Dad: My Compass for Life
Raised in the rural farming community of Treasure Beach, St Elizabeth, Odain Blake grew up watching his dad turn red earth into bountiful harvests. The first of six children, he witnessed more of his father’s long days than any of his siblings. Waiting up until 2:00 am became routine, just to see his father return after a long day working the land.
His father, Renford, started farming at the age of 12. He attended a shift school, so as soon as school was out, he would happily rush home to help his mother till the soil. Fifty years later, the same hands that helped his mother now guide his son through the rows of watermelon, cantaloupe, and honeydew melon crops.
Renford never chased titles or praise. Instead, he raised crops and the character of his children with equal care. Even at 42 years old, Odain still looks to his father for guidance. His discipline, humility, and steady presence continue to shape the man he strives to be.
Style Observer (SO): Tell us about your dad.
Odain Blake (OB): He’s a real one. Quiet man, but when he talks, you listen. He’s the kind of person who just gets up every day and does what needs to be done. There’s no fuss, no show. Since I was small, I used to wait for him to come home late from the farm, even if it was 2 a.m. I just wanted to be near him. I never saw farming as hard because he made it look like it was a higher calling.
SO: What song reminds you of him?
OB: He never really talked much about music, and I can’t say I ever heard him sing. But he had this soft spot for gospel songs. Sometimes early in the morning or late at night, you’d hear one playing low in the background. Right now, Goodness of God by CeCe Winans is his newest favourite, so it reminds me of him.
SO: What’s a lesson you didn’t appreciate until you got older?
OB: Patience. Back in 2007, I was ready to start farming full-time. I had energy, I had plans. But my dad told me to wait. He said, “Now’s not the season,” and at the time, I thought he was just holding me back. But he wasn’t. He was teaching me that timing matters, in farming and in life. Some crops can’t grow year-round, and neither can you get everything you want when you want it. That lesson means more to me now that I’m older; I see why he never rushed into anything.
SO: How did your dad’s relationship with money influence yours?
OB: He is big on saving. He didn’t care about looking rich; he cared about having enough when it mattered. He was building security, not showing off. I’ve taken that same mindset with me. I don’t chase hype; I chase stability which means having funds for a rainy day.
SO: What’s the proudest your dad has ever been of you?
OB: My high school graduation, no question. He’s not a man of big expressions or long talk, but he was there with a big smile on his face. I think it meant a lot to him because he made it a priority to send all of us to school, high school and university, and seeing me walk across that stage was proof that his sacrifices paid off.
SO: If you could relive one ordinary day with your dad, what would it look like?
OB: We’d be in the field, just me and him, sun barely up. No big conversation, just the two of us working, digging, planting, moving through the land like we’ve done it forever. Maybe he’d stop to show me a better way to set the vines. Just a regular day where I get to watch him do what he loves and be beside him doing it.
SO: June is Father’s Month. What do you want your dad to know?
OB: I’ve been watching you my whole life. From the days I used to wait up for you late at night, to now when we’re side by side in the field. I get it now. All the things you didn’t say, I understand them clearer as I get older. You taught me to move smart, to save, to take care of the people around me. I’m proud to carry your name, and even prouder to walk beside you.