Uncle Ian, I will surely miss you.

You made the best cow heel soup anyone could ever taste. Your channa soup was just as legendary—there wasn’t a single person who came to our home, tried it, and didn’t ask for another cup. It was truly famous.

And if you ever got into a conversation with Uncle Ian about politics, you had better be prepared! If you were on the opposite side, you knew you were in for a lively passionate debate.

Who will take all our family pictures and make sure they’re printed? Who will decorate the yard with Christmas lights every year?

Your humility, kindness, and willingness to always do for others will be deeply missed. Thank you for the memories, the laughter, and the love you shared with all of us.

Sleep in eternal peace, Uncle Ian. You will never be forgotten.

Akisha Harradan

03/07/26, 4:26 am

Just a couple of days ago my sister Lorna and I were laughing about one of the times that Ian and the liming crew was at our home ( that was during covid and I think we couldn't have more than ten assembled ) so we were taking photos outside, when we called Ian he said he wanted no part of that (it's already so much of us and we making so much noise he said)....he retreated to the kitchen....Ian was very close with my husband Kenny, I know he would miss him a lot so would the other members of the posse.

Still can't believe he's no longer here.

Sandra Grimes Redhead

03/07/26, 3:58 am

I’m Shirma John, Ian’s sister.
My Baby Brother, Ian was a happy soul. Growing up, he always seemed to be in his own little world, taking his time with everything he did. If anyone told him to hurry up with a tasks, he'd simply say, "What happen to you? You want to do it?"

I remember when he was getting ready for school at Trinity College, Moka. My mother would say, "Yuh going to be late for the bus!" Ian would calmly reply, "Okay, Ah going." She would then say, "Have a good day at school," and without missing a beat, Ian would answer, "I not going to school as yet. I going to the toilet." That was Ian, always keeping us laughing.

Another memory that has stayed with me happened near Belmont Intermediate School. There was a bicycle leaning against a wall, and Ian touched the handle. An elderly gentleman started shouting at him. I couldn't stand by and watch, so I stepped in and told the man to "stop shouting at my little brother". Well’’’ that man responded by hitting me one box in my mouth. I ran home to get my father, but by the time we returned, the man was gone.

Then Ian had the nerve to look at me and say, "That good for you. He wasn't talking to you, and you went up in de man face."My father just shook his head and said, "Next time, don't defend him… if that's what he has to say." Imagine that, I ended up with a busted lip, and Ian found the whole thing halarious.

That was my brother. He always had a way of making us laugh, even in the most unexpected moments. But beyond his sense of humor, Ian was kind, understanding, and deeply loving. He was always there for his family, and that is how I will always remember him.

Although I cannot be physically at the funeral today, please know that I am with you in mind, heart, and spirit. My last conversation with Ian was just two days before he passed, and true to himself, he had me laughing. I will forever treasure that conversation and the love we shared.

My beloved brother, you have now gone to be with our father, our mother, and our oldest sister. Knowing that brings me comfort.
Rest peacefully, my baby brother. You will always be loved, remembered, and missed.

Love you,
Shirma

Shirma John

03/07/26, 2:52 am