NHL alumni visit Ranger legend Harry Howell
Once upon a time they might’ve scoffed at doing too much hugging. Back when they’d just turned 17 and were becoming teammates and friends, it probably wasn’t really the thing to do. But there’s no hesitation nearly seven decades later when the one walks into the other’s long-term care residence.
Former NHLer Pete Conacher is first. He embraces his one-time New York Rangers teammate Harry Howell and gets a huge smile and a few words of greeting in return. Then comes longtime Ranger Dean Prentice. Same hug. Same joyful response.
“It’s just the bond that we have,” Prentice says.
Howell may be dealing with Alzheimer’s these days. Much of his memory has been erased. But it’s equally clear that in some way, this city’s greatest-ever hockey player hasn’t forgotten these men with whom he spent so much of his life.
They sure haven’t forgotten him.
Every few weeks, a few alumni from the dawn of the black-andwhite-TV era drop in to the Ancaster facility to spend some time chatting, reminiscing and generally just touching base with their old buddy.
On Tuesday it was these two. Toronto Maple Leafs legend Johnny Bower has been up to visit. He was supposed to be there again on Tuesday but his wife was feeling under the weather. Leaf great Dick Duff was supposed to drop in as well but he was feeling poorly.
It happens. They’re all into their 80s or even 90s now.
For years, a handful of alumni have met once a month at a Toronto restaurant for lunch. Maybe 15 of them. Sometimes more. As they get chatting and telling stories, names come up. Someone’s always heard something about someone they knew who may be having a tough time. Soon they’re making plans to go visit.
Harry used to go to these lunches. That stopped a while back when he was diagnosed. Now the guys come to him.
“It’s the least we can do after all that time,” Conacher says.
Howell’s daughter, Cheryl Townson, says she just gets a phone call telling her they’re coming and when to expect them. No organization necessary on her part. All she has to do is show up and feel good about what she sees.
It’s easy to do. When the guys are around, the 84-year-old is engaged and smiling. He throws a few words into the conversation. She’s sure he knows who they are.
“I try to say, ‘Hi, Harry, it’s Pete Conacher,’” the visitor says. “Just in case.”
Honestly, the gathering is rather beautiful. In their time, these were tough, hard men who played through pain while administering it as well. Today, they are gentle, compassionate, caring seniors who haven’t forgotten a brother.
It would be a stretch to compare it to the bond held by those who fought alongside each other on the battlefield, but there’s a similarity for sure.
Prentice was a junior teammate who got to know Harry on the Guelph Biltmores in 1951, and then spent the first 11 seasons of his NHL career with Harry on the Rangers. He now lives in Kitchener.
Conacher — son of Maple Leaf legend, Charlie, and nephew of Canadian sports legend, Lionel — met Howell back in 1949 when he played for the Galt Black Hawks in junior hockey. That meant going against Harry’s powerhouse Biltmores many nights. The two then ended up playing on the Rangers for a couple seasons together in the NHL. He’s in Etobicoke these days.
It’s a pretty decent drive for both men. Why make the effort to come out? “If it helps Harry to see an ex-teammate and have a chat, that’s what we’re after,” Conacher says.
So they sit and talk, eat chocolates, sip coffee, sign a few autographs and have some laughs. Townson says when Bower was there a few weeks ago, her dad was howling with laughter and having a wonderful time. It was perfect, even if Howell — wearing a New York Rangers sweatshirt — can’t express those sentiments all that clearly anymore.
Amid the fun social moments however, it’s admittedly tough at times for the other guys. “It is,” Prentice says. “I get emotional.” As he says so, his eyes moisten and his voice tails off.
His close friend Andy Bathgate died just over a year ago. His longtime pal, Lou Fontinato, went last July. Howell has Alzheimer’s. Time is ticking for everyone. “We know we’re getting there,” he says. That’s someday down the road, though. Today, there are laughs to share, stories to tell and broad smiles to flash.