By the time he arrived at North Street in September 1973 Delano Franklyn could swing the cricket ball in both directions. You might play for the inswinger, only to give a thick outside edge to the fielder in the gully. Or you could play for the outswinger, only to hear the cracking sound of your middle stump being knocked back on to the pitch.

“Firemen”

This was by third form, but from first form Franklyn marked himself out as one of the leading pace bowlers at KC’s Melbourne Park. There were really four “firemen” in his year: “Dicko” Dixon, who grew up under the shadows of Sabina Park; John Murdock, with the long, fast run-up of a steam train; Peter Smith, a “leftie” with the height and pace of “Big Bird” Garner; and Franklyn.

Franklyn was probably not the quickest of the bowlers, that award would have to go to Smith or Murdock. Nor did he have the most devastating bouncer, for that Dicko was the ruler. But he stood out for consistency. He was always penetrative, always on a challenging line and length, and most of all, always delivering positive results for his team. These cricketing characteristics were to stay with him on the many and varied paths of life that he took in later years.

Franklyn did not confine himself to pace bowling. As a cricketer, in his teen years, young Franklyn had a strong arm. He had, in particular, the pronounced ability to hit cover drives with the power to tear your socks off. According to memory, when he hit that “cork and tar” ball, you made sure that you were not in the way. In truth, he was a touch tentative to full length off breaks (such as those coming from classmates Richard Francis or Courtney Sinclair), but he hammered all short deliveries confidently down to the old pavilion that once overlooked the Melbourne cricket field. Among class contemporaries, probably only Andrew Tuckett could hit the ball as hard as Franklyn.

A Question

This recollection of “Lano’s” outstanding cricket prowess — no doubt honed from his rural roots in Aleppo, St Mary, and nourished at the KC — raises a question for aficionados. Why didn’t Franklyn play Sunlight Cup cricket for KC? Afterall, up to fourth form he was truly outstanding, and in second form he had successfully represented the All Star team in the annual match at Winchester Park against St George’s College. The answer, it seems to me, is political, with a heroic ‘P’. Franklyn gave up cricket, perhaps akin to the “silken dalliance” in the wardrobe of the youth for the fire of political hustings.

By the time Franklyn reached fifth form he had committed his life to the political advancement of Jamaican people. In about 1975 or 1976, Franklyn became a major soldier in the serious business of bringing about social and economic change in this country. Michael Manley was an early source of inspiration for Franklyn: ideologically, then, he started on the democratic socialist left and then tended further left, possibly greeting the Workers’ Liberation League and the Workers’ Party of Jamaica along the way. In subsequent years, he returned to the People’s National Party (PNP) centre, there to play an active role as special adviser to Prime Minister P J Patterson, then to serve as a thoughtful minister of state in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and later still as special adviser to Prime Minister Portia Simpson Miller.

Intellectual

Franklyn brought intellectual strength and tenacity into his political arguments because he was, above all, an intellectual. To revert once again to the formative Melbourne years, Lano (as he was sometimes called) assumed the Fortis mantle in September 1971, coming with Bruce Polson and others from Norman Gardens Primary. He joined a first form that included, among many others, “Beaver” McKoy, “Half-Pint” Smith, “Staf” Stafford, “Screechy” Mitchell, Howard Walters, “GB” Brown, Richie Dyche, “Becky” Beckford, Dougie McKenzie, Charlton Collie, Colin Gabay, Archie “The Vet” Phillips, “Stumbo” Hylton, Maurice Matthie, and “Millip Philler”.

Franklyn’s strong performance in school took him to Mico Teachers’ College and then to The University of the West Indies (UWI) where he flourished in his law studies. His qualifications did not confine him to legal technicalities for he had a broad vision of life. Among other things, he published The Right Move: Corporate Leadership and Governance in Jamaica (2001) and edited A Jamaican Voice in Caribbean and World Politics: P J Patterson Selected Speeches 1992 – 2000 (2002). He also edited Michael Manley: Putting People First (2013), a book with 10 lectures given to the Michael Manley Foundation by some established and emerging members of the Caribbean intelligentsia. He was a politician with a love for books, a fact which was foreshadowed by his appreciation of English literature in the exciting classes with Beryl Urquhart at Melbourne. In one of those classes Franklyn scored 94 per cent in a difficult final examination about Jack Schaefer’s Shane, a memorable feat because Mrs Urquhart tended to give the best English essays little more than 70 per cent, and certainly not 90 per cent.

Here I should also note that Franklyn was also keen on the elements of economics, and especially on the concept of marginal revenue and its relationship with marginal cost.

Laughter

The young Franklyn had a refreshing sense of humour. True, he did not rise to the heights of Noel Leon (whose name is a palindrome in every respect), but he had his moments. Mr Bair, an illustrious but stern geography teacher, once told the second form class about Cayenne (capital of French Guiana): “Yes, class, please repeat, ‘Cayenne’, for me.” Franklyn, the humourist, led the class by repeating, “Cayenne for me” instead of just “Cayenne”, an approach that evoked group laughter, especially when Mr Bair joined in by giving Franklyn a deliberate and obvious “plastic smile”.

Group laughter also erupted when Franklyn, at 12 years of age, read at school assembly the beautiful love chapter from 1 Corinthians:13. “When I was a child, I spake as a child,” Franklyn offered in a high treble. “But now that I am a man I have put away childish ways,” he then intoned, switching to the senior bass voice of a 50-year-old man. Not even the disciplinarian vice-principal, Carlton Bruce, could keep a straight face that morning.

Rowe Row

When Franklyn was a child he revelled in the glories of Lawrence Rowe. From Melbourne Park we all celebrated Rowe’s world record-breaking 214 and 100 not out on debut in 1972, dancing and singing at school as if we were in the raucous stands at Sabina Park. Bliss was it that day to be alive and “to be young was very heaven”.

And yet when Franklyn became manly he had to put away the youthful admiration of Rowe to firmly support a policy that barred Rowe’s restoration to the pantheon of West Indies cricket. This must have been a difficult task for Franklyn, but he had the historic cause of anti- apartheid equality in his heart. This cause trumped Franklyn’s personal cricket-loving sentiments even 30 years after Rowe’s participation in the rebel South African cricket tour of 1983.

Mr Fix-It

For much of his life Franklyn was a “Mr Fix-It”. As president of the KC Students’ Council, as president of the Mico Students’ Association, and as president of the Guild of Students at The UWI, Mona, and Cave Hill, he powerfully led the march for greater State support for tertiary education.

As Minister of State he helped to ensure that Jamaica’s archipelagic baseline system received acceptance in the Law of the Sea Convention (a technical but important issue) and as a lawyer he was a strong advocate of the Caribbean Court of Justice, publishing a leading book of parliamentary presentations on the subject under the title We Want Justice (2004). Through the firm Wilson & Franklyn (founded 1998) and in his personal capacity, he also quietly served as a lawyer for various projects, including some associated with the KC Old Boys’ Association.

Franklyn was named after the American president. Up to the KC years he was “Franklin”, but he noted that this was changed by the authorities to “Franklyn” at some stage, a not unfamiliar Jamaican phenomenon. His presidential namesake espoused upliftment for the poor through the New Deal for the USA. It is fair to say that a New Deal approach, when combined with the heady rhetoric of Jamaica in the 1970s, set Franklyn on the lifelong path towards equality, fairness, and justice for all.

Fortis

His life was much too short, but in his 63 years he has done his family and his society proud. His KC comrades in the pavilion and beyond — those who remember his fiery pace bowling and those who do not — must all give a sad but loving “Fortis!” to a true College man, a fighter for righteousness.

“The brave may fall but never yield!”

Ambassador Stephen Vasciannie is Professor of International Law in the Faculty of Law at The University of the West Indies, Mona.