The Life, Times, and Legacy of the Rev. Canon Lamuel Wellington Been

The story of The Rev. Canon Lamuel Wellington Been cannot be told without first telling the story of Salt Cay itself. As Sandra E. Garland writes, “I have known Canon Been all my life… and we grew up together on the small island of Salt Cay.” That intimacy of memory shapes everything that follows not an obituary, but a lived witness.

Canon Been was born on 22 February 1939 to “parents Vose Been and Exemenia Been (née Garland), known to us as Uncle Vose and Aunty Aggie.” He was “the youngest of three (3) boys,” raised in a community whose values were formed as much by trust as by faith.

Sandra pauses to explain the world that formed him, because without it, “the reader” would miss something essential. “No one – not one person during all of my twenty-two years living in Salt Cay ever locked their doors at night.” There was no fear, no suspicion—only shared responsibility. “This is the kind of socio-political environment that produced Lamuel Wellington Been and his peers.”

Canon Been’s first work was humble, precise, and public. “At 6.00 o’clock every morning from Monday to Friday, Lemuel had to walk to the office to ring the bell announcing a new day.” That bell summoned men to the salt ponds. Later, “at 9.00 a.m. the bell was rung again, and a black ball was hoisted… to alert the workers… that it was time to return home for breakfast.”

Sandra remembers the details because they mattered. “At 10.00 o’clock the black ball was lowered… This was also a signal for the students to fall in lines and march into the school building.” At noon, the bell rang again. At six in the evening, the day was formally closed. “The bell was again rung at 6.00 p.m. and the ball lowered signifying the end of the day.”

Nothing about this was symbolic at the time—it was practical. Yet it trained a young man in faithfulness, rhythm, and service. “Bells ringing was part of our British legacy,” she writes, noting how the same sound called people not only to work, but “to worship services on Sundays.”

Long before ordination, Lamuel belonged to the Church. “In addition to his duties at the Government Office, Lamuel also rang the bell at John’s Anglican Church, where he became a fixture at the Altar and in various other roles.” Sandra is unequivocal: “He loved his duties at the Church.”

Even as a boy, his calling was audible. “His beautiful baritone voice during services… left no doubt that he was happy to be worshipping in his beloved Church.”

Life carried him beyond Salt Cay. “In January of 1959, Lamuel relocated to Grand Turk,” later managing the country’s only hardware store and then leading in the insurance sector. Yet even as responsibilities grew, so did his service. “Lamuel was an avid Boy Scout… and it was no surprise when he rose through the scouting ranks to become a Scout Master.”

Sandra recalls how wide his influence stretched: “He was always mentoring young men in these civic and religious community settings.” Music, cricket, community leadership—nothing was held at arm’s length.

Then came the turning point. “In 1970… Lamuel believed God was calling him into ordained ministry.” The decision was costly. “He dropped everything to answer God’s call, despite many setbacks and drawbacks that would have daunted the average person.”

With unwavering support from his family, “leaving his beloved wife, Cynthia, his mother, and seven children who supported him completely,” he entered Codrington College. Sandra names it for what it was: “Here was a man whose faith in his God was manifested throughout the Diocese.”

Canon Been did not seek comfort in ministry. He went where he was sent. “Fr. Been threw himself wholeheartedly into his ministry with vigour, eagerness and an unwavering faith.” He served Salt Cay, Grand Turk, South Caicos, Providenciales, Eleuthera, and Bimini—often “one priest administering six congregations.”

Sandra records his joy plainly: “He was overjoyed to witness the completion of the building and its dedication” of St. Monica’s Church. Repairs, renovations, pastoral care—“his involvement extended into civic life” as naturally as breathing.

In 1999, he was installed as a Canon and became “the first Rector of the newly elevated Pro-Cathedral of St. Mary the Virgin in Grand Turk.” His service was recognized by Queen Elizabeth II, yet Sandra grounds that honor in character: “He was a gentleman in every sense of the word.”

Of his family, Sandra writes with quiet pride. “Canon Lamuel Been and his wife Cynthia were blessed with seven (7) children, all of whom have become upstanding, notable sons and daughters.” Of Fr. Bernard Been, she notes simply: “which is not a surprise to anyone.”

And then, the farewell unadorned, honest, earned:

“Canon Lemuel Been has lived an exemplary life and left a great legacy for his generations. His captivating voice, which boomed in choirs across the Bahamas and the Turks and Caicos Islands, is forever etched in our memory. His footprints are deeply embedded in the sands of time across our archipelago.”

“Rest on, beloved Canon.”