September 18th, 2026
10:00 a.m.
University Chapel,
University of the West Indies,
Mona Campus
We have so many memories of George Soutar, a man who lived a joyous and purposeful life. He was a cerebral individual who was quiet in his disposition and thoughtful in his actions. He had a natural tendency to be soft natured, with a sharp sense of humor and a soft spoken voice.
He used to call us by the nicknames he settled on us – Mr. Butch and Miss Nick – and would often address us in that way particularly when he wanted us to remember the early years. He came into our lives as a friend of our father, Neville Lewis. Both studied law at Lincoln’s Inn in London. In those days we saw George often. We can’t remember the first time we met him because we were small children then, but what we do remember was the love he gave us. In between hours studying at a table in the living room, he played table tennis with us, he read books to us, he took us on sightseeing trips in London. We listened to the latest reggae music and himself and Toussaint shared a love for the Beatles.
We can never forget the support he gave our family when, at 9 years old, I (Nicole) had life threatening heart surgery. George often accompanied our parents to the hospital to support them when critical decisions were made. Luckily, the surgery was a success and the bond between George and our family grew stronger. Toussaint's first job in his teenage years was at George's law office. George was always there for us.
The 1970’s were critical years in Jamaica’s political history. In those years Dad helped build the Jamaica Labour Party, and in his outreach efforts he encouraged people to support the JLP’s cause. He felt George could make a tremendous contribution and introduced him to Edward Seaga. The party embraced him and benefited from his calm demeanor, his strength of character, his legal skills and his ability to resolve complex issues with foresight.
They were best friends and happy warriors. George campaigned with Dad in North West St. Elizabeth, he offered his services to constituents who needed legal advice, and he met his wife, Donna, on the campaign trail. Donna’s passing was a tremendous tragedy and one that came a few days after we buried our own mother, Jasmine. We shared our sorrows as close friends do.
If there’s one memory that stands out, it’s our last visit with George in late March of this year. George was humorous, thoughtful and contemplative. It was a beautiful in-person visit, rather than a video call. The visit gave us the chance to say the things we wanted to say in his presence. Days later we sent a text to let him know how wonderful it was to see him. We thanked him for being there for us throughout our lives. In his last text message to us George said: “I totally enjoyed the time we spent, and it was as if we were never separated by physical distance and time it was just a continuation. Things we recalled I often in my quiet moments reflect on because of the impact on my life at the time. I’m happy we met eventually. So Miss Nick and Mr. Butch all the best and keep in touch.”
George, we love you. You will remain in our hearts forever.
I first met Mr Soutar through my MP and Minister of Culture, Gender, Entertainment and Sport, Olivea Grange. While I was working as her vice chairman in her constituency, at that time Mr Soutar was a part of Minister Grange's campaign management team. Mr Soutar was someone who was always ready to engage you in any conversation with you and he was always there to give good advice to any questions you asked. Mr Soutar, we in St Catherine Central salute you for your unwavering commitment, kindness and the strong friendship you shared with us. You lived a meaningful life and left behind memories we will never forget.
Rest well, Uncle George.
We lost a brother today — positioned by design; for somehow, over the years, our lives became intertwined. A patriotic, Party brother, With warmth and humour Beneath our tears and sorrow Lives a gratitude so deep: For more than thirty-seven years of brotherhood, A treasure we will keep. As our immediate neighbour, we shared more than a boundary... for he stood for family. His presence was a constant, a Kodak-kind of brother — he was sublime. Mindful as he worked and built. Toeing the narrow line. He made character his purpose, endured through joy and tears; he gave his life its meaning. Quiet in his manner of care, His devotion was to his darling Donna, Sons, Christopher and Andrew, whom he held dear. Life moved around us; together we aged, as our families grew. He stood beside His darling Donna until, abruptly, angels wept. He continued in struggle and made grit of grief until the time he went. We who remain bear witness to his life, striving for right when wrong stands in the way. Chris and Andrew are his legacy made flesh. May they be courageous, stand, work, endure, live with character ‘til their last breath …Still… Now the house is quiet — Just as quiet as before. But silence has a different sound, because he’s there no more. The line between our houses isn’t quite the same. For though his house still stands, Something precious left with him — The ease of knowing a brother was next door. We lost a brother today— A patriotic, Party brother, A neighbour-brother, A brother in all the ways that truly count in this life. So today we grieve the loss of our brother, and tomorrow, we’ll grieve again. For grief is love remembering all that there has been. And when we look across the line, We’ll remember not the day he died, but the thirty-seven years He spent striving for life — Living with purpose, standing for his conviction, meeting adversity without surrender. That was the man George Soutar. That was the brother he became. So pardon us while we wipe away a tear. For we did not merely lose a neighbour today. We lost a brother dear.
When I first met George, I was struck by how different he was from the man I had imagined. George was soft-spoken, unassuming, almost gentle in his manner. There was no pretence about him, no need to occupy the room with his voice or his presence. Yet, beneath that quiet exterior was a man of great strength, conviction, loyalty and character.
At the time, George was in Chambers with Churchill Neita and Dorothy Lightbourne, both of whom were his lifelong friends.It was during those years that George and I began working together on the JLP Human Rights Committee, particularly in relation to the Claudius Massop killing and the Gold Street massacre. Those were difficult and turbulent times, and it was through that work, in circumstances that tested the character of many people, that George and I became friends. Our friendship was forged in those difficult moments and, as it turned out, would last for the rest of our lives.
We eventually opened Chambers together in 1990. In the early days, both of us practised most in the criminal courts. As George’s practice developed, he gravitated increasingly towards commercial work, and he built a reputation in that area. We remained partners until his passing.
Over the years, I had the privilege of watching George at close quarters as a lawyer. His approach to his work was characteristic of the man himself: he was always prepared, always detailed, always thoughtful and, above all, always calm. He never seemed to be rattled by the pressures of the courtroom. He understood that being a good lawyer was not simply about knowing the law; it was also about preparation, judgment, integrity and how you treated people.
And perhaps the greatest measure of George’s capacity as a lawyer was the relationships he maintained throughout his career. He had a good relationship with every judge before whom he appeared, every prosecutor against whom he appeared and every lawyer with whom he appeared. That is no small achievement in our profession. I cannot remember ever hearing a bad word said about George. He commanded respect without demanding it.
George was also a mentor to many. He took the time to guide young counsel, to share his knowledge and to give encouragement. Many of those young lawyers remained deeply grateful to him and, even after they had moved on, continued to keep in close contact with him during his absence from Chambers. They include Peter Champagne, Tamica Harris, Nadine Atkinson Flowers, Robert Fletcher, Saverna Chambers and Courtney Foster.
And I suppose, given the kind of man George was, it should come as no surprise that his secretary, Ms. Yvonne Hunter, and his clerk, Ms. Blanch Hibbert, remained with him for what must amount to well over 100 years combined. Donald Dick our caretaker and Ms Nicola Henry have also spend decades with us. That kind of loyalty does not happen by accident.
It is impossible to speak about George without speaking about his family. His beloved wife of more than 45 years, Donna, and his sons, Christopher and Andrew, were at the centre of his life.
Donna, who sadly predeceased him, was so much more than a wife. She was his love, his caregiver, his baker of delicious delicacies and, from time to time, his chauffeur pressed into service to drive George out to St Elizabeth, the parish he loved so dearly.
For all his accomplishments, George never seemed impressed by himself. He was, in the truest sense, a lawyer’s lawyer. He was the person you could call when you needed advice, when you needed a steady hand, or when you simply needed someone you knew would be there. He was loyal to his friends, committed to his profession and always willing to serve his Party and his country.
And that brings me to what, for me, is perhaps the simplest and most fitting way to describe George.
During any crisis or time of difficulty, Mr. Seaga would look around the room and use two words:“Get George.”
George gave us many things — his legal skill, his wisdom, his loyalty, his humour, his friendship and his example. But perhaps his greatest gift was the quiet assurance that he would be there when you needed him.
And whenever I think of George, I suspect I will hear those two words in my mind: “Get George.”
Except that this time, sadly, George cannot be called.
Rest in Peace my friend!
A cherished and deeply respected family friend, George helped change the course of my life. He had a brilliant mind and a rare combination of warmth, sincerity, thoughtfulness, and keen observation. At times, it still feels like he is with us, yet his passing has left a deep void in our lives and in the lives of so many who knew and loved him. His presence and kindness will remain forever in our hearts. We extend our heartfelt condolences to Christopher and his family, and to Andrew and his family. May you find strength and comfort in the cherished memories, and the love surrounding you.
George, rest in everlasting peace, reunited with the love of your life.
Sheron
On behalf of the Elmwood Terrace Neighbourhood Watch Assoc, I salute George Soutar , who was a founding member and to which he provided distinguished and dedicated service. He also served Jamaica in various roles with honour, dignity and sound professionalism. His warmth, kindness and humility have left a lasting impression on those who have had the privelege of working with him and even just meeting him. Sincere condolences to his two sons, his many relatives and friends.
May his soul rest in peace and light perpetual shine upon him.
Never will be forgotten. You shall live in my heart forever. Loved you my friend. May your soul rest in peace.
Mr. Soutar was a very good and kind person. He was also my son, Kamal Kerr’s godfather. Whenever I had a problem or needed someone to talk to, I could always turn to him. Whenever I visited Jamaica, I would make sure to call him, and he would always let me know what he wanted me to bring him. He will truly be missed, but his memory will always remain in our hearts. Rest in peace, Mr. Soutar. You were a wonderful person, and I am grateful to have known you. I am also the daughter of the late Prince Buster.