“An icon is dead!  

‘The Queen of Hearts,’ one of the brightest lights that shone in the British Virgin Islands, has flickered and faded.  The repose of her soul marks the end of an era in BVI public, political, cultural and social life.

Eileene Lucia Parsons; A practicing socialite; A lover of people; A friend of the friendless; A speaker extraordinaire; A cultural icon; A horse racing enthusiast; A sports woman;

A formidable opponent; A writer; A Festival lover; An entertainer; A prolific contributor to talk radio programmes;

A teacher and a student; A committed mother to her grandchildren; A political animal; A party animal; A fan of Johnny Walker; A double amputee:

A leader and trailblazer; A retired public servant, politician and Minister; A talk radio hostess; A fan of the Mighty Sparrow; 

A youth at heart; The Queen on the chessboard; The Queen of Hearts:

Eileene Lucia Parsons slipped away from life, perhaps as quietly as she came, on the morning of 22 June 2025.  She was nigh 95.

She loved life intensely and said on multiple occasions that she was happy that life loved her back.  She laughed heartily with an almost reckless abandon. 

Her most appealing traits included her empathy; her ability to endear herself to the old and young alike; her quick and witty repartee; Her love for people;

And the effortless way she occupied a place in any social setting be it Government House, Stoutt’s lookout; Daggers, the 5th District bi-weekly Sankey sing out, or any place of her choosing.

As a nonagenarian, she was always helping grievers to say goodbye by eulogizing their departed; The family of Marlene Penn Trotman being her last, just two weeks ago.  She was also a cultural historian.  One does not live to the age of 95 without the practice of myriad good-byes both inside and outside the church hall.

In the words of her grandnephew Clive, “she had a lot of fire and information.” 

She was not like George, who made it clear that he was not attending anyone’s funeral who would not be attending his.

 Still, we will not hear one of her favourite songs in the church hall: 

A Calypso Rose original: Fire Fire in meh wire papa…”

Neither will anyone play: ‘I think I hear a pom-pom", which heralded, for her, the approach of the festival bands.  And it is a shame that Shard’s promise to her evaporated on his demise.

Since she was such a festival aficionado, he promised that he would place her casket on one of his flatbeds and drive her around the parade route then deliver her to the burial site.

But we get ahead of ourselves:

She always made it clear that Doreen Gumbs was her oldest friend, an enduring friendship which predated the birth of their children. 

But at her side at all her public appearances over the last 5 decades, unless sickness intervened, was her dear, dear friend, Ms Moore who was spitefully called ‘the bodyguard’ by a jealous soul; but whose name complimented most sentences that began with: "Ms Parsons….."

And only the most uninformed would have dared to ask ‘which Ms Parsons that?’  For, in BVI circles, if you heard the name Ms Parsons, it could only be Eileene Lucia Parsons.

Over her nine and a half decades she littered the landscape of the BVI with skills acquired through her enterprising nature.  She contributed much to the development of the Territory.

She was a Spanish teacher at the secondary school for too brief a period.  All her students, now in their eighth decade, can still recite or sing the Spanish songs and poems she taught them there.  

She had first class secretarial skills and taught shorthand and typing privately.  She helped to open and manage the work of the Slipper Factory in Road Town.  

As a seamstress, she dressed many a bridal party and made uniforms for a host of students and for the Heritage Dancers.

She became the first Director of Tourism, having completed a relevant degree at FSU.  The list of her accomplishments is too long for this publication.

It was she who laid the blueprint and guidance documents for building and commissioning a new hospital for the BVI, which morphed into the Dr D Orlando Smith Hospital. 

H. Lavity Stoutt only referred to her as ‘Lady I.’  He asked her to create a college for his people and she did not disappoint.

She built the racetrack that the government seems no longer skillful enough to recommission for taxpayers to enjoy.

She engaged in cultural preservation in a big way and spearheaded many community projects including the BVI Community Singers and the Heritage Dancers.  

The murals of BVI life of yesteryear that she commissioned for the wall at Fahie Hill are evidence of that cultural pride.

So much of the essence of BVI that we hold near and dear has a name written on it.

Eileene Lucia Parsons.

In her days in St Thomas, at Charlotte Amalie High, when her dear ‘Nen’ had to return to the BVI and she needed to finish her schooling, another name entered the locket on her chain.

Grace Gordon: Her foster mother always came in for encomiums, for it was Ms Gordon who told her that, “I will make you a young lady worthy of my home.”

Ms Parsons claimed that Ms Gordon almost killed her in the process but was true to her word.  Even in those days, Eileene was a free spirit who loved people; Who loved being social; Who loved life.

It was ‘Nen’ who instilled that love of people and entertainment in her that provoked her cousin Azalea to say, “She can't even cook and she always having party.”  And her response was always, “But you are my cook.”

Grace Gordon’s husband was a member of the USVI Senate; President on occasions; And it was through them that Ms Parson’s strong love for politics was born.

Ms Parsons, a truly kind person, helped many people in the BVI to realize their dreams for education and training, shelter, food, community engagement.  

She insisted on keeping all ranges and ages of friends. And she loved them as much as they loved her.

But she never compromised on her strong will and outspoken nature.

It was she who raised the level of debate in the House of Assembly and often spared in words with other powerhouses like Hon R. T. O’Neal and Hon. Omar Hodge.

Nonetheless, when it came to a battle of words in the House, Ms Parsons had no equal.  For she was a very well-read woman and none could breathe life into words the way she could.

Her personal experiences as Private Secretary to the USVI Commissioner for Education and then Private Secretary to the President of the University of the Virgin Islands (UVI) helped her in no small measure to become the wordsmith she was.

We marveled at how good she looked for a woman of her age.  And on many occasions when our hearts were lightened by that smile that lit up her face, she would tell Meredith who was as close to her as any daughter could be and especially during her first amputation in March 2007 and after the second in October 2010:

She told Meredith to make sure that Phil, the mortician, gets the face right and well made up for she must look back at the world even with closed eyes, from a beautiful face.

Ms Parsons had presence.  When she entered a room, she arrested attention.  For, apart from being a graceful and attractive lady, she was always well and appropriately dressed.

When she represented the Territory at Her Majesty’s Golden Jubilee, her assigned, official driver, fully unintentional and beyond his control, uttered the words on seeing her dressed for Westminster Abbey:

“Madam Minister, you look gorgeous.”

But he said nothing that she or we did not know.

And she always looked younger than her years.  In her mid-seventies when she approached a UK Immigration Officer seeking entry into that country, the Officer looked at her hard, looked back at the biometric data on her passport and asked point blank:

“Where did you get this passport.  It is obviously not yours for the data speaks of a much older woman who cannot be you.”

But back to her New York hospital bed:

While she drifted through the valley of the shadows in hospital, her goddaughter Sandi made her time in NY bearable.  She, like Dr Jarecki, visited her daily.  

Ms Parsons, after the second operation was not progressing as she should have and when Hon Ronnie Skelton visited her and saw her condition, he made the decision to bring her home.  Her improvement was dramatic.

But through all her changing scenes of life, she loved the August Festival, although it was Varis who decorated the float under her direction after people like Reuben did the artwork.

Varis was pained to the core when word of her demise reached him.  He asked no one in particular; “How can Ms Parsons do this?”

Over the years, my time with her could be summed up in the opening line of Dickens: A Tale of Two Cities.  “It was the best of times; It was the worst of times.”  

I worked for her and then, she became a woman I loved and adored.  She made me think, laugh, debate, cry, shout, ‘cuss,’ smile, recall, enjoy...

If her life were a book, there was no better read for in a word, she was inspirational.

She helped people without giving thought to her own needs.   She regaled us with stories and took every opportunity to gather family and friends, visitors, strangers, around her at her Manchester mansion.

She gave without counting the cost.

Ms Parsons was one of the most approachable people in public life.  She was even approached in places where she should not have been,

She knelt for communion one day in church and an old man knelt beside her and said:

“Ms Parsons, I know this is neither the time nor place BUT….     

Her Heritage Dancers were her pride and joy.  She danced for BVI tourism in Europe and all over the United States to the sound of the Lashing Dogs.  They were a dynamic duo.

And she traveled the world as a private citizen, especially on annual cruises after the August Tuesday races; Always in the company of her friends whom she never left behind although none rose as high as she.

As Secretary General of the Olympic Committee, that provided its own myriad opportunities for travel.  And as an elected representative and Minister in the Ministries of Health, Education and Natural Resources, she was duty bound to travel.

She was fair to a fault.  When others of her Ministerial Colleagues tried to stop the rise of any outstanding public servant, she made it clear that as a servant of the people she was ‘a bird of passage’ and would work with anyone if they were qualified and competent.

And although she was never a fan of food and had to be coaxed to eat, her caretaker and housekeeper, Betty, made certain that her guests were well fed and well looked after.

Harry and her nephew Eddy ensured that no glasses remained empty.  And it was Eddy who always told her that, with his own hands, he would build her mausoleum on the family burial ground in Manchester.

 But she will not rest there for she had, many moons ago when she lost her daughter, decided that she will sleep in the compartment above her in the Methodist Cemetery.

But the comings and goings in Manchester were disrupted.

She was worried.  She was torn.  And for the first time in aeons, she was stressed to the core.  She threw a final party to honour those friends of 5 decades.  

News of her death took us by surprise and cut deeply.  She always complained about the phantom pains in her missing legs.  She said her feet felt as if they were being squeezed by shoes several sizes too small.

But as time went by, her pain increased in frequency, intensity and duration.  It became positively debilitating.  

It was her ‘son’ Ishmael who received the call from the hospital.  He was at the top of the list of people to call.

He woke us all.

And it was Ronnie, like Joseph of Arimathea, who claimed the body and delivered it to the funeral home.

No wonder Dr Jarecki told her in the past that there are two things he would never debate with her: “Religion and Ronnie Skelton.”

And Ronnie and the rest of Ms Parson’s inner circle, set about, per her instructions, to plan a fitting farewell for a lady who gave her all to family, friends, community and country.

How do you say goodbye to an icon of the stature of Mrs. Eileene Lucia Parsons OBE?

The community at large has been remembering her in its own way with lots of buzz on social media.  A poem was also written.

Fittingly, the House of Assembly has convened a special sitting to review her record and remember her legion contributions to the people of the Territory of the Virgin Islands.

Whatever they say, they will not do her justice.

No one can.

And then, on the day of her state funeral, the former Speaker of the House and former Deputy Governor, Mrs Inez Archibald CBE, will tell us about Eileene Lucia Parsons OBE, partially, in Eileene’s own words.

For Mrs Parsons wrote a farewell before her death.

For our part, all we can say may be summed up in Evita’s words in ‘Don’t cry for me Argentina.’

“Have I said too much?

There's nothing more I can think of to say to you

But all you have to do

Is look at me to know

That every word is true.”

So, Fridays, blinded by tears, bid you;

Come see a woman and a patriot!!

Come see Eileene Lucia Parsons OBE!!

May her soul rest in peace

This is really not; A

Happy Friday!!”