Edward Owen Razzell

May 9, 1936 – February 13, 2025

Edward Owen Razzell, golfer, foodie, family man, and dedicated opponent of three-putts, died peacefully on February 13, 2025, at Trillium Hospice in Parksville, BC, after a battle with lung cancer. A resident of Qualicum Beach for 33 years, Ed lived an active life of travel, fun and laughter.

The Early Years: Hockey, Hydro, and the Air Force

Born in Winnipeg in 1936, Ed was the youngest of four siblings and grew up in an era when street hockey was played with frozen horse dung, a fact he shared with amusement when he talked about “the old days.” He witnessed the great Red River flood of 1950, and briefly worked as a lineman for Winnipeg Hydro. His tenure there ended abruptly when he punched the foreman’s son for mouthing off—an event that turned out to be a pivotal career move. Shortly thereafter, at the age of 18, he enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force, launching a 37-year career that took him around the world.

A Life in Service

Ed’s Air Force career began in the Cold War, monitoring radar for Soviet aircraft. Postings took him from Edgar, ON, to remote Holberg, BC, to Senneterre, QC—forever after referred to by Ed as the “arsehole of the world.” But an overseas posting soon followed. From 1964-66, Ed was stationed in Baden Solingen, Germany, and he and wife Anita lived in nearby Baden-Baden, enjoying the Black Forest, Rhine River, and gasthauses, which solidified Ed’s lifelong love of good food. A promotion to the officer corps drew him back to Canada: Montreal, then Winnipeg. In 1973, he went to Vietnam as part of an international team that arranged the release of over 30,000 prisoners of war. In the 1980s, he worked on the purchase of Canada’s CF-18 fighter jets out of St. Louis, Missouri. His final posting in Ottawa capped nearly four decades of service, where he was respected professionally and liked personally—a combination that few achieve.

Love Walked In

The Air Force gave Ed more than just a career; it introduced him to Anita Canale. They met in 1956 in the Operations Room of the Mid-Canada-Line Air Force base in Edgar, ON. Anita was a 17-year-old Scottish immigrant plotting aircraft movements; Ed was a 20-year-old Leading Aircraftman when he walked in the room and started chatting her up. She thought he was nice but “showed off a bit.” He was also persistent. After several date invitations (and an Easter card), she finally agreed to go out with him. Lacking a car, their courtship involved countless 20 km bus rides between the base and Anita’s home in Orillia, ON. Her father, however, was less enamoured of Ed and soon forbade him from setting foot in their house. This only encouraged the young couple: the summer of 1957 saw them wed at the United Church in Orillia. Anita had just turned 18; Ed was 21. It was the start of 67 years of marriage. Ever since, the Gershwins’ “Love Walked In” has remained one of Anita’s favourite songs.

Family Life

Ed was, above all, a family man. He and Anita navigated the ups and downs of parenting with a mix of discipline, humour, and an unshakable belief that they were doing the right thing—even when reality suggested otherwise. Take, for instance, the time they signed up five-year-old son Paul for an outdoor hockey league in Winnipeg, thinking it was a quintessential Canadian rite of passage. It was—just not for a kid who hated playing in minus-20-degree weather with a windchill. Ed understood. After each game or practice, he and Anita would whisk Paul away to Rachel’s Bakery for a rumball and hot chocolate, knowing full well that his son had more than earned it.

With Neal, it was rowing. In Ottawa, the two of them greeted the world before dawn, Ed driving his son to 5:00 a.m. practices on the Ottawa River with the quiet endurance of a man who had long since made peace with early mornings. He supported both sons in their pursuits, whether it was sports or music—tolerating endless guitar riffs, the need to borrow the car, and the flow of their friends through the house, and the general hubbub that came with a house full of growing boys.

Family time meant throwing a ball around after dinner, piling into the car for a drive-in movie, and, in later years, chats over dinner or game of cards. As a grandfather, he took the opportunity to be part of his grandkids’ lives, playing bocce with them on Qualicum Beach, getting their help in his garden, watching sports on TV, and lunching at favourite local restaurants (Samurai Sushi, Sam’s Sushi, Lan Vietnamese Express, Ramen 8, Chicken Zip, and Saigon Gardens) where the staff treated Ed and Anita like their own parents. He was also a great documentor in black and white photos of the early life of his family. Through all of life’s changes, one thing never wavered: Ed’s love for his family.

A Love Affair with Golf

You couldn’t know Ed without knowing about his golf game. He started caddying in Winnipeg at 14, and for a while, he considered turning pro—until his Aunt Ethel advised him to stick with the military. He listened to her, but never let go of the game. In 1981, he made the pilgrimage to Scotland, playing St. Andrews, Carnoustie, and Muirfield. A scratch golfer for years, he played for the competition but stayed for the friendships.

Golf wasn’t just a game for Ed; it was a way of life. At every club he joined—whether in Winnipeg, Ottawa, or Qualicum Beach—he was a fixture in the early morning tee times, his neon shirts and cargo shorts a familiar sight on the fairways. He found camaraderie in his foursomes, where the real victories weren’t just in birdies but in the banter, the laughs, and the shared appreciation for a well-struck iron. His golfing buddies were his closest friends, and the clubhouse was as much his home as anywhere else he lived.

His skill on the course was remarkable; between the ages of 77 and 80, Ed shot his age or lower 106 times—a feat that, while more achievable with age, still demands exceptional ability and consistency. Twice he was Pheasant Glen’s low net champion, in 2007 and again in 2018, proving that advancing years did little to diminish his competitive edge.

And while he took his golf seriously, he never lost sight of the bigger picture: the joy of competition, the thrill of a well-read putt, and the friendships that turned a solo sport into a lifelong community. His final round—six months before his passing—was at Pheasant Glen in Qualicum Beach with his sons, Neal and Paul, and grandson, Liam. While his play that day wasn’t quite at his peak (or even his mid-level), by the only metric that mattered—laughs, camaraderie, and the occasional profanity—it was a perfect round.

A Natural Sportsman

Ed’s love of competition wasn’t limited to the golf course. A natural athlete, he had the kind of effortless coordination that made every sport look easy. He ran four marathons and many 10 km races, including one with his daughter-in-law Faith and son Neal, and never shied away from the rigors of training. He was a strong swimmer, a reliable ballplayer, and, much to his sons’ delight, he could still throw a perfect spiral well into his fifties.

Ed also thrived at the card table. Whether it was crib, bridge, or a friendly game of Uno with his grandkids, he played with the same engagement that made him a force on the golf course. During the long winters in Senneterre, Quebec in the early 1960s, he, Anita, and friends spent hours at the bridge table, where Ed developed the banter and table talk that would become his trademark in any card game thereafter. No matter the stakes—whether it was for matchsticks or bragging rights—playing against Ed meant staying sharp, thinking fast, and expecting a well-timed quip whenever you least expected it.

The Good Life

Retirement brought the move he and Anita had dreamed of: to Qualicum Beach on Vancouver Island, where they could garden, golf, and host family get-togethers year-round. Ed loved recipes from Julia Child, novels by John Le Carre, and rom-coms with Tom Hanks. He loathed slow play on the golf course, bacon that wasn’t crispy, and any attempt to interfere with his remote control.

Ed was predeceased by brothers Leonard Charles James (Jim) Razzell and James Albert Kenneth (Bert) Razzell, sister Constance (Connie) Margaret Jane Rumsey (nee Razzell), and parents Alice Constance Hope Razzell (nee Cash) and Edwin Charles Leonard Razzell.

He is survived by his wife, Anita; son Paul and daughter-in-law Suzanne Ahearne; son Neal and daughter-in-law Faith Armitage; and grandchildren Liam Razzell, Dylan Razzell, Julian Armitage-Razzell, and Vivian Armitage-Razzell. Ed is also survived by brass plaques on the bar of the Pheasant Glen clubhouse bar marking his two holes in one.

The family extends heartfelt thanks to the caregivers who tended to Ed in his final months and the compassionate staff at Trillium Hospice. In lieu of flowers, raise a glass of wine, turn up Creedence Clearwater Revival’s greatest hits, and remember that the good life is about family, great food, and playing your cards as best as you can—no matter what’s dealt.