When I formed the Tradewinds band in Toronto in the late 1960s, we played frequently at a small bar downtown on Yonge Street (the main drag) called the Bermuda Tavern.  It was the only place in the city where you could go to hear a Caribbean band 6 nights a week (the other two musicians were Kelvin Ceballo on drums and Glen Sorzano on guitar, both Trinis) and our clientele was mostly West Indians or friends of West Indians.  One of the regulars in the club was a young, good-looking Guyanese named Ted deAbreu (I called him “Brew”) who eventually introduced himself, told me he was a singer, and that he would like to do a couple songs with us. You never know with these things, so I told him to come to a rehearsal and we would see.

In the rehearsal, two things were apparent:  the guy had a lovely voice as well as a great personality – he looked and moved like a young Harry Belafonte, smiling, using his hands, very expressive.  But the other thing was that Brew sang, as the saying goes, to his…..