When you examine the story of Art and Cindy Quackenbush, it would be easy to say life is unfair.
You could argue that fate was unfair when Art suffered a life-threatening brain injury while reffing a girls basketball scrimmage at Thanksgiving 2023. However, his medical emergency led his wife Cindy to early detection and treatment of leukemia.
Fate seemed cruel again in February when Cindy succumbed from a year-long battle with cancer. Art was continuing his recovery and awaiting Cindy’s memorial service – a mere six days away – when he passed June 1 at his Canton home.
Were the fates too cruel to this well-known North Country couple?
“His kids aren’t saying, ‘Poor us,’ ” said family friend Larry Casey, former director of guidance at Canton’s Hugh C. Williams High School. “Those kids know how wonderful their parents made their lives. They know they had two magnificent, Hall of Fame parents.’’
Their deaths leave a hole, make that a crater, in their community and the North Country. Cindy was a retired Ogdensburg elementary teacher, the compassionate person on Judson Street you could call in any emergency, the mother and sports taxi driver for four children – Jay, Katie, John Henry and Meggie – who instilled loyalty, hard work, honesty and fun.
Art was a member of the athletic Hall of Fame in Canton and Morristown. He coached Section X basketball champions, was an accomplished referee who was chosen to represent Section X at the state basketball championships, and an administrator and athletic director at Canton.
There isn’t enough space on this page to cite every good work and civic-minded kindness they performed for friends and colleagues. But they leave a legacy.
In retirement, Cindy was known for her participation in book clubs, knitting groups and art classes. One of Cindy’s last conservation projects was to plant a butterfly garden at Canton-Potsdam Hospital as well as several pollinator gardens around her community.
Perhaps her greatest accomplishment was keeping Art in line. She carried a wonderfully wry sense of humor, and I saw her at her best at the July Fourth parade in Morristown about 10 years ago.
In this 49-year marriage of the Irish, Art was the shenachie (Gaelic for storyteller). He was holding court for his former students along Main Street, recalling games and the nicknames he cherished like Hockey Night in Canada and Hippo Taylor. At 6-foot-4 with aviator glasses and red hair, he was hard to miss and was clad in a white T-shirt with “NANTUCKET’’ emblazoned across the chest.
I turned to Cindy and said, “He knows that T-shirt carries a lot of baggage from that bawdy limerick, correct?”
“He’s clueless,’’ Cindy said with a resigning eyeroll. “But the best part is he wouldn’t care.’’
Casey’s friendship with the Quackensbush family dates to the mid-1970s when Art interviewed for a faculty position at Morristown. Years later, Casey recalled Art’s resolute spirit from an AAU basketball game.
Casey was coaching his son, Donal, and Art’s son, John Henry, in an AAU championship game against Gouverneur. Canton trailed by two with about 15 seconds left, and Art was one of the referees.
Casey remembered how John Henry speed-dribbled the length of the court, then threw a kick-out pass to a three-point shooter.
“The play worked,’’ Casey said. “The kid drained the shot and Art is right on top of the call, right there. He signals a three. Gouverneur goes crazy. They insist it was a two. Canton goes bonkers because we won.’’
“That was Art. He never shied away from controversy. If that was the right decision, so be it. Art’s attitude was – ‘I made the right call. I did the right thing. It’s done.’ ”
Art compiled an enviable record as a coach, but when he pinch-hit as Morristown baseball coach for my father, the moment fizzled into anonymity.
On a spring Saturday in 1982, in his 32nd season of coaching, Fran Holleran was committed to the baptism of his third grandchild, Mary Brigid Considine, in Champlain, N.Y.
Sports editor Dave Shea recounted the tale in the Ogdensburg Journal.
“There was never a question of priority but the idea of missing a game was still uncomfortable,’’ Shea wrote two months later upon Fran Holleran’s death. “Art Quackenbush, MCS’s soccer and basketball coach, agreed to stand in – but the game was rained out.’’
“I had the uniform on and was ready to go,’’ Art said, “but I always had the feeling that nobody was meant to coach a Morristown baseball team until Fran was ready to give it up.’’
Cindy was no slouch at storytelling either. On that Fourth of July, when the parade ended, the Quacks wandered down to the river to visit our family, gathered at my sister Maureen’s camp. Cindy recollected how our mother, Eileen, a labor and delivery nurse for 47 years at A. Barton Hepburn Hospital, had assisted with the delivery of each of her children.
“I remember your mother brought our firstborn into the room and placed him in my arms,’’ Cindy said. “I’ll never forget what she said – ‘Now you know how much your mother loved you when you were born.’ ’’
Her story left us in tears.
Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/
You can find an earlier story about Art and Cindy at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/2024/07/22/quackenbush-family-tested-by-vow-in-sickness-and-in-health/
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