Lenox was a timid child. The Lenox we know today is so far removed from that descriptor that you might not believe it, but back then, that’s how he was; “Mooksie”. He was born September 27th, 1957, and if the family knew the powerful personality that was coming, we might have sent him back. He was a voracious reader. Nobody knew who taught him or how he learned, but our best guess is that he reasoned it out himself, which became a running theme in his life. Everywhere he went, he always had a book in hand. Reading was his favourite pastime, his passion. He read everything that was printed, no matter what it was. At Christmas, when our parents asked what we wanted, there were the usual requests for guns, footballs and such. Lenox, however, always wanted a book. And when he finished reading it-usually a few hours after receiving it on Christmas morning—he would then track the rest of us down and summarily take our toys, only returning them once they were broken or destroyed. He tested them to the limit, much to our dismay. This mischievous part of his personality was not reserved for Christmas Day.

Growing up, he always wanted to take part. in games, but was not good at losing them, which happened often. And when he lost, his second favourite pastime was to pick a fight. Not that he could fight, and somebody always had to come and bail him out; usually me. So much so that my mother later made me promise to always look out for Len. I tried, but Len did not care much about looking out for himself. In every debate or dispute, he never backed down. He would rattle of statistics and facts that no one knew (1) how he knew them or (2) if they were true, but he said it with such confidence that no one dared challenge him. He always won and learned early that information was his best weapon, a lesson that served him until his dying day.

Another lesson that served him well was how to avoid physical labour. Our grandmother, a trader in the market, often required manual assistance from the brothers to move her wares and run errands. Each brother served, save one. When asked why he didn’t help, he was adamant that “that was too much and down up and there was nothing stimulating about the task,” earning him the nickname Lay-nox, The Lazy One. My grandmother could often be heard saying, “Don’t send Lay-nox, he too damn lazy,” much to his enjoyment. He breezed through primary school, skipping many classes and always topping his class.

In 1968, he earned a scholarship through the Common Entrance Examination and was sent to Presentation College, Chaguanas. There, he consistently placed in the top three students of every class, despite participating in almost every sport. Lenox loved sports deeply, and while he played many, cricket was his forte. He was a formidable cricketer, respected for both skill and competitiveness, and later in life he proudly sponsored sports teams, believing strongly in discipline, teamwork, and giving young people opportunities.

Ever the businessman, Lenox began earning income while still in school by helping classmates with their homework. After leaving school, he worked at several organisations before joining Emile Elias’ Construction, now N.H. International. He was one of the few locals placed in Project Management and became a Junior Construction Manager, understudying the British Construction Manager.

Lenox was an active member of the Chaguanas Roman Catholic Church in his youth and was instrumental in reviving the Chaguanas Chapter of the Catholic Youth Organisation, serving as President in the late 1970s. Through church and CYO, he met his future wife Stephanie, who remained his friend to the end.

In 1981, his daughter Lian was born, the absolute and unconditional love of his life. He loved her fiercely, and over time their relationship became a deep friendship. People said they were each other’s eyeball. Lian worked in Lenox’s business for many years, spending almost every day together. Fatherhood gave him immense joy, and when Lian’s daughter Frida was born, she became his second eyeball. He would drop anything to babysit and found every opportunity to spoil her.

In 1981, Lenox made his first foray into business ownership. Over time, this evolved into Corporate Dynamics Limited. He was a hard taskmaster but a generous boss, innovative, stubborn, kind, and always thinking. He rescued many government housing projects, driven by a strong commitment to national development.

Lenox’s other great passion was people. He always reminded us that he went into business to help others, and was generous, sometimes to a fault. His greatest source of joy, however, was in his inner circle. His mother, Vero, was his first true love. He adored her. He also cherished his brothers, and felt unsettled if he didn’t see them weekly. Schoolmate – Dave Alleyne and his wife Lorna were also family to him, and touching base with them on a regular basis was an imperative he rarely missed.

Lenox loved to travel, and when he met Mitzi, his girlfriend in the late 2010s, she encouraged him to take a relaxing sojourn once a year for his birthday, sometimes to places he might not otherwise have gone. They spent happy years together until he passed. Mitzi was his quiet support, his time away from the noise of his day, and his nurse. With her, there were date-nights, concerts, music in all genres, travel or just a Netflix or Prime movie at home. She understood him and he, her.

They shared a rare and efortless “togetherness” born of that understanding. He was happy with her, and she with him. Lenox lived his life at full tilt, thinking, debating, building, loving, and giving, all at once. He left his mark not only in the companies he built or the projects he rescued, but in the people he lifted, challenged, and stood beside. He was larger than life, uncompromising in his convictions, generous in spirit, and fiercely loyal to those he loved. Lenox did not pass quietly through this world; he occupied fully. And in doing so, he leaves behind a legacy of intellect, integrity, family, and service that will continue to echo long after his voice has fallen silent.