Herb Carnegie’s Hockey Hall of Fame call was long overdue, but welcome

The call that broke the big news came before the actual phone call.

Bernice Carnegie was minding her own business when a reporter from New York called to ask how she and the rest of the family felt now that it was finally happening: her late father, Herb Carnegie, was going to be inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame.

“I had been working in my office and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, and he had to read out the press release to me. I was caught off guard and kept asking, ‘Really? Are you sure?’” Bernice told the Star in a recent interview, recalling that day last spring and how the news spread like wildfire through family circles.

Shortly after, it was her nephew calling with his TV volume cranked up as the official announcement was made.

Carnegie, the Black hockey crusader who faced a mountain of racism and was denied the chance to play in the NHL, but did so much to help the game grow in communities across Canada — will be inducted posthumously on Monday as a builder.

Nicknamed Swivel Hips for his ability to skate past opponents, Carnegie’s tireless work toward greater diversity in the game was cited by the selection committee as one of the reasons behind his selection.

The 2022 class also includes NHL greats Henrik and Daniel Sedin, Roberto Luongo and Daniel Alfredsson as well as Finnish women’s star Riikka Sallinen.

“I was crying, everybody was excited and grinning,” Bernice Carnegie said of reaction to the induction announcement. “It was just the most wonderful thing. I have to say, I didn’t really believe it was ever going to happen.”

Recognition had started to feel like a lost cause.

Starting years before Carnegie’s death at age 92 in 2012, multiple efforts — including a strong push in 2006 with influential hockey figures writing letters of support — had failed.

Born in Toronto to Jamaican immigrants, he’d found a way to have a successful playing career outside the NHL, then transitioned to community-building initiatives. He created a hockey school; started a foundation to help kids across the country; was named to the Order of Canada and the Order of Ontario; and was elected to 14 other halls. But the doors to hockey’s shrine had remained closed, until now.

“The current generations just wouldn’t have known who my dad was,” said Bernice, a speaker and storyteller who keeps her father’s goals alive through her work. She’s also co-owner of the Toronto Six in the Premier Hockey Federation.

During a June conference call announcing the 2022 class, the Star’s Kevin McGran asked other inductees what Carnegie’s induction means to the hockey world and its efforts to increase diversity. They had little to say.

Daniel Sedin said he didn’t know much about Carnegie, but would read and learn about him, adding “he seems like an amazing man.” Said Hall of Famer Mike Gartner, chair of the selection committee: “Do not feel bad that you have not heard of Herb, but you will have heard of Herb now.”

To those who knew him and followed his career trajectory, Carnegie was already a legend.

Hall of Famer Willie O’Ree, the first Black NHLer, said Carnegie was among the players who were good enough to be in the league but denied because of race.

In the foreword to Carnegie’s autobiography “A Fly in a Pail of Milk: The Herb Carnegie Story,” NHL legend Jean Béliveau — who played with Carnegie in the Quebec senior league — wrote: “It’s my belief that Herbie was excluded from the NHL because of his colour.”

Longtime Maple Leafs owner Conn Smythe once famously said he would pay $10,000 to anyone who could turn Carnegie white. Decades of racism took a toll on Carnegie’s mind and soul.

“I got that statement when I was 18. How would you feel?” Carnegie told CBC in 2009, breaking down in tears. “I can’t forget it. Because he cut my knees off. He broke my legs. It’s horrible. So I don’t want people to go through that.”

While the selection committee did not explain what put Carnegie’s nomination over the top, Bernice said pressure from the hockey community was mounting. Grandson Rane Carnegie, for one, started a petition that collected over 10,000 signatures.

Hockey historian Eric Zweig said the definition of the builder category might have been a factor. For years, it was a way to induct NHL owners and other executives. Only in recent years has the hall enshrined builders from outside the NHL.

“What O’Ree and Carnegie have done is to expand opportunities for minorities and to provide life lessons through hockey, but not necessarily for hockey,” said Zweig, author of “Hockey Night in the Dominion of Canada.”

He added that Carnegie’s use of hockey as a way to educate youth was an achievement worthy of Hall of Fame recognition.

“I’m sure there’s also a component of trying to right historic wrongs in their recent inductions, but I think the recognition is better late than never. Although in Carnegie’s case, it’s sad that he isn’t alive to see it.”

Bernice said her father “reinvented himself over and over” and never let disappointment or challenges keep him down. He excelled in the Quebec league, winning MVP honours in three successive seasons.

After he retired from playing at 35, Carnegie became a financial adviser and philanthropist. He launched the first registered hockey school in Canada — Future Aces — and later founded the Herbert H. Carnegie Future Aces Foundation to foster positive, inclusive behaviour.

“He knew those young boys were not going to be accepted,” Bernice said about her father’s drive to help young people thrive. “Just imagine what he would have achieved if he had been accepted into the NHL.”

Carnegie lost his sight to glaucoma for the last 25 years of his life. Bernice said her father’s love for the game never wavered. He continued to skate and train with his grandchildren, and give sound advice to other young players. North York Centennial Arena was renamed after him in 2001, as was a public school in Vaughan in 2008.

Had he been alive for induction weekend, Bernice has no doubt he would be “grinning ear to ear.”

“Whenever he got any good news after he became blind, his eyes would just sparkle and he’d get this little wry smile on his face,” she said.

“His legacy should be that he was a man with a big heart. He had a kindness and a fairness about him that was just undeniable, and his vision for the world was so huge; with every disappointment, he wanted to see how he could help make it better. So he never gave up.”

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