Michael Hugh Herring

Heartbroken doesn’t begin to convey our sense of injury as we share the sudden loss of Michael Herring. A consummate and generous host, and a true and loyal friend, Mike would make you laugh with the tilt of an eyebrow and an affectionate and wicked wit. Mike loved his family fiercely. The absence leaves Dagmar “Dasha” (nee Otepkova), the love of his life, bereft. Their beloved children, Lenka and Tomas, mourn in the knowledge that his love for them was boundless. In Calgary, and in sorrow, are his sisters Sandra “Sandy” Huddleston (Ross) and Margaret “Margie” Smale (Craig), and nephews and nieces Dillon, Katie and Nicki. Predeceased by parents Stella and Hubert, and his niece Meghan. Left to remember him are countless friends truly the world over, who are sharing stories with tears and laughter, and for whom he will always be present in the fondest (and sometimes funniest) of memories.

Born in Calgary, Mike left Alberta (despite an offer of a Mustang from his mom as a bribe to stay) for Toronto to pursue a passion for architecture at Ryerson (TMU). You can take the boy out of Alberta, but you can’t take the Alberta out of the boy, and it expressed itself in him in his politics, his love of all things beef, and a doctoral-student-like focus on horse-racing. Through the ponies, he realized a natural ability in math, probability and risk, and this would lead to notable success in a career in finance. Mike began (and ended) his career on Bay Street with BMO. Starting in the “cage,” where trades are settled in the ebbs and flows of transactions, he built the foundations of a trader’s acumen and insight. His knowledge and skills were soon rewarded and he moved quickly up the corporate structure to join the ranks of BMO’s elite. Because Mike was a "regular guy” (no ego, no agenda), his valuable guidance and leadership were there for anyone who sought them.

Mike loved the blues, and had encyclopedic knowledge (and a vast vinyl collection) of his guitar heroes. He got to see his favourite, Stevie Ray Vaughan, five times. But his musical tastes took him to all genres, and sometimes you’d find him tuning into Lounge (we called it “elevator”), House, Soul and, of course Tiki. The annual Tiki party in Toronto was legendary, with Mike warning and welcoming neighbours who, let’s be honest, would be kept up anyway! Mike’s sense of humour was shaped by his love of movies, particularly comedy classics like Airplane, Tropic Thunder, and Naked Gun. He loved their preposterous and silly word play, and he’d drop a line on you in exactly the right (and often the wrong) moment to crack you up.

At 49, Mike left one of the top jobs at BMO Nesbitt Burns to make chicken sandwiches (with such love) in the Czech Republic. His life became about family (school drop offs and swim meets), their dog Lucky, and making new friends in whatever languages he could find for common ground. Czech language lessons were part of adjusting to this new role in a new land, and he never regretted leaving the corporate steeplechase behind (though he kept a finger and sometimes both hands in the machinations of the financial markets). Mike and Dasha and the kids made the most of what Europe had to offer, travelling frequently for cycling, skiing and meeting up with friends new and old on their travels. A skilled photographer, Mike’s albums and terabytes of images bring these memories to vivid life.

Mike brought backgammon to his expanding circle in the Czech Republic, teaching them a game he loved for its leverage of probability and strategy. With multiple sets in hand (but never the leatherbound one he received from his mother - that was off limits), he’d show up ready to teach all comers. His love for it was infectious and, during COVID, it served as a way to bring people together. Mike also had an innate ability to engage with young people, bringing them in and making them feel they mattered. Many thought of him as “uncle,” and knew him as someone they could talk to about the things they cared about, whether music, books, sports, culture and more.

A dog lover, Mike was particularly devoted to Utulek Zlin, a local animal shelter where he volunteered as a dog walker after Lucky died. He’d raise money for the shelter and, twice a year, bring over a carload of food, treats and toys (and the kids) and they’d stay and play with the dogs. Guests to his 60th birthday party were instructed to bring gifts for the animals at the shelter rather than presents for him, and the accumulated pile was the stuff of doggy dreams.

Mike and Dasha’s house was a revolving door of friends, relatives and visitors (not to mention contractors), with Mike happy to play local to show off his new home town of Zlin. Back at the house, Mike manned one or another of the bbqs, with a tall pour of bourbon in hand. These were not casual hobbies but interests in which he sought mastery. As a young man, restaurant kitchen work set him off on a lifetime pursuit of the perfect steak, and his chicken wings (smoked and grilled) were legendary. He led friends on bbq tours of the US, cycled through wine country in many regions, and took a lucky few on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail to celebrate their 60th birthdays. It all comes back to his love of hosting.

His own 60th birthday party in Zlin revealed the depth of the ties he and the family had formed in his new home. Yes, old friends and family joined him to celebrate, but they were well outnumbered by a cluster of new friends who now counted Mike among their circle.

And all of these friends, accumulated over a lifetime unfairly and rudely cut short, will mourn his loss and remember his life. None will feel the presence of his absence more than Dasha, Lenka and Tomas, his world contracted into its essence. He goes with our deepest love.

In keeping with his wishes, cremation has taken place and a celebration of life is being planned for Fall in Toronto.