Jamaica: The Wind, the Water, and the Will to Withstand

A reflection by Dean Jones — Founder, Jamaica Homes

When Hurricane Gilbert hit Jamaica in September 1988, I was here. I remember the sound first — the roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was devastating, yes, but also unforgettable. Back then, our homes were mostly wooden. Light frames, zinc roofs, the smell of pine and paint — that was the Jamaica I partly grew up knowing. The storm tore through those homes like paper, reminding us how fragile we were.

And yet, even amid the chaos, there was community. People checked on each other. We cooked together, shared what we had — a car load of plantin’ from Guys Hill, St Mary, and tins of bully beef — and laughed nervously at the gusts that rattled what was left of the wooden window slats. In the days that followed, Jamaica turned tragedy into humour, into song — Wild Gilbert, by Lovindeer.

“Wild, wild, wild, wild Gilbert,” the chorus went — a cheeky anthem that turned loss into laughter. The zinc roofs that flew off, the pots …