Fr Clyde Harvey — a people’s hero

Each one of the tributaries carries wisdom, and each one flows to a wide ocean, such that only a distant horizon of his compassion we see. It is a sea of people the man — priest, son, brother, confidante, and friend — has reached out to and touched in profoundly productive ways.

I have sat in the pew during funeral ceremonies, and listened to him. I’ve never heard a long-winded sermon, but felt part of an inspiring conversation. It was a conversation with a man who has his pulse on people — their needs, sorrows and joys — so while he speaks, he is sensitive to his audiences. He speaks with us, not at us.

Because he is a priest is he a man of God, or is he just naturally a godly man? In a large sense, Fr Clyde Harvey is a man who walks amongst us, the way Jesus Christ walked among the people as a man. He is passionate about his parishes, but his church is not only the building where people pray. His church is us. His temple is a home, the street, and open spaces where the poor, the down trodden, the sinner walk, or put down their head to sleep, or to die. Fr. Harvey lives in a practical world. He tunes in to the intangibles of humanity — dignity, as well as basic needs for existence — food, clothing shelter, security belonging and love.

This tall, gracious, cultured man with understated power, and unassuming sophistication is a river as deep as old man time. That river is the source of his power and trustworthiness. It is the power that lies in the bedrock called family, humility, compassion, and passion to embrace the frailties of humanity. It is a bedrock I suspect a mother’s hands blessed.

I wondered where such godliness came from, and decided to invade his privacy. I trust he will forgive me. He is from humble beginnings in St Vincent Street, Port-of-Spain. He attended the Moulton Hall Methodist School, downtown Abercrombie and Duke Streets, Belmont Boys Intermediate School and then St Mary’s College. He was an avid reader, and when other children played at recess, or after school, Clyde Harvey was with books — voluntarily.

When, between five and eight years of age his sister Lorna took Clyde to Bazaars, the little boy would find a book and a corner where he would sit and read. I wondered about that, and implications for the future. As one of four children — Elffy, Milton, Lorna, and Clyde — his mother and grandmother read to the little Harveys frequently, which helped the children to understand and appreciate the environment in which they lived. The family Harvey revered the Catholic faith and charitable work, as they do now.

Clyde’s mother was his mountain — his fountain, his universe, and too, he was her doux doux child. Beryl Harvey loved all of her children, but Clyde was the first among equals. He must have gone deep within his well, to find the courage to deliver the Homily at her, farewell to earth, ceremony. He was the source of strength for the rest of the family at that time, always was, and still is. I suspect too, that Beryl’s nurturing is the largest rock on his riverbed. His adoring mother had a terrific voice and gave to her son the musical genes. He joined a carol singing group and also played the piano and the oboe. He was a studious youth with a quest for knowledge.

If he were a child in school today, his peers may brand him a nerd, and perhaps bully him, but Clyde Harvey was no nerd. He was active in school events, including public speaking, music and sports — especially basketball. He indulged his time and talents in the Sacred Heart parish. His emotional maturity belied his tender age. The child had a unique outlook on life and prepared well for his destiny.

It was the first Archbishop —Finbar Ryan, and a priest called Fr Tobas Valdez who, like Beryl Harvey, saw something precious in the acolyte. They encouraged him to pursue a career in the church. He taught at the Seminary of St John Vianney in 1967, studied politics and sociology at UWI, and obtained his Master's degree in theology from the Catholic University of Louvain, Belgium. Archbishop Anthony Pantin ordained Clyde Harvey a priest in 1976, and his first parish, with Fr Christian Pereira was Laventille/ Morvant between 1979 and 1988. Challenges dominated the lives of the young priests during that engaging period. The parish included Success Laventille, St Dominic’s Morvant, Trou Macaque and Rose Hill.

The down to earth, hands-on priest, provided vision and leadership, and he understood the realities of life on the Hill as he does now. When the youth of Laventille needed space, he allowed them to play in front of the Shrine. He engaged them at their level of understanding, and they respected and trusted him.

Desperados Steelband was in the parish’s backyard, so Father’s relationship with the men was close and productive. He provided counselling, and helped them to solve leadership and relationship problems. Every Good Friday, Fr Harvey with Fr Pereira and others, walked with their flock for six hours from Rose Hill to Morvant.

If the parish of Laventille/ Morvant had been challenging, Maloney would have been his crucible of faith. When he went to Maloney, there was a galvanise shed where people prayed. He left a church, and built a parish that became home to many Laventille folk. Maloney challenged his leadership capacity, and missionary zeal. He knows what a prison smells like and is familiar with the charge room in a police station.

The missionary man moves across victims of HIV/AIDS, substance abuse, and abuse of all forms, and extends his service to other health issues, sports, education, at risk, marginalised youth, and those already in the engine room. He founded the Community Action Resource — an HIV/AIDS support organisation, and South Aids Support. He was co-founder of Lifeline. Fr Harvey co-partners the “Pride in Gonzales” Programme and he chairs the Morris Marshall Foundation which assists young people and opens up opportunities for them.

It is not surprising that his path crossed with another legend of this land — the late Pat Bishop. Their work overlapped where “de hammer” “ponged” a pan, and together they showed us the talents of the folk on the Hill. She made music. He made music of uplifting people higher than they had dreamed.

But even his pedigree Christian upbringing would not account for the depth of the river. Yes, there was a cultured background — home, school and community in which he grew up. It is all these things plus the fact that he is simply who he is. He is not the average priest, more so when it comes to being candid and forthright.

I suspect there is a revolutionary streak, which if unleashed, would shake up this place. His time at university overlapped with the Black Power Movement. I also suspect that there is deep concern, and perhaps even anger — maybe anger is too strong a word — with national development as these relate to family life, education, youth development, and more so, the level of crime. Crime across his parishes must perturb him. I risk his annoyance, and perhaps an “impish” tap-up for such speculative expressions, but it is natural to wonder about leaders and heroes.

From childhood, he was a mature and disciplined person, who as a devout Christian prospered emotionally among his flock. Not all of us were capable of such discipline and maturity. I remember when, as a child, I had knelt in St Francis Church, Belmont I often looked around at Catholic images and wondered why there were none that looked like the vast majority of children in the church. Why some “heavenly” beings — angels, cherubs and saints, did not look like the children kneeling before them. I was only a child then, but later in life, I wondered how such European metaphors affected children. Such thoughts had manifested in defiant and disdainful ways when I was a teenager in London and campaigned against apartheid and the imprisonment of Mandela.

Clyde Harvey was among the last three students who studied Greek under Fr Gras. Fondly known by his colleagues as the “last of the Greeks,” Harvey wanted to be a policeman and no doubt he had figured out how Greek would have helped him if he became a police! Back then he could not have known that anything would help us today, even Greek! Since he had studied politics, I wish he had become a politician to one day lead us out of the bondage of divisive politics. I’m sure he would have depoliticised national security, education and youth development.

His parishes are Rosary and Gonzalez. He is the Vicar for Clergy, looking after the welfare of fellow priests. He “labours long and hard, through mountains, down valleys, up hills.” His love transcends transgressions, and his wisdom reaches shores unknown.

Fr Clyde Harvey — a hero to thousands of people — reminds me of the benevolent Nubian priest kings who once dominated Egypt. He is a gift to us, a living legend, who has a distinguished place in many hearts, and our history.