The Tribune

EDITOR, The Tribune. 

It is with profound sadness that I share the passing of my beloved grandmother, June Ellen Stevenson (née Maplethorpe), affectionately called Mama June. I preface this by saying my letter is based on my personal experiences and recollections. Any omissions or differences in perspective are unintentional and not meant to diminish anyone’s contributions.

Born June 25, 1928, in Billinghay, Lincolnshire, England, June’s remarkable journey brought her to the Bahamas in the late 1940’s early 50’s where she lived a life filled with love, resilience, and unwavering faith, leaving an indelible mark on all who knew her.

June’s life in The Bahamas was intertwined with history, marked by her marriages to two influential men she met during the vibrant Hobby Horse Race Track era. She first married Harold A Munnings Sr, one of the Bahamas’ top 50 legacy men, who made significant contributions to our nation. Later, she married Cyril Stevenson, a prominent political figure, journalist, and one of the founders of the Progressive Liberal Party. Cyril, also recognised among the top 50 legacy men, played a pivotal role in shaping the political landscape of The Bahamas, and he was profoundly influenced by June’s quiet strength, wisdom, and unwavering support.

June’s impact extended beyond her family; she was an activist for women’s rights and equality during the suffrage movement, passionately advocating for change and standing up for what she believed in. Her commitment to social justice was a testament to her character and her desire to make a difference in the world around her. June’s commitment to nurturing future leaders extended across borders. While living in England, her family opened their home to young black Bahamian scholars pursuing higher education, including Sir Lynden Pindling, who later became the first black Premier of the Bahamas. Her willingness to provide a supportive environment for these scholars exemplified her deep belief in equality, education, and cultural understanding, leaving an enduring impact on those who were welcomed into her home.

June’s matrimonial home in New Providence became a lush sanctuary in South Beach, where she lovingly planted fruit-bearing trees and indigenous plants with her bare hands. She named the property “The Fen,” a tribute to the Fens of England, whose flat, low-lying lands mirrored those of South Beach. June’s sentimental nature was reflected in every corner of her home, where each piece of furniture and silverware held a memory, and every tree and every stone told a story.

Despite residing in the Bahamas for over 60 years, her British accent remained strong and recognizable, reflecting her roots. June was articulate, witty, and fun to be around, often bringing laughter to any gathering. She had a remarkable ability to find humor in any situation and to share that laughter with those around her. One poignant and ironically humorous moment occurred just a few days before her passing. My brother, Richard Munnings Jr, and I were by her bedside, discussing final arrangements and preparations for her send-off. Though some might consider this morbid, Mama June was ever the forward thinker, deeply in tune with reality, and wanted to ensure that all of us knew her final wishes. During our conversation, she instructed us about some stones at The Fen she wanted brought to her tomb, referencing a scripture from Joshua 4:6—“What mean ye by these stones?”—symbolising safe passage and transition.

In a moment of levity, Richard joked about including her gallstones among those stones from The Fen—a particularly fitting jest because Mama June, ever the sentimental soul, had held onto them after they were removed years ago. The room erupted with her infectious laughter, a moment made all the more touching as her daughter, Lindy Munnings, who had flown in from Canada to be by her side, was also present. The irony of Mama’s laughter filling the room as we discussed stones—and her unique knack for holding onto things that told a story—was not lost on any of us. Even in her final days, she found a way to bring joy and humor into our lives.

June’s friendships were just as enduring. One of her dearest friends was Gwen McDeigan, her first husband’s sister, whose loyalty never wavered. In her final days, Mama June asked me to call Aunty Gwen, and they spoke like sisters, exchanging heartfelt “I love yous” and bidding each other farewell. Aunty Gwen shared with me that she and Mama June shared a bed when she first came to the Bahamas, making the notion of being sisters all the more fitting. During their brief telephone conversation, Mama reassured her that she was on her way to the other side. Their bond was unbreakable, a testament to the lifelong connections June cherished.

June often shared stories of her early years and her encounters with racism across the globe. One particularly moving account was of flying my father, who was an infant at the time, to the USA for an emergency surgery. Navigating a segregated world in the early 50’s with her biracial baby was terrifying, yet June faced it with courage and grace, determined to ensure his safety and well-being. Her strength and compassion defined her, even in the face of such challenges.

June’s final weeks were a profound testament to the impact of her love, as her children, grandchildren and friends gathered around her with care, support, and unwavering devotion during her most vulnerable time. It was my duty and privilege to take care of her during her final weeks, returning the love she had always so generously given. She passed away peacefully on August 28, 2024, at the age of 96—a date that held special significance as it was also the birthday of her “baby boy”, Clarke Stevenson. Though I prayed that she’d hang on if only for that day, fearing that her passing would forever shadow Uncle Clarke’s special day, fate seemed to have a different plan, allowing her to slip away precisely on his birthday. In a similar twist of serendipity, her first two children, born to her first husband, shared the same birthday on April 11, and her son Richard Sr, who predeceased her, was laid to rest on June 25 — her own birthday. Mama June’s life was undeniably marked by moments of fate and the sentimental threads that wove her story together.

June’s faith was the cornerstone of her life, often reminding us to “put God first,” a reassurance that carried her through every season. In her last days, she often sang Psalm 23 with me, and recited one of her favorite scriptures; “and we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose” Romans 8:28. Her spirit lifted by the promise of her faith. She was clear on her final destination, eagerly anticipating her reunion with loved ones who had gone before her, especially her mother Doris, husband Cyril, and my father, Richard Munnings Sr. Even as her body grew frail, her mind remained sharp, and she approached her journey home with peace and confidence. She passed away surrounded by love, in the arms of her beloved son, Michael Stevenson, and me holding her hand while gently stroking her hair, as we recognized that it was time to release her spirit to the heavens.

Mama June was a remarkable woman—a devoted grandmother, an activist, a skilled photographer, and a storyteller whose words will forever resonate in our hearts. I will deeply miss her stories, her warmth, and the loving presence that defined every moment we shared. As I say goodbye, I celebrate a life beautifully lived, guided by faith, and filled with unbreakable bonds.

Nadya Munnings-Pratt, MSc, BA

Nassau

August 30, 2024.