At his invitation, we moved to his study. Here was an array of certificates that told the story of this stalwart. His achievements were impressive. His tri-umphs as a public notary were vested in his various accolades of accreditation.
He served the Cayman Islands with distinction as the first dental surgeon for 49 years – a far cry from his primeval years as a high school student, where, in his words “would not have qualified” for entry to the prestigious Emery University without this fundamental tuition at Munro College in St Elizabeth, Jamaica.
His first degree, a bachelor’s, was a precursor to his DDS, which required a further four years of study, then another year in Jamaica to gain the dental practitioners licence, being bonded by a scholarship from the government, he faithfully returned to serve.
But where did it all begin? His uncle, a visionary, saw a future in his scholastic aptitude and was instrumental in sending him and his brother to school in Jamaica. The year of his enrolment, 1943, took him from his home in Grand Cayman to Munro College in the deep rural backwoods of St Elizabeth, a township high up in the Santa Cruz Mountains, rivalling New Castle, a plateau halfway up the Blue Mountains, where there is a military training facility. Here, there is perennial forest, grey mist, cold and damp.
Located atop the Santa Cruz Mountains, Munro perched on a pedestal, a promontory overlooking the savannahs with a view as far as Negril in the west, an unobstructed panorama of the Caribbean Sea, (the view) pans out over the horizon with distinct clarity, sunsets with magnificently resplendent kaleido-scopic colours, viewed through the reminiscent prism of time (echoes of the school’s cheers reverberate in the air). In an age when everything is done with the click of a mouse, education and tertiary learning are sometimes taken for granted.
From Grand Cayman to Kingston, it’s a 45-minute flight. Travelling then by boat, the only mode of transport intra-island was a three-night, two-day journey in good weather. After two days’ stopover in Kingston, the 110-mile journey by train to Balaclava begins, arriving tired and fatigued, there was a further 30 miles of road travel to undertake – up a winding, mountainous trail to Munro, sometimes arriving there after 10pm, when other boys had already retired to bed.
Today we travel with suitcases. Back then, there were big trunks made from canvas or card wood – cum-bersome, to say the least.
Alternatively, he would travel by sea plane to Kingston harbour. Of course, this was at the height of World War II, so there was the imminent risk that the plane could be shot down. (German submarines were constantly scouting offshore._ If the bus was missed on arrival at Balaclava, the only al-ternative transport wa the royal mail van. There were the prevailing conditions that Dr. Edlin Merren faced as he sought to advance his academic career.
Munronians on or even off island will be proud of this pioneer of that illustrious institution, as Cayma-nians alike will join in feeling a sense of pride in the achievement of this 77-year-old, whose physical strength might be depreciating, but whose faculties are quite alert and intact.
Dr. Edlin served his country with integrity and selfless commitment, not for reward or attention.
Christopher Sutherland
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