Joseph 'Patch' Silcott

In Fond Memory of Joseph “Patch” Silcott

My earliest memories of Patch predate his service as a police officer. He was a cousin and neighbour who made me feel safe before he had the uniform and badge that spoke of safety to others. This, I will always remember about him and hold dear.

As time progressed, he became a husband and father, a responsibility that he carried with pride and love. One way in which he demonstrated this was by naming them with care, realising that their names spoke to his dreams and hopes for them, while he honoured the legacy of his ancestors. I recall him explaining to me, when Marcia was born, how he chose and crafted Marcia’s name and the significance of the spelling and pronunciation. He did not intend it as a lesson. He was simply sharing with a young cousin, but that was a lesson that impressed upon me the significance of a person’s name.

As a police officer, he stood as a guardian of peace, not just in uniform but in spirit. His badge was not just a symbol of authority—it was a reflection of his heart: steadfast, respectful, and true.

Though his watch has ended, his legacy lives on in his children and grandchildren of whom he was most proud, and the lives he touched. We’ll remember him not only for what he did, but for who he was: a protector, and a pillar of quiet strength.

May his memory be a blessing, and may we carry forward the values he embodied.

Rest in sweet peace in the arms of Jesus, dear cousin.

My dear friend, Patch

We are all saying goodbye to someone very special. To me, Patch was more than just a friend. Patch and I have known each other since childhood. Not many people would know that we both went to school at St. Peter’s. I moved to Brades Primary School for one year before migrating overseas. I returned to Montserrat for the first time in 1975, and it was nice to see my school friend again. Our friendship reignited, and we spent two months creating lasting memories. We had fun talking about our school days. We enjoyed many adventures, hunting for fruits and going to the beach.

What a pleasant surprise it was to see my friend in London. After several years living in America, I had just permanently moved back to London, when I went to Ridley Market one day and we ‘bumped into each other’. It was as if time and distance did not affect our friendship. We spent quality time together, talking on the phone - we called each other many times, and would often go out to eat at his favourite restaurant, Brown Eagle in Tottenham. Often, I would tease him and say, “Let’s go to the one at Wood Green”, and his response was “Who is older?”. Signalling that I must respect him as the older one.

It was a great pleasure to know Joseph 'Patch' Silcott. If I had the opportunity to choose an older brother, I would love it if it were you! Rest in peace, my dear friend! You are gone, but I will always remember what we meant to each other. You will surely be missed.

Joseph Stephen Silcott, aka Grey Patch, you came and for 76 years, you have seen and tried to change the landscape in which you found yourself. You had a big heart, you loved people and did your best to help them in whatever way you could. You loved your family dearly, and though sometimes you were misunderstood, you were there for them.

You loved your children with a passion and wanted only the best for them. Your interest in their education ensures you attended the parent-teacher meetings at Brades school most times. You spoke of them with pride, and though they were all different in character, you understood them and tried your utmost best to be there for each one.

You loved your mother, Queen Victoria Silcott and spoke of her often and tried your best to see her comfortable in her latter years. You loved your siblings as much as possible and was at peace with them.

You made friends easily and loved and treated them well. Many will sing your praises as you were the catalyst for change in their lives. You were my relative, my friend, and we were each other’s confidant. I was one of the witnesses at your wedding that early morning at Cudjoe Head Pentecostal church. You and Rose were in love, but as Charlie Harry would say, love breaks, but friendship never ends.

You had a good sense of humour and would have people around you cracking up with laughter.

You dressed well, and when you went out, you took centre stage with your dressing. Everything matched from hat to shoes. As we would say, you were dressed to kill.

You were a smooth dancer and had a lot of style and moves; even in your old age, you would put the youngsters to shame. And even in your dancing, you would make people laugh, with all the flourish and style. You were the life of the party.

You played an active role in community groups and in the affairs of the village as a whole. In that regard, you were a member of the Cavalla Hill youth group, and one can still remember the fun days of serenading at Christmas time. From Cudjoe Head to Plymouth. You were also a member of the Christ Ambassadors of the Cudjoe head mission.

As a policeman, you worked in different districts, including the Airport. You were rough when you had to, but for the most part, you dealt with your work challenges peaceably. Seems like I was always around to witness for you. When you were stabbed in Cork Hill, I was the main witness again, as I was sitting in the car when it happened.

We went all over the place together, as the saying goes, to church, school and play.

Above all, you became a Christian and remained so to your death, and to quote Maya Angelo,

“When you said you were a Christian, you were not shouting you are clean living, you were whispering I was lost but Jesus found and forgave me.,
When you said you were a Christian, you weren’t trying to be strong. You were professing you are weak, and need God's strength to carry on “. In short, you lived your Christianity humbly and practically.

We had many conversations about this super being that propels the universe, and here I must conclude that you believed in God, the creator.
In your latter days, you struggled and you were challenged, but still had a sense of humour. You spent your last days with your children around you, and I know that meant a lot to you.

I am sure you would have it no other way, you lived life to the full, you enjoyed your life, and whether some thought you were troublesome, opinionated, annoying, friendly, arrogant, loving or kind, what matters most is that you did it your way.

So I’ll sum it all up in the words of this song by Frank Sinatra, “I Did It My Way”

“And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain,
I've lived a life that's full.
I traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all, and I stood tall
And did it my way

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way
“

Farewell, my friend, you had a good life.
We loved you well. But Jesus loved you best, so enter into your rest.
Rest in peace and rise in Glory.

A tribute to our loving brother

Joseph ’Patch’ Silcott, aka Willie Brown, was loved by all of his siblings. We hold dear our memories, as we reflect on the many conversations about the times we spent together with you as our older brother. One such lasting memory is that of taking Neville to cut honey at a very young age. Neville (Patch’s nephew) always talked about the times when Patch came to St Peter's to visit his paternal siblings and would take him on adventures, such as going to the mountain to cut honey. Neville was very young at the time and loved going to cut honey with his uncle Patch. Neville is now all grown up and still cutting honey as part of his livelihood in Antigua. A tradition that was passed down from our father to Patch, and which he ensured was passed on to the next generation.

As Patch’s youngest paternal sister, I fondly recall my walks from St Peter's to Cudjoe Head and back to St Peter's every Saturday to spend the day with him and his family. At that time, Patch only had Dave, Keisha, and Vance. Patch and I always kept in contact with each other.

I spoke to Patch two days before I left the UK. I told him that I'm going to Montserrat and he told me that he wanted to come to Montserrat, so I asked him what he wanted to go to Montserrat for? He said to me that he wanted to go to Baker Hill, so I said okay. I told him I will be back on the 30th of August.

A few days after leaving the UK, I got a call from my nephew Leon, and there was my Brother Patch lying in the hospital bed with drips. My eyes just filled with water. As the days and weeks passed and I called, things weren't the same. It really pains my heart because I prayed and hoped that he would get better. I hope that I will be able to visit him on my return to the UK at the end of the month. The day before he died, I talked to him. Even though he wasn't responding, I knew he could hear. I told him that I'd be coming to see him in two weeks, but the Lord knows what’s best. My Brother Patch couldn't hold on any longer, so he went to be with his Saviour the following day, which was 18th August 2025. One day after his sister Eutrice Daway's birthday.

Patch will be missed by us all. Sleep in eternal peace, my brother Patches.

A Tribute to Joseph S. Silcott (Grey Patch)

This is a heartfelt tribute to my beloved cousin, Joseph S. Silcott, affectionately known as Grey Patch, from myself and the rest of the family.

We will forever treasure the memories we shared with you—from the days of hunting agouti in the bush to the countless adventures that filled our lives with laughter and joy. You were more than just a cousin; you were a pillar in our family, a source of strength, wisdom, and unwavering support. Your presence brought warmth and unity to every gathering. The stories you told, the lessons you taught, and the love you gave will remain with us always. Though your physical presence will be deeply missed, your spirit will continue to guide and inspire us.

As you journey on, we find comfort in knowing that Aunt Ann is waiting with open arms to welcome you into your heavenly home. Rest peacefully, Grey Patch. Your legacy lives on in our hearts, and the memories we created together will never fade.

To the bereaved, from my family to yours, we offer the deepest condolences for your loss and pray you all find comfort in the Lord.

With love and remembrance,

My dear family and friends of my beloved cousin, Patch.

Our hearts are shattered by the loss of our dear father, grandfather, brother, cousin, uncle, and friend. As we mourn the loss of Grey Patch, Patches, or Pops—whatever name we lovingly called him—we will draw strength from God, knowing that he is no longer in pain or suffering. I was fortunate enough to speak with him and let him know exactly how I felt about him while he was alive, so in death, I can tell our family that we will draw strength from God, knowing that he is at peace.

Growing up in Montserrat as a young teenager, I had the privilege of being with my cousin. When I wanted to learn to drive, I asked him, "Why should I drive? I have no car." He turned to me and said, "My car is your car." We looked at each other and started to laugh because he called it the "Love Bug." It was a sharp-looking car, so he told me, "You go get your license, and we will figure it out." I got my license, and of course, you would see me driving up and down, going from North to Salem in my cousin's car. He held nothing back from me.

We were close over the years, and I helped raise his children and became a part of his family. The day I decided to leave for America, he was the only one who knew where I was going. He took me to the airport, and I told him, "Tell everybody I'm going to Antigua." He just laughed, thinking I was a little crazy.

He will be dearly missed. My prayers are with his children, grandchildren, and their families. Sleep in peace, cuz, until we meet again.
Romans 14:8 - "For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord. Whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's."

With Love

Tribute to my long-standing brother/friend Joseph "Patch" Silcott by Clifford “Shawduck” Ryan

You are gone but will never be forgotten. Your memory I will retain in my heart. You have lived a good life. You remained true to your values. By practice and reputation, you defended your job as a police officer. I salute you!

Growing up together, you have taught me some very valuable lessons that have made our friendship better each and every day. I can remember when you would say, "I am your friend, and if you overload that bus, I would personally lock you up." Thinking of it today, I know Patch was that person who would not be bribed under any circumstances. Another valuable lesson you taught was that there's a difference between Give and Lend. “If you ask me for something and I give you, I wouldn't be looking for it in return, but if I lend you something, I definitely would be asking you back for it.” Patch was very serious.

Rose was my cousin, so apart from our friendship, I played a special part in the family. I think I was the family ambulance for every baby born in that family. I drove Rose to the hospital in Plymouth for delivery, sometimes unaware that it is a new baby coming into the family due to Rose's size [lol].

Our friendship remained intact whether he was in the UK or Montserrat. In his latter days, when visiting Montserrat, if I heard someone calling "Dolphus," I knew it was Patch, for that's my nickname, and that’s what he would call me. We spent a night together on his last visit to Montserrat, which would always remain a landmark in our friendship.

May his soul rest in peace.

How does one summarise decades of friendship in a few sentences? That is both a tall order and the only option.

My cousin Patch, whom I refer to as my friend, knowing that a friend sticketh closer than a brother, was special to me. In fact, I consider myself fortunate to have had Patch in my life. We shared so many conversations on Clifford’s passenger bus, either going to or from Plymouth or when we met up in general. Most of our conversations had to include some excitement that we would roar in laughter; his laughter will continue to echo in my heart.

During one of our last conversations, I was telling him about my grandchildren, and he told me to hold. He began to count his, and you guessed correctly, my count of three was not close to his. I will treasure his memories. Patch was a family person and provided for his family. He always spoke proudly of his children as they achieved in life. He was strict but wanted the best for all of us; sure enough, I got my share of scolding. He was known to say what was on his mind, which is a superior quality and hallmark of a true friend. As we say our final goodbyes, I am reminded of one verse of the song, “Does Jesus Care”?

Does Jesus care when I’ve said “goodbye”
To the dearest on earth to me

And my sad heart aches
Till it nearly breaks,
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?

Brothers, sisters, children, grandchildren, other relatives and friends, the response is resounding: O yes, He cares, I know He cares.

On behalf of my family, I urge you to take comfort knowing that our father cares, and we look forward to the first resurrection of the dead when we will see our brother and friend again, if we remain faithful.

My uncle Patch was a man of simple pleasures devoted to his family. His presence lit up the room whenever he was around. My fondest memories as a child are whenever I visited Montserrat, he would ALWAYS take time out of his busy schedule to carry me and Icilma to visit other family members and tell us stories about his childhood. His kindness and infectious laughter will be deeply missed. His departure leaves a space that can not be filled. Continue to sleep in peace, until we meet again.

Dear Uncle Patch,

May you sleep peacefully. Your journey here is done, but your presence will never fade from my memory. I will always remember the kindness you carried, even under your sternness. Your courage and confidence taught me that I could accomplish anything. As a little girl, I looked up to your strength — I will always carry this in my heart.
Rest easy

Joseph S Silcott (No 93) was a member of the Royal Montserrat Police Force, now called the Royal Montserrat Police Service. He joined the Force in 1977 and was trained in Barbados in 1978, with seven other officers. On his return from Barbados, he was stationed at Police Headquarters, Plymouth, where he worked as a Beat and Patrol Officer. He also worked at the Cudjoe Head and Salem Police Stations. Mr. Silcott later served as an Immigration Officer. From all reports, he was well-liked by the general public, as he discharged his duty with due diligence and compassion. He was a peacemaker, well-liked by his peers and the Montserrat community at large.

As we say farewell to a departed brother, may God's perpetual light shine upon him and may he rise in glory. To the rest of the family, my condolences. Rest on my brother.

Tribute to Joseph Stephen Silcott aka Willie Brown, or Grey Patch

I knew of Willie Brown, Willie Parpa, before I even met him. My first memory of this name was from my aunt and grandmother (who was Patch’s godmother). They spoke lovingly and humorously about this little boy who walked between Mama Sissy’s house (his maternal grandmother) and his mother’s house at the top of Baker Hill. They said that they would deliberately ask him questions just to get answers from this precocious little boy who, I guess, was less than 5 years, and had ‘plenty chat’.

This little lad subsequently left the village for a while and suddenly returned to Cavalla Hill School as an older boy with the name Joseph Stephen Silcott. He was still very confident and did not back down from any verbal challenge.

On his way to his paternal and maternal grandmothers’ so he would stop by our house. I remember the times he spent with us doing chores and watching TV, especially boxing and wrestling. As he watched, he was very animated and behaved like he was one of the boxers in the ring. Full of youthful energy and zeal, he was bobbing and weaving, throwing punches and upper cuts, during the matches. He became a fixture around our house, and he taught me how to make dumplings and roast them with sweet potatoes in a wood fire. He would never fail to remind me and my siblings of my early attempts at making flour pap, which resulted in many half-cooked lumps of flour.

Patch was very close to my deceased brother, Kenty, who was much younger than him. He would sometimes get Kenty into mischief, especially when he wanted to ‘pull a prank on me’ to get some of my dinner. These memories of our childhood are filled with fun and laughter, with reflections of my grandmother scolding me for succumbing to Patch’s tricks.

He gave his heart to Jesus at a young age and was part of our youth group at Zion Pentecostal Church (Cudjoe Head, Montserrat), where Joseph played an active role in the group and was very competitive in Bible quizzes. It was during this time that he met and got married to Rose and started a family. I was so pleased when he asked me to be the godmother of his first child, Dave. Patch loved his children and was extremely proud of their accomplishments. He always encouraged his children to attend church. They attended the Pentecostal church until they migrated to England due to the Volcanic crisis.


Although Joseph had few opportunities for continuous education, he was an extremely intelligent person and a quick learner. He loved watching TV and listening to the radio and was able to learn about current affairs. He was very assertive with sound arguments on any topic he chose. He was a vibrant member of the Cudjoe Head Community and spent many hours playing draft and dominoes with friends. Patch had the gift of gab. He was very confident and articulate. It was no surprise that he was able to join the ranks of the Montserrat Police Force. He wore his uniform with pride and distinction, representing his family, his villages of Baker Hill and Cudjoe Head.

He left Montserrat over 20 years ago, as many others would have done. When he returned home a few years ago, I was very sad that he did not quite remember me or my son Dion, with whom he always shared some lighthearted banter. We mourn his passing and we pray that his children, siblings, relatives and the entire Baker Hill and Cudjoe Head Community find comfort in the fact that he recommitted his life to Jesus and is resting in peace.

We will remember, Patch...

P – his passion and pragmatic approach to life. Learning survival skills at a very early age equipped him to help others in impactful ways. A man of sound advice. He kept it real and profound with illustrations that cause you to think. "Don't buy cat in a bag"

A – assertive and articulate with a unique attraction. A true Silcott who was comfortable in his own skin with an aura that commanded respect. He held to his convictions and was able to convey them to others, whether through jest or stern rebuff. Crossing set boundaries meant an encounter you will remember. Elegantly dressed, a trend setter whose presence was always seen and felt. "Be proud of those lips" “You see the brown eyes”

T – a tenaciously tough man. Through the many shared adventures and experiences, we have seen his ability to weather the vagaries of life with skill and a strong determination. He fought his toughest battles in life like a true soldier, showing strength of character and mind. His grit and resilience are admirable. "Quitters never win - the Brigadier"

C- competitive, confident, creative and clannish. A quick learner with a sharp intellect and a strong desire to explore the things around him. He taught himself by experimenting. The family historian and bastion of preserving the family legacy. His charisma, though sometimes shrouded in a rough protective layer, made him unique. His presence was felt not only when he entered a room but by the utterance of his name. He played to win! "You lucky!"

H – our handsome hero with a good sense of humour. Very witty and knows how to get under your skin if you are overly sensitive. A caring father, a loyal brother and friend. To know and understand him is to love him. He taught discipline and respect in ways that have a lasting effect on the mind. "No one can cook like my wife [Rose]!"

My brother Patch was the third of 14 siblings by our mother. When he showed up, he was the man of the hour.

Patch was very intelligent. I marvelled at how he would pass every test with distinction, even though he missed some of his classes. As his older brother, our mother would have me discipline him for missing school.

Patch and his beautiful wife, Rose, have done a wonderful job raising their children.
I love the way that Patch prepared his children for life. Running rabbits and cutting honey, that’s so amazing. I pray for their continued strength and success in life.

May Patch's soul rest in peace!

My memories of Uncle Patch are less than my other relatives who grew up in the north. Nonetheless, I commiserate with my cousins who have lost their father and with mummy and her siblings who mourn the passing of their brother.
Please know that my children and I pray God's comfort over you all and your families during this very difficult time. Rest in peace Uncle Patch and rise in glory 🙏

Joseph Silcott better known as Patch, was truly a wonderful remarkable man, he was my friend, we got on well. Patch was a serious man but he was very witty and funny: he was a man of principle, a friend, he was a father who was very proud of his children, loved to watch cricket and loved to play dominoes, he was serious when it came to his dominoes. We did not see each other that much in recent years, but remained friends, he will surely be missed. Sincere condolences to Keisha, and the rest of his children, grandchildren, siblings and the entire family. Please take comfort from Isaiah 41:10. May his soul rest in eternal peace ☮️

Tribute on behalf of Joseph 'Patch' Silcott from Philip 'Jarla' Tuitt.

I have known 'Patch' from a tender age. It was my task, to deliver bread & cakes to his home before heading to Mongo Hill on the other side of the island.

It was easier and shorter to take the route through Cavalla hill, onto Barzeys. It was shorter than going through Carr's Bay & then up to St. John's.

I saw 'Patch' quite frequently because he was one of my mother's customer. We developed a friendship as time progresses. We spoke on several topics that was personal.

'Patch' and I played dominoes and draught on numerous occasions but the game was short lived, he migrated to the United Kingdom due to the volcanic crisis that had occurred when the devastation took place in the soufriere Hills of Montserrat.

As time progresses, we both realised that distance did not allow us to see each other as often as would have hoped.

When I visited the United Kingdom, I made it a duty to visit 'Patch' as often as I could whilst I was there, we would reminisce on the good times we shared in the past until his health began to decline. It became impossible to continue the visits as normal.

I truly missed all the good times we shared as friends over the years. My dear friend Joseph 'Patch' Silcott, you have lived a full life. You have taken your final steps, you have now completed your journey here on earth. God has chosen to call you to rest. Sweet may be your sleep my friend! Rest in Eternal peace.

RIP Patch. Gone, but not forgotten. You left a legacy behind.

Loved you in life, love you in death.
You will be dearly missed.
May your soul rest in eternal peace ☮️

He was a major thespian in the Cavalla Hill Youth Group, a comedian and a story teller! Fond memories, good times.

My condolences to the children. God’s loving comfort will surround you.

Many blessings.

Rest in peace cousin.

I have never had the honour of meeting you, ´Our’ Daddy (God Rest Your Soul and May your memory be Eternal), But having met your adorable daughters, Keisha and Marcia, along with your grandchildren…and from the very way they have always spoken of you, and have carried themselves, I can safely say that you must have been both a great and wonderful gentleman and father to have blessed this world with such well grounded and loving children, who never fail to spread good words, kindness and laughter wherever and whenever they show up.

My deepest sympathies on the loss of your dad goes out to you both and your entire family. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you all, in this trying time.

Praying to the Most High to strengthen you all with the strength that is found in unity and togetherness 🙏

My heart goes out to you during this challenging time 🙏
With love, respect and blessings 🙏
Aminta 💝

I have known Patch for many years. A strong-minded person. He loves to let his voice be known. Outspoken and doesn’t back down easily when he holds a point. We often shared greetings, words of encouragement and smiles. To the entire family I send my sincere condolences. He is gone to rest from the aches and pains he suffered. Patch will be greatly missed. RIP