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As Deanko Miller’s casket was closed, marking a final goodbye, tears and cries of anguish filled the Church of the Resurrection.

The grief grew louder as mourners sang “Don’t Cry for Me,” but for those who loved Deanko, the pain of letting him go was impossible to contain.

For Hulanda Williams, the loss was still difficult to comprehend. As she stood to pay tribute to the man she called her brother, she struggled to make sense of a life taken so suddenly.

Deanko was one of two construction workers who died last month after the ground gave way beneath them at a worksite in Lyford Cay. The men were buried beneath the earth and later recovered, but neither survived.

Yet to those gathered to remember him, Deanko was more than the circumstances of his death. He was a brother, a father, a protector and a man whose quiet presence made others feel they could depend on him.

Williams recalled how he became a big brother to her, someone whose character spoke louder than his words.

Deanko, she remembered, was not a man of many words. He had a calm presence, but he wore his heart on his sleeve.

He was protective, loyal and dependable.

“You could count on him,” she said, reflecting on the man whose absence has left a painful void in the lives of those who loved him.

He was also, she said, born to be a father.

Deanko did his best for his two children, embracing the responsibility of fatherhood and giving what he could to those who depended on him.

For Williams, his death was a painful reminder of how quickly life can change, how someone who seems certain to be there tomorrow can be gone before another day begins.

“Love harder and forgive sooner,” she urged the congregation.

Life, she reflected, can feel as though it is promised to us tomorrow, only for everything to change today.

Through her tears, Williams made one thing clear that Deanko would not be forgotten.

“You will not be forgotten,” she wept.

At the Catholic cemetery, mourners approached Deanko’s coffin with red roses, each flower a final expression of love for a man they were not ready to release.

His sister broke down as she placed her farewell into the moment.

“Oh, I love you so much… your sister loves you,” she cried.

Then the rain fell torrentially as the final moments drew closer.

One woman clung to the coffin, grieving a bond that went beyond ordinary words.

“You were like my son… I could depend on you for anything,” she wailed.

As the casket was lowered into the earth, she waved and called out one last time.

“Goodbye D… goodbye my son.”

Video credit: Through the Eyes of Ezra

The last time Stephen Duncombe’s mother held her son, he was lying in a coffin.

At Bahamas Faith Ministries, she leaned over him and hugged him for what would be the final time, her grief breaking through as she wailed and mourned the son she had to say goodbye to.

She and Stephen’s sister were eventually helped back to their seats, tears streaming down their faces.

Holding her daughter’s hand, Stephen’s mother tried to find strength in her faith.

“I thank you, Lord,” she said.

Then, almost as if comforting herself, she added: “He gone be alright.”

For a family and police force mourning a beloved son, brother, colleague and friend, Stephen’s final farewell was a moment filled with pain, but also memories of the life he lived.

Stephen was attached to the Traffic Division of the Royal Bahamas Police Force and died in hospital after being struck by a vehicle while on duty last month.

For Prophetess Anna Marie Glinton-Rolle, Stephen is forever the officer she tried to comfort in his final moments at the scene.

She came to his aid after he was struck, patting his face and fanning him as he lay on the ground.

“He was in good spirits,” she recalled.

Stephen had asked her to make sure his firearm was safe and make sure no one was taking photographs or videos of him.

He asked her to stay beside him.

When other officers suggested she go across the street to get a towel and water, Stephen had asked her to remain with him. Others went to retrieve what was needed.

Then the ambulance arrived.

Before Stephen was taken to hospital, Prophetess Anna Marie prayed with him.

“Amen, amen, amen,” he responded.

She never imagined that would be the last time she would see him.

“He did not show any signs of death. I don’t know what happened,” she said through the grief.

She said the area along Prince Charles Drive is prone to accidents and that she often comes to the aid of people involved in crashes.

But this time, the person she tried to help was someone whose life would soon be mourned by an entire police force.

Among those mourning was Danny Wright, a fellow officer from the RBPF’s 2017 class.

Wright described Stephen as a brother and a supervisor.

“He was a well-rounded officer, the best supervisor,” Smith said.

Their relationship extended beyond the police force. They played backgammon together.

Smith never imagined that the day Stephen was struck would be their last.

His message to those gathered was simple: “Live life full of joy, full of happiness.”

Tony Swabby, a childhood and school friend, remembered another side of Stephen — the jokester, the enthusiastic personality who loved to put on a show.

He took pride in his work and carried an infectious smile and attitude.

“We loved him and he loved us back,” his friend said.

Police Commissioner Shanta Knowles remembered the officer who had become a familiar face on the streets of the Bahamas.

She said Stephen had grown into a “skilled policeman” and a “familiar and popular sight” in the community.

Stephen, she said, had a way of turning simple moments into “something beautiful.”

During the country’s Independence celebrations, Knowles recalled inviting him to a reception at Police Headquarters after he had escorted her.

Stephen apparently made sure his colleagues knew about it.

He proudly told them that he was the Commissioner’s special guest — a moment that drew laughter from those gathered at his funeral.

There was one more recognition Stephen never got the chance to hear. Commissioner Knowles said Stephen had been promoted to the rank of Sergeant in July. But the promotion was only officially announced in October, after his death.

Stephen never knew that he had been promoted.

He had earned the rank, but never got the opportunity to wear it, hear his name called as Sergeant or celebrate the achievement with the people who knew how hard he had worked.

“We loved him; we respected him; we depended on him,” Commissioner Knowles said.

For those who knew Devontae Fleurimar, the 17-year-old was the boy with the unforgettable laugh; the student who could make his former principal joke about girls fighting over him; and the basketball player who had people imagining just how far his talent could take him.

Royalty Preparatory School, where Devontae was a 12th-grade student, remembered him simply: “We remember the laughter, the jokes and all the special moments we shared. He will be deeply missed and forever remembered.”

For his mother, Zoe Chyna, the pain is made even harder by how close her son was to reaching a milestone they had dreamed about together.

She imagined herself watching him walk across the stage, finally able to celebrate the young man he had become.

She remembered joking with him about how tall he was and looking forward to telling herself that she had done it, that she had gotten her son to that moment.

Now, instead of preparing to celebrate his graduation, she is preparing to bury him.

“God you could’ve done anything else and I would’ve been okay, my baby birthday in couple days yo,” she wrote after learning of his death.

“That boy was my heart, so this isn’t easy at all.”

Devontae died Sunday after reportedly encountering difficulties while swimming with three other teens in waters near South Sea Estates off Bacardi Road.

Police said they received information around 4:30 p.m. that a male had gone missing while swimming in a canal behind the community.

Matheo Smith remembers him from his own days as a principal, when Devontae was still in junior school.

Because of his distinctive surname, Smith said he rarely called him Devontae. He called him “Fleurimar.”

And he remembers a young man who was respectful, funny and full of personality.

Smith recalled teasing him about the attention he received from girls at school.

“Fleurimar, why you come to my school causing problems and having all these girls fighting over you?”

Devontae’s response would always come with that laugh: “Dr. Smith, it ain’t me man, it’s them.”

Those are the moments Smith says remain with him now.

Smith also remembers Devontae’s love for basketball. He believed the young player had something special.

“This is our next NBA star,” he would tell him.

But beyond the talent, Smith admired Devontae’s determination. He described a young man who could fall down and get back up — someone who kept pushing regardless of what came his way.

That is how he wants him remembered: Young, respectful, talented, driven and full of potential.

Those who knew Zoe Chyna say it was impossible to miss how much Devontae meant to her.

Friend Tatyana Petit remembered asking about her son and watching Zoe’s entire face light up as she spoke about him.

“She told me he was about to graduate,” Petit recalled.

She could hear the pride in the way Devontae’s mother spoke about her son.

Friend Shyquelle Chiann also remembered that bond, describing Zoe’s children as her “whole world.”

“When one mother cries, we all cry,” she wrote, offering prayers and comfort to the family.

Another friend, Shekeva Farquharson, remembered Devontae as “the sweetest young man ever from a child.”

Songs filled the church and tributes followed through the tears.

Inside Change Ministries International Church on Saturday, family, friends and members of the University of The Bahamas community gathered to remember Dahphaney Maxine, a young woman whose presence had become deeply woven into the lives of those around her.

Dahphaney, an education major from Abaco, was found unresponsive in her university dormitory in August. But on Saturday, those who loved her chose to remember the life she lived.

Her brother, Josiah Valcin, spoke of a sister who had a way of making family moments special.

“My sister was one of the best,” he said.

Whatever he needed, he said, Dahphaney would find a way to help.

“When she came home, I was happy to see her,” he remembered.

Even when she told him she was broke, somehow, she would still find a way.

“I don’t know how.”

Dahphaney was a member of the University of The Bahamas Mingoes volleyball team, where Coach Raymond Wilson said she made an impression from the very beginning.

“She walked into our first practice as if she was always there,” he said.

She did not wait for someone to give her a place on the team.

“She made her presence felt,” Wilson said.

He remembered a young woman who arrived with determination and hope.

“When Dahphaney came on board, she came onboard with fire. She came onboard with a big hope.”

For Wilson, Dahphaney’s life reflected the light she carried.

“Dahphaney let her light shine. She did not hide it under a bushel.”

For Nickara Pratt, director of Housing and Resident Life at UB, her memories of Dahphaney began on move-in day in October 2023.

She described her as bright-eyed and full of energy.

“From the first day, we knew something was special about her,” Pratt said.

They saw leadership in her.

Dahphaney had come to Nassau from Abaco to pursue her education, but the university residence became home.

“It was where she laughed, where she danced, where she prayed.”

And where she encouraged other students who felt overwhelmed or intimidated by university life to keep going.

“She was a go-getter,” Pratt said.

If Dahphaney wanted something, she pursued it.

“She was not lazy. She worked.”

She seemed to always have a job while balancing her studies, responsibilities and life as a student.

Pratt described her as “present, engaged and caring.”

They mourned the loss of someone who was still becoming.

“She was growing into the woman she was meant to be,” Pratt said.

“She came as a student and left as family.”

The words spoken about a 42-year-old man killed are strikingly similar—“nice, quiet, respectful, humble, peaceful and trustworthy.”

Friends, schoolmates and people who grew up around Renaldo Curry are remembering the same kind of person — someone who did not look for trouble, treated people with respect and was known for simply being good to those around him.

Tameka Louis Jean remembered Curry as a schoolmate she had known from primary school through high school.

“My schoolmate was ever a nice person from I knew him from Primary School straight to High School,” she wrote in a social media post.

Racquel Nairn described him as a “nice quiet person” who did not get into trouble and was “very respectful.”

And for his sister, the loss is made even more painful by the life she says he was building.

“He was the nicest person in the world. He loved his two boys.”

Curry was one of two people shot Wednesday on John Road, off Mackey Street, according to reports. He was among a group of men when two gunmen on a scooter reportedly opened fire. Curry died at the scene, while the other victim was taken to hospital.

But for those mourning him, the circumstances of his death are not how they want his life remembered.

Latanya Minns remembered Curry from growing up in John Street, where he often spent time with her older brother.

“He always wore a smile and was always decent and respectful towards me,” she said, remembering him as “one of the sweetest, kindest, most humble young men ever.”

For her, Curry was someone who stepped into the role of a big brother when hers was not around; someone she remembers as protective and dependable.

“I am so sad this happened to him.”

Others echoed that sense of disbelief.

Daron Taylor called Curry “one of the most coolest dudes ever” and “very humble.”

Another friend simply wrote, “Humble person.”

Sonia Minns struggled to make sense of the loss. “Boy Curry, I still can’t believe this. You didn’t deserve this.”

Taricka Mackey mourned the death of a schoolmate and friend, remembering him as someone who was never troublesome.

And Jack Kidd described him as someone who “don’t bother,” a great and trustworthy person.

Perhaps one of the most painful reflections came from Don Rolle, who said he had known Curry all his life.

“Bro was so humble and peaceful.”

Rolle also spoke about the environment in which Curry grew up — the reality of being surrounded by people and circumstances that can bring danger close, even when it is not something a person seeks for themselves.

His death has left them asking for justice.

Central State University student Joshua Knowles was already building the life he had dreamed about as a student, a marching band member, a fraternity brother, son, brother and a friend.

To the people who knew him best, he was a young man whose energy, determination and love for people around him left an impression.

Since his death, those who loved him are trying to make sense of a future without him.

Joshua, a Bahamian student at Central State in Ohio, died after suffering a medical emergency while on campus.

He was expected to graduate in Spring 2027.

Joshua graduated from Government High School and received the Public School Scholars Programme award in 2022, helping him continue his education at Central State University.

He pursued music and management information, and became part of the university’s Invincible Marching Marauders, where his talent and commitment made him part of a community that considered itself a family.

He was also a member of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc.

Central State remembered Joshua as a valuable member of its marching band family, bringing “energy, dedication and a genuine love.”

“Our band is a family and we will lean on each other and honor his memory as we navigate this loss together,” said Eric Walker, IMM Consultant.

The Ministry of Education described Joshua as a young scholar who was continuing his educational journey.

Friend, Amiel Johnson, said in a post that their friendship began in the fourth grade.

They grew up together, marched together and collected years of memories, the kind of friendship where, Johnson said, one phone call was enough to bring them together no matter how busy life became.

“It was deeper than just friendship, you were my brother,” Johnson wrote.

He remembered Joshua’s drive, talent, dedication to his craft and love for his family.

“Heaven gained one of the best musicians and swimmers ever,” Johnson wrote.

For Joshua’s brother Xavier, president of the Torchbearers Youth Association, the loss comes after an already devastating year.

He said that within five months, he lost both of his grandmothers and now his brother.

“I can’t get pass this,” he wrote.

But amid the grief, Xavier said, “I’m thankful for the 22 years God placed you in my life,” he wrote. “I was proud of your journey.

“I will shout your name from every mountain top.”

Born Again Deliverance Ministries also mourned Joshua, with Pastor Kelson Miller describing him as a talented young man with a bright future who was already working toward building a better life through education.

Joshua was 22.

The youth choir sang without him.

Inside Bible Truth Ministries on Saturday, their voices rose with the words, “I pray we all be ready.”

But there was one voice missing. Anton Bowe should have been there singing with them.

The 16-year-old was remembered at a spirited funeral surrounded by classmates, teachers, family and church members—three weeks after his life was suddenly cut short by a lightning strike while at R.M. Bailey High School.

For those who knew Anton, the silence left behind was difficult to describe.

Kevin Edgecombe, vice principal of C.H. Reeves Junior High, said Anton had touched countless lives.

“He was family. We watched him grow from a young boy.”

His personality, Edgecombe remembered, could fill an entire room.

“His laughter was unforgettable and his energy impossible to ignore.”

Anton was also known for respecting his elders, showing kindness and lending a helping hand whenever someone needed it.

Now, Edgecombe said, his laughter is missing from the hallways where so many had watched him grow.

Antone’s connection to C.H. Reeves ran deep. His aunts taught at the school, he was a former student, making the young student even more familiar to the wider school family.

To his classmates, however, Antone was more than someone they went to school with.

Mya Reckley, a fellow student in 11R at RM Bailey, described him as a big brother to the class.

“There was never a dull moment with him around,” she remembered.

“Anton was someone all of us depended on and counted on.”

She described him as optimistic and thoughtful—a person who had a way of making others feel less alone.

When she learned that he had died, the grief hit her physically. She lost her appetite.

Anton had become part of the emotional fabric of the people around him.

“He made people feel less alone when he felt alone himself,” Reckley said.

“He lived a life that was full and tender at the same time.”

At church, Anton was equally present.

Pastor Ellison Greenslade remembered him as a faithful member of the congregation who attended Sunday School and was regularly present for both the 8 a.m. and 11 a.m. services.

For Greenslade, Anton’s presence was a gift.

“An angel was amongst us,” he said.

There were tears for the teenager who should have had so much more time.

The saxophone rendition of Gone Too Soon filled Bahamas Faith Ministries as family and friends gathered to say goodbye to Stefan “Legend” Davis.

But beyond the grief was a celebration of a man remembered for his art, laughter, love of   culture—and the people he made feel like family.

Stefan, a prominent Bahamian artist and entrepreneur, died nearly three weeks ago in a Florida  car crash. According to Miami-Dade police, a man attempting to evade police ran a stop sign and crashed into Stefan’s vehicle.

His daughter, Tajaie Davis, described her father as her best friend and quite literally her twin.

“He was a lover of people, a lover of the arts, a lover of Junkanoo, a lover of culture but most importantly, a lover of family,” she said.

“He had a special way of making even a stranger feel like they were blood.”

Tajaie spoke of the safe space her father created for her to be “bold, ambitious and strong and unstoppable.”

Her greatest heartbreak is knowing he will not be there to see her marry or meet the children she hoped to have.

Still, she believes her father is in heaven, “painting the city gold.”

For close friend Obie Knowles, Stefan was the brother he never had.

They once formed a rap group called Black Juice and performed a few shows before Stefan eventually stepped away to focus on his art and pursue airbrushing seriously.

Stefan opened his first airbrushing booth at the Mall at Marathon and became known for helping others with his craft.

“We had our ups and downs like any brother,” Knowles recalled. “We would go weeks without talking but got back together like yesterday.”

“I could do anything for Stefan.”

Close friend Kyrie Albury remembered Stefan’s protective nature during their final trip together.

On September 2, while travelling toward Miami, another vehicle swerved toward them. Stefan looked at Kyrie and said:

“I gat you. You’re covered.”

Those words now carry a weight Kyrie will never forget.

Pastor Brooks Russell said Stefan and his fiancée initially sought marriage counselling, but the conversations eventually became about strengthening their relationship with Jesus.

Stefan told him he wanted his family, friends and everyone he knew to “know Jesus as Lord and Saviour.”

Culture Minister and friend Leslia Brice remembered Stefan as her big brother from Taylor Street, a man who protected her as they grew up and made sure she reached home safely.

“He created something out of nothing,” she said.

“That was his superpower.”

“A talent arrived way before his time,” she remembered.

“I always think about Miss Pinder. She was so beautiful. She was such a sweet teacher.”

For those who knew Jillian Pinder, 56, they remember her laugh, jokes and kindness. The teacher who poured into her students, the aunt who called for advice, the mother whose children were at the centre of her life.

And, perhaps most strikingly, family remember her faith.

Pinder, a teacher at TG Glover Primary School, died on July 13, weeks after she was attacked and stabbed in the neck on June 4.

Her husband, George Pinder, and another man have since been charged in connection with her death. They face murder and conspiracy charges, with George Pinder also facing a charge of abetment to murder. The allegations are waiting to be proven in court.

But as the legal process begins, Jillian’s family is determined that the woman she was should not disappear behind the case.

Her niece, Janine Capron, remembered a woman whose relationship with her family was filled with laughter.

“Our calls were always some joke or story. She loved to laugh!” Capron wrote.

Jillian was often the first person to send birthday and anniversary messages. She showed up for family milestones and, when difficult conversations were necessary, she remained family.

“She was always the first message for birthdays or anniversaries. She showed up for every family event and milestone,” Capron wrote.

Then came the phone call that changed everything.

Capron recalled rushing to Nassau after learning Jillian had been attacked. When she entered her aunt’s ICU room, she broke down in tears.

But Jillian comforted her. “I am still here,” she told her.

Capron said Jillian recounted what had happened and repeatedly expressed that she simply wanted her life.

“He can have it all, I just want my life,” Capron recalled her saying.

And there was something Jillian reportedly told her attackers. “I forgive you.”

Her niece said those words have stayed with her.

“I haven’t gotten to that place yet,” she wrote.

For a family still struggling to understand the loss, forgiveness is not simple, neither is grief.

Jillian’s family has created the Justice for Jill Facebook page as they seek answers and support for her children.

“As we continue to remember and fight for Jill, we ask that you please keep her beautiful children lifted in prayer,” the family said.

Her niece Anna Capron wrote that the family trusted God even when they could not understand the delays.

“We may not be able to bring her back, but we can make sure she is never forgotten,” she wrote.

That may be the family’s greatest act of remembrance.

Corporal Steven Duncombe, for many of his friends, was the kind of person you could call when you needed help.

When his colleague John Rolle reached out recently to ask Duncombe to escort his family to his nephew’s funeral on Saturday, September 5, 2026, he did not hesitate.

“I gat you bro,” Duncombe told him.

Rolle said in a social media post that he knew he could count on Duncombe. What he could never have imagined was that, less than two weeks later, he would be preparing to mourn the man who had promised to stand by his side.

“I can’t believe it,” Rolle said, remembering Duncombe as a brother and someone who was always willing to lend a helping hand.

Steven Duncombe, a 37-year-old serving member of the Royal Bahamas Police Force, died following a traffic accident in the area of Prince Charles Drive and Garden Road.

Duncombe’s police motorcycle collided with and a white Suzuki motor vehicle. Duncombe was found suffering from injuries, while the Suzuki’s female passenger also reported sustaining head injuries.

Despite medical efforts, Duncombe succumbed to his injuries shortly after 3 a.m. on Monday.

But beyond the circumstances of his death, those who knew him are remembering the life he lived and the impression he left.

To many, Duncombe was a serious and dedicated officer who took pride in his work as a police cyclist. To others, he was “Stevie,” “Luca” or simply a friend who could turn an ordinary moment into a memory.

Vana described him as “the people’s favourite rider” and “our favourite Facebook police officer.”

The Royal Bahamas Police Staff Association remembered his unwavering dedication to service, professionalism and commitment as a police cyclist, qualities it said reflected the very best of the Force.

Others spoke of his time serving in Harbour Island, describing him as one of the finest officers to work there.

Michael Clarke remembered a man who could make people laugh until they cried, even while dealing with his own challenges.

Clarke said their friendship was filled with teasing, arguments and jokes. They were, as he put it, “like Tom and Jerry”—but always with love underneath.

“Most times, I was funny but Stevie was funnier!” Clarke recalled.

He also remembered Duncombe as someone who supported his efforts without question and regularly offered encouragement.

“Bey Mike, don’t worry about that. Keep doing you,” Duncombe would tell him. That encouragement, Clarke said, was typical of the man he knew.

Clarke said their last conversation took place just days before the accident.

“The parties, outings, real-life conversations, check-ins… will be cherished forever,” Clarke said, describing Duncombe as “a true gentle giant and a kind soul.”

For Duncombe’s cousin, the loss remains almost impossible to process. After hearing the news, the cousin said they posted a message on his Facebook wall, only to delete it moments later because no one else had posted yet.

There was still a small hope that the information was wrong—that a call would come saying Duncombe had received a second chance.

“You broke a lot of hearts,” the cousin wrote, struggling to understand how Duncombe’s name could now appear alongside the words “rest in peace.”

Raven Hepburn shared a similar disbelief, remembering how loved ones had hoped Duncombe’s brief responses before his death were signs that he was fighting his way back.

“He fought,” she wrote, describing him as a fighter whose time had ended far too soon.

Kjay Worrell recalled the “Atlantis runner days” and said Duncombe had always been solid.

Member of Parliament for Seabreeze Leslia Brice described Duncombe as a stellar gentleman, a first-class officer and a man who performed his duties with excellence, always with a smile.

Duncombe was 2007 graduate of Nassau Christian Academy.