moulon and Fransym J. M Blyden and two daughters Mia M. Moulon and Je’Nai A. M Moulon.
The last sail
The funeral service was held at the Cane Garden Bay Baptist Church and the interment was at the Sailors Burial Ground, West End.
Before his final resting place, family and friends gave him a final sail on a powerboat in the West End area.
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10 Responses to “‘Miller’ laid to rest; given last boat ride”
RIP
My friend rest easy R.I.P the "Hog".
In Remembrance of Miller
By Tafari Zharr
They drifted you out into the Ocean and back And I thought: So Much For Your Politer Slap on the Wrists
Or your cheeky: “Lawd, ya can’t tell people what to do”! How Will I remember the brothers’ keeper?
How will I remember “Genie’s” dreamer? Someone said: No-body ain' goin' forget Miller. The First Summer you drifted by our place You drifted into our lives as a spectator; Day One Became Two, Months became Years, Years became Moments, and Now - Now will become Forever!
You drifted into our lives on a dinghy; Thirsty; A pastime, your childhood’s first, boating curiosity- reality; Lover of the ocean, and engines, and power-boats; The dreams that swept you upstream ; In a realm of outboard performances; bore self-reliance; indulgences; Before you Boys Grew up You had a Crew: Never Less than Two of you; More rather than Few; Clowned Around from morning till sundown; Yelling my brother’s Name always yelling "come down, and “need bait, ice, and lemonade; this was what Evening Dives over the bridge on the West Side was like.
Those were the good ole days” and then some. Un till health challenges took you Indoors; After your accepted compromise, you would say to me: Quiet, Quiet, Sshhh, Ya hear dat, he more than ever loved “listening to the tide”; No Hemingway, your vernacular was better than clear; Compound sentences: words contrite, deliberate, and bare; Plain truth There’s no other, “Miller”, No-one compares; and such a skillful talented dude.
Your Memories will cement a legacy that has to be reckoned with; A heart, so generous, boundlessly, it will be missed; A good man whose stride was once happy and quick; Whose nature was easy but resolve could be a brick; and Miller RIP-Miller RIP. hope you drifted - in your groove - and that in your eternal hour that you did quietly fall asleep listening to the ripple and tide;
Hope you knew love ones, friends, and family – would weep; Your brave soul, became weary, but your sway was wide; Your life’s course, not always was easy, so just travel to the heavens via the Nile; And they sent you off - a legend in your own right; and They drifted you out into the Ocean and back!