I knew Reuben in the 'old days' when he played on the Flying Cloud, at Poor Richards, Bananas, The Pub, Prospect Reef, well....all over. My buddy Rick Norton (Poor Richards) had a special relationship with Reuben, and constantly harangued him to be recorded....back then on tape. Reuben always resisted, and absolutely refused to fly to the States.
When I established my own charterboat business, wherever I saw Reuben (with my guests in tow) he would always thank me with a fist bump - even in the middle of a song. I would like to consider Reuben my friend, and I guess he was. Even after I left the BVI, and whenever I returned with my family, I received the same fist bump. Reuben was the quintessential original West Indian - kind, generous, deeply religious, protective of his island, resistant to the colonial government, simple in his wants and needs, gentle in his ways, but firm in his beliefs. I'm sure that Reuben died in the same wooden shack that he lived in all his life.
Reuben's BVI doesn't exist anymore, and that saddens me. I'm so glad that I lived it when it did.
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