Retired judge remembered as ‘class act’
It was only a few weeks ago that attorney Sam Shamansky spotted Judge Richard S. Sheward zipping up High Street in one of his beloved hot rods — a souped-up Ford Raptor pickup truck. It was red with a custom tag,
No way anyone could miss it.
And so it was with an equal mix of shock and sadness that Shamansky read the text message that Franklin County Prosecutor Ron O’Brien sent Saturday morning telling him that Sheward, a former longtime Franklin County Common Pleas judge, died Friday at the age of 73. Sheward had been hospitalized at Mount Carmel St. Ann’s since collapsing with a diabetic seizure on June 3, his family said, but with time and hard work, everyone expected he would make a full recovery.
This news, then, came so unexpectedly, Shamansky said.
“Dick Sheward was a super approachable guy, a super friendly guy and a super interesting personality,” said Shamansky, who had known the judge for decades. “You have all kinds of judges who have a bark on the bench, and no bite off it. That was him: An all-around class act.”
After Ohio law prevented Sheward from seeking a fifth term because of his age, he retired in 2015 with the longest continuous tenure (24 years) of the 17 judges on the Franklin County Common Pleas bench at that time. In his early career, he had been an assistant prosecutor, a private-practice lawyer and a Municipal Court judge.
Since retiring, he had still been taking cases by assignment.
Known for brooking no nonsense in his courtroom, Sheward was the kind of judge lawyers on both sides respected, even if they didn’t always agree with him, O’Brien said. The two finished law school at the same time — O’Brien at Ohio State University and Sheward at Capital University — and started as assistant prosecutors in the Franklin County prosecutor’s office on the same day in 1974.
“Dick was a wonderful lawyer,” O’Brien said. “He was fair and did his best to let both sides have their say. What more can you ask for from a judge?”
He considered Sheward not just a colleague but a friend, but that didn’t mean Sheward ever cut him any slack. The judge was a stickler for keeping everything on time — a feat rarely pulled off when turning the wheels of justice.
“I’d walk in his courtroom and he’d look at his watch and growl, ‘We start court at 9 a.m. here and it’s 9:05,’” O’Brien said with a laugh. “He wasn’t kidding.”
Born and raised in Jackson in southern Ohio, Sheward attended the University of Miami in Florida on a football scholarship. After four years there, he returned to Ohio and finished his bachelor’s degree at Ohio University. Drafted by the Army almost immediately after that, he did a tour of Vietnam in 1969 and earned the rank of captain.
It was all of those experiences that made him who he was, Shamansky said. “He was as devoted to doing the right thing as I have ever seen,” he said.
When out of his judge’s robes, Sheward wore the cloak of Dad and Grandpa. Daughter Carrin Sheward Wester said Saturday, through tears, that her dad loved adventure and tinkering in his garage on anything that would take him somewhere fast. Besides his pickup, he owned a 1973 Corvette, a Ford Mustang and, until the past few years, a Harley-Davidson. He rode his motorcycle with unfiltered joy. He even rode it all the way to Alaska once.
Her dad was a natural-born leader, Wester said, and loved the law. He was a hard worker who demanded things be done a certain way. But it was for his family that his heart was most full. In addition to Wester, Sheward’s survivors include daughter Alison Sheward Doepping and two granddaughters.
“All I know is that he loved me and Alison very, very, very much,” Wester said. “We can’t believe he’s gone.”
Visitation will be 2 to
4 p.m. and 6 to 8 p.m. Wednesday at Schoedinger Midtown Chapel, 229 E. State St. A funeral will be Thursday but arrangements are incomplete.