Royal Canadian Mounted Police Sgt. Mark Howard, left, and Const. Todd Sparkes, right, salute as Don Cherry and his brother Dick step back after placing a wreath on the gravestone of their late grandfather, John T. Cherry, who was one of the original 300 members of the Northwest Mounted Police. A ceremony Wed., Nov. 16, 2011 at St. Mary’s Cemetery in Kingston, Ont. dedicated a regimental stone in his name. Photo by Michael Lea/Kingston Whig-Standard/SunMedia.

March 14, 2025

Dick Cherry remembered as ‘true gentleman and an inspiration’

By Patrick Kennedy

Kingston Whig-Standard

In the late spring of 1971, Richard Cherry bumped into his friend Richard Dodds. “Richard”?

Only their mothers used that front name, as did Richard Cherry’s famous hockey-commentator brother Don; to others they were simply “Dick.” The two old pals reminisced briefly on their time as student teachers at Queen’s University and the summer they worked together at Kingston Parks and Recreation. They also updated one another on their current standing. Cherry had just wrapped up his 10th and final season in pro hockey. He was 33 years old, married with two children, and unemployed, albeit with a teaching degree in his hip pocket. He mentioned to Dodds that he “could use a job.”

Dodds had years earlier moved over to the administration side and was by then a school superintendent with the Lennox and Addington Board of Education. So he got Cherry a job, although not one the tough, 200-pound blood-and-guts hockey player expected. “Mr. Cherry” became the new kindergarten teacher at Amherst Island Public School.

Dick Cherry died on March 6, three weeks shy of his 88th birthday. He is mourned by family, friends, past teammates, and by generations of his former students. Before you learn how Cherry comically summed up that first year teaching the wee folk, we look back on his life.

“I always called him Richard,” Dick’s 91-year-old brother Don said instinctively, compelled for the first time to use the past tense when referring to his kid brother. “He was a better hockey player than me and a lot tougher, too. Plus he had one of those judo belts, back when those things really meant something.

“This is hard,” Don added, his voice trailing off. It’s been an “annus horribilus” for the elder Cherry, who in the past 12 months has had to deal with the loss of a daughter (Cindy) and now his only sibling.

Dick Cherry, the younger son of well-known sportsman Del Cherry, was born Mar. 28, 1937, and grew up at 518 Albert St. He and his brother showed talent as hockey players early on in life. But the two took different post-playing paths to success.

Don, with his unvarnished opinions, found immense popularity as a longtime hockey commentator. Apart from his prowess on the ice, Dick found success in the classroom, aided by an innate ability to motivate and inspire young people. He received no greater reward for his career in education than the enduring respect of his students and staff, many of whom posted touching tributes online about the teacher/administrator.

While most of us associate Dick Cherry with hockey, he’s also remembered as a caring educator and an exceptional principal, in some instances by people who knew little or nothing of his hockey exploits – and Dick was certainly too modest to toot his own horn. To his students he was a fair, fun-loving, conscientious teacher and later a model administrator.

“Mr. Cherry was an amazing teacher/principal who had a huge impact on so many students,” ex-student Doug Adam posted online, adding this personal comment: “As someone who struggled to find his way in school, (I knew) Mr. Cherry always had my back. He believed in me and saw the best in me. For that, I am forever grateful.”

Added ex-teaching colleague Glenn Sorenson: “Dick was the best principal I ever worked with. He made both students and staff feel that they were the most important part of his day. He was a true gentleman and an inspiration to all who knew him.”

And some heartfelt words from former student Stacey Latour illustrated a softer side of the rugged rearguard not witnessed by opponents on skates: “I remember square-dancing down the halls with him,” Latour wrote. “He loved all the students and truly loved being around them. Mr. Cherry touched many people’s lives and is someone I’ll never forget.”

Locally, longtime hockey fans recall Cherry as the heady, hard-nosed player who powered two of the city’s most popular teams, the Frontenacs of the old Eastern Professional Hockey League (EPHL) and later the Senior A Kingston Aces.

In 1955, Cherry left Kingston to play Junior A hockey, first in Galt, then in Barrie. Two years later, at age 19, he had his first taste of National Hockey League competition in a six-game stint with the Bruins. It would 10 years before his next NHL game.

He had his finest pro season with his hometown Frontenacs. He tallied 28 times and collected 60 points for the 1962-63 EPHL champion Frontenacs. He celebrated that title by retiring at age 24 to pursue his teaching career.

Dick came out of hockey retirement in 1967 to fuel the Oklahoma City Blazers’ blitz to the Central Hockey League crown. He joined the Philadelphia Flyers the next year after the Flyers selected him in the 1968 NHL expansion draft. He played two seasons, ending his NHL career with 12 goals, and 22 points in 145 games, all but six with the Flyers. He played one final season in Oklahoma and three more years of senior hockey in Kingston and Napanee before hanging up the blades … well, sort of: He played old-timers hockey until age 83.

As a longtime scout for the local Frontenacs junior team, Dick studied players with the discerning eye of a seasoned horse breeder checking out a young thoroughbred. He could pick out subtle skills and intangibles.

Unlike his outspoken brother, Dick’s ingrained sense of humility prevented him from accepting kudos whenever someone complimented him on a draft pick who had begun to pay dividends. He routinely deflected praise onto others.

In a Facebook post, former Frontenacs scout Matt Hallett hailed Dick Cherry as “… one of the nicest men in hockey…selfless and always willing to give advice and support to countless young scouts. Humble doesn’t even begin to describe the man.”

Still others remember Cherry as an outdoors sportsman, staunch conservationist, keen bird watcher and champion duck carver.

“Dick got me involved in duck carving and I got him interested in bird watching,” said longtime friend and Kingston Aces teammate Bob Collins.

A few months ago Dick Cherry joined former Kingston Aces teammates and retired Whig-Standard sportswriters at Jimmy’s Sports Lounge. From left to right, Tom Mercer, Gary Lupton, Ron Brown, Dick Cherry and Kingston and District Hall of Famer Ron Earl. Photo by Patrick Kennedy.

The mention of ducks prompted a story from Cherry’s ex-teammate Ron Plumb, who played on Dick’s final pro team, the 1970-71 Oklahoma City Blazers, a Boston Bruins’ farm club that also featured fellow Kingstonians Hughie Harvey and Fred O’Donnell.

“Dick knew that some of us like to hunt and he asked if sometime we’d bring him a few ducks,” Plumb said. “One day we stopped by Dick’s place and gave him some ducks that we’d shot on an Oklahoma farm owned by a Blazers team booster. Dick went outside and started cleaning the ducks. It was a windy day and all these feathers were blowing across the nearby I-94 freeway… Then we found out that it wasn’t even duck season. When Dick heard that, he gave us proper hell, saying ‘You crazy buggers!’ I could’ve gone to jail!’ We told that story over and over again for the rest of that season.”

Plumb praised the Blazers’ team captain’s “settling influence on everyone,” particularly on the pea-green pros from Kingston.

“Not only was Dick our captain, he was our father figure,” Plumb pointed out. “Dick was then in his 30s, married with kids. We were like 20, 21 years old, so we looked up to him. And no one ever thought about challenging him, you know, because of the judo thing.”

That “judo thing” was Dick’s black belt, which some teams even mentioned in the official program. As young loyal fans of the Cherry-led Kingston Aces, we envisioned Cherry dropping the gloves against an opponent, then assuming a judo stance. It never happened, of course, although Plumb did recount one Central Hockey League bench-clearing brawl during which Cherry subdued a player with a sleeper hold that was straight out of a martial arts How To booklet.

“The guy went out like a light bulb,” Plumb said, laughing.

Getting back to that career-launching kindergarten job on Amherst Island, Cherry not only survived but thrived.

“Dick became one of the finest teachers and principals that the L&A board has ever had,” lauded Dodds, now 90. “When we needed a school cleaned up, we’d send in Dick, he straightened things out in no time.”

A few months into that kindergarten job, Cherry bumped into Dodds again and summed up his foray into the world of pre-Grade 1 pupils.

“I now know the difference between senior kindergarten and junior kindergarten,” he informed the superintendent. “At recess, when the senior-K kids are hanging off you, you can shoo them away. With the junior-K kids, you have to scrape them off your legs.”

Patrick Kennedy is a retired Whig-Standard reporter. He can be reached at pjckennedy35@gmail.com