Charity steps in to rebuild homes for elderly brothers, widow
Published:Wednesday | January 28, 2026 | 12:06 AMJanet Silvera/Gleaner Writer
WESTERN BUREAU:
At 70, blindness left him unable to rebuild; at 84, his brother could only wait. When Hurricane Melissa destroyed their home in Bunkers Hill, Trelawny, the Reid brothers – alongside a widowed mother of five – were left homeless, struggling for shelter and unsure when help would arrive.
Support eventually came from the Hermine Pryce Foundation, a US-based Jamaican charity that intervened after weeks of stalled relief. It is now spending US$11,000 (J$1.76 million) to rebuild two homes – one for the brothers, another for a young family whose house was also destroyed.
For months, Clinton Reid, 70, and his 84-year-old brother Neville have been living in the Bunkers Hill Community Centre – an emergency shelter never meant to outlast the crisis. Their modest home had been flattened; nothing was left to salvage. Clinton, who is blind, relied on Neville long before the hurricane. After the storm, both men lost not only a roof but also what remained of their independence.
Up to the time of this story, they remain the shelter’s only occupants, lingering reminders of a disaster that has largely faded from public attention.
“All the others moved on,” said Courtney ‘Macky British’ McIntosh, the community contact who helped link the brothers with the foundation. “They have been living in the shelter. No beds, no furniture, nothing. They are just surviving.”
Just a short distance away, another family was enduring its own version of waiting.
Tanekia Titus, a widowed mother of five, lost her two-bedroom house, complete with kitchen and bathroom, when Hurricane Melissa tore through the area. With no shelter space available, she and her children were forced to improvise.
At first, they squeezed into a single room with old windows and no doors. Later, neighbours helped her build up three sides of the structure. Tarpaulin and salvaged boards filled the gaps, but rain still found its way inside.
“I lost everything ... everything,” Titus told The Gleaner. “I didn’t have the resources to do anything.”
MAKING A DIFFERENCE
Her youngest child is 10. Four of the five still live with her. With the children’s father deceased, Titus’ income – earned week on, week off – barely stretches across school costs, food and transport. Privacy vanished. Comfort became a luxury. Safety was the baseline.
“It makes a difference just to have space,” she said softly. “Right now, everybody is in one place.”
The Hermine Pryce Foundation had initially sent money from overseas to begin construction. But the transfer, routed through a local bank, was rejected without explanation. While the funds sat in limbo, the brothers remained in the shelter and Titus continued raising her children in a structure that barely held together.
Rather than wait, the foundation chose to act. Its members were already on the island carrying out charitable work in Mount Industry, St Catherine – the community where their late mother, Hermine Pryce, had been known for decades of quiet philanthropy. All 14 of her children now run the foundation established in her name, continuing the habits she practised without fanfare.
Last Wednesday, they purchased building materials directly from a hardware store in Wakefield, allowing work to start immediately.
The project will see two homes rebuilt: a modest structure for the Reid brothers, and a two-room unit with a bathroom for Titus and her children.
“Because the land is leased, permanent concrete construction is not possible, but the priority, the foundation was urgency, safety and dignity,” said O’Neil Pryce.
For O’Neil’s sibling Andrea Pryce, the decision was instinctive rather than strategic.
“Some people make promises but never return,” one of the siblings said. “We wanted to make sure we returned.”
McIntosh, who has lived in the area for years, said the families’ prolonged displacement reflected a wider fatigue in hurricane-affected communities, where initial attention fades but recovery takes much longer.“People come, they take pictures, they say they’ll help,” he said. “Then time pass, and some people are still right where the storm left them.”