I am one of the thousands of Jamaicans whose lives have been influenced by Dr the Hon Joyce Robinson. I had the privellege of working as a library assistant under the directorship of this iconic lady and I regard those short years 1964 to 1967 as a most important reference point for my personal career development.

As a young country boy entering the library service in 1964 I was blown away by the personality and image of this dynamic lady who had this immense leadership aura about her as she swept though the corridors of the Kingston Parish Library or the headquarters’ offices on Tom Redcam Avenue.

Mrs Robinson had a formidable team of senior officers with her including Mrs Hazel Bennett, Mrs Amy Robertson, and Miss Leila Thomas whose very demeanour was enough to make a young librarian wilt if caught up in any waywardness or departure from the strict code of conduct laid down for members of staff.

Paul Robertson (former government minister) stood duties with me as a rookie and we have on occasion shared some amusing recollections of the awe and reverence with which we viewed that management team.

Over the years I met my former director at other professional and social levels but never managed to get down to a good talk and much laughter until years after when we ran into each other at a function in Black River.

To my surprise and our mutual delight she not only reminded me of my youthful prankish behaviour at Tom Redcam, including what she called the untiring efforts of the trio to get me to wear a tie, but she also teased me about a few romantic connections with the Library staff that I had thought were secreted away from that hierarchical level.

Working for a short while in the branch library system I got to know her as an outstanding person who had the total love, devotion, loyalty and respect of her entire staff. The careful planning and meticulous eye for detail that the library service still continues to display in whatever project they undertake, these are qualities that they all learnt from sitting at the feet of Joyce Robinson.

I also got to admire her tireless energy. Mrs Robinson sometimes ran the service from the backseat of her black Ford motor car as she traveled night and day around the country vsiting and establishing libraries and book centres in every nook and cranny of the island. She often had a pillow in the back seat so that she could catch up on her sleep through the countless miles from post to post.

Every Librarian of that era has a story to tell about Joyce Robinson. Mine is a bit self-deprecating, as she trapped me once in The May Pen Library when she made an unannounced visit with all senior staff away, and me in charge. She did her inspection, asked the usual sharp, pertinent questions, wrote up the log, and was chauffeured away by the famous Mr Prince leaving behind an uncertain, nervous young man who had not done his homework.

“Mr Neita seemed a bit vague,” was her logged report, and to this day my friends and colleagues at the Library who found this incredibly funny have never allowed me to forget it.

Another recollection is when, following a visit to the Headquarters by Sir Alexander Bustamante in 1964, we heard how Mrs Robinson charmed Busta in 5 minutes to donate a needed section of Up Park Camp lands to the JLS.

As Hazel Bennet, a former director who was her assistant said: “She was generous of spirit, sharing in the happiness of her staff and their success, a Rock of Gibraltar in times of emotional stress and need. This spirit of caring extended to all members of her team, from the highest to the lowliest in all the organisations where she served.”

A staff member recalls preparing her mother’s gravesite for a funeral when Mrs Robinson showed up in the cemetery bearing a bunch of red roses. How does one ever forget such a caring gesture?

From Joyce Robinson we learnt the art of planning, organising, delegating, implementing, and taking responsibility for projects undertaken.

She was an absolute inspiration, a legend in her time, confident and sure footed in her walk through life, but humble enough to adopt the old Chinese proverb which says: “Every man is my teacher, and my task in life is to learn from him.”

Another tree has fallen in the forest. And the sound is deafening.

To Joyce Robinson, from all of us, with love.

Lance Neita is a writer and Public Relations Consultant who can be contacted at lanceneita@hotmail.com