Golf Loses Club Pro Dick Munn to Cancer
The consummate “Club Pro” for a profession vital to the smooth and successful running of any golf course operation died this week.
by Kent Gilchrist
Dick Munn, who epitomized everything an aspiring pro should know and work to perfecting, was 72 when dreaded cancer claimed him.
I know the above to be true because, I was lucky enough to count Dick as a friend. I first met him when he was the head pro at tony Point Grey, a private enclave that is bordered by Marine Drive on one side and Shaughnessy on the other on Vancouver’s golfing avenue which non golfers call Marine Drive.
He is likely better known for starting Gallagher’s Canyon in Kelowna in 1980 with Alberta oilman Angus MacKenzie. But he started his career as a high school dropout where he became head pro at Cedar Hill in his hometown of Victoria when he was 19.
It has been my pleasure and honour to have played multiple rounds with Dick. And been in his company for many more adventures. He was a consummate gentleman and terrific companion. One of my favourite personal stories happened after Dick had managed to convince Golf Canada known as the Royal Canadian Golf Association to bring the Canadian Amateur to his remote outpost of Gallagher’s Canyon above the orchards and vineyards of Kelowna in 1988.
Doug Roxburgh would win his fourth Canadian Open there that week, but it was non-golf story that has stuck in my memory all these years. When Dick found out that Arv Olson, longtime golf writer for the Vancouver Sun and very good friend of his and I, more of a hanger-on in the company of two of the province’s golfing greats, were coming to Gallagher’s to cover the Canadian Amateur, he began planning a fishing trip. He and Arv were almost as avid fishermen as they were golfers.
I just wanted to make sure we had enough Cheezies for the fishing trip that was only slightly more interesting than any of the alternatives I could think up to do by myself.
Always enthusiastic, Dick painted a verbal picture of what we could expect once we got to the “lake” he had discovered where the trout were almost jumping into the boat. Sure it was a ways away and on roads that no map had ever identified. Being difficult to find and get to was why (Dick informed us) was why it was so good and so full of fish. Arv hung on his every word. I wanted to make sure we’d be able to stop at a convenience store for snack supplies before striking out on this adventure.
A four-wheel drive vehicle was essential and how he found the “lake” which a former prairie guy like me would describe as a slough, could have been another story entirely. Tree branches scraped both sides of the automobile for more than 90 minutes of the drive. If you like your scenery microscopically close, this was perfect.
All the way to his “find” Dick had promising stories of the time we were about to have. When we got there, he got in one of those belly boats all “real” fishermen have and Arv and I rode around in an aluminum car-topper. Arv and I paddled around for at least 60 minutes and the only bites we got were from mosquitoes feasting on any exposed skin.
So it wasn’t a shutout, Dick did catch a small trout that he released and we headed back to civilization with Munn apologizing profusely all the way. He “couldn’t understand it” he said. “the flying bugs were landing on the water’s surface” which indicated to him the fish should have been biting. All in all it was mystifying.
Luckily for his friend and partner, MacKenzie and then Caleb Chan, he made few if any misteps where golf was concerned.
The family has decided there will be no service.