We are saddened to honour and celebrate our colleague, mentor, and dear friend — Kent Haryett. His passing has left a void that cannot be filled, a silence where once there was deep conversation, sharp wit, passionate advocacy, and quiet wisdom.
Kent was, quite simply, a remarkable and diverse man. Each person who knew him had a unique relationship with him.
Kent was born an only child in Edmonton and raised by his parents, Rowland and Muriel. His remains will be interred at the Mount Pleasant Cemetery alongside his parents.
I always got the sense that Kent was a bit of a rebel as a teenager and young adult – his love of 70’s rock music started, well, in the 70’s, and remained throughout his life.
In the 80’s he obtained two undergraduate degrees whilst travelling to the UK as much as possible. He lived there for a time, meeting Vivian Butler, whom he would marry. They remained married for about 13 years. He always spoke fondly of his time living in the UK, I think he would have moved there to practice law if he could.
Kent attended law school in his early thirties, turning 35 the year he was called to the Bar. He articled to Brian Doherty, who planned for Kent to stay on in his real estate practice with Ron Schuldhaus. But Kent felt the calling of criminal defence. Early in his career, he opened Haryett & Company with several other lawyers. Janette Fleming joined his ranks as his office manager and, soon after, his closest friend for 25 years. Over the years, Kent principled at least 10 students at law.
He was deeply committed to the development of young lawyers. His articling students were not just employees — they were mentees who often became lifelong friends. His speeches in court recommending their admission to the bar were always moving, well-researched, and uniquely personal — a beautiful gift to each person he mentored.
Those of us who had the privilege of working beside him knew right away that he was brilliant — not just in the academic sense, though he certainly was that — but in his unique ability to convey wisdom that made people feel seen, understood, and respected. Kent carried with him an intellectual curiosity that couldn’t be taught — it came from deep within.
For every trial, he would spend countless hours on his couch or at his desk preparing his arguments and cross-examinations. Watching Kent take apart a less-than-credible or unwitting police officer on the stand felt like being in a masterclass.
Nevertheless, he believed the best outcomes often came not in court, but through his impressive negotiation skills. He knew when to take a firm or a soft approach; either way, he was always respectful. In his hundreds of impaired driving trials, he had a knack for taking the arresting officer aside before trial and convincing them to take his side in negotiating the Crown down to a careless driving or restorative treatment order.
He always said, “You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar”, a lesson I still play on repeat during difficult resolution discussions.
Many judges considered him an expert in impaired driving law – his ability to explain the law clearly and concisely caused judges to sit up and take notice. In that way, Kent contributed significantly to the development and creation of impaired law in this province.
No matter which court Kent found himself, he carried the same integrity, diligence, and care. So much integrity that, as one person said “Kent could make any representation in court, and we’d all just believe him. No one questioned his word; he had built that solid a reputation.”
He believed fiercely in fairness and in the proper, principled application of justice for everyone. I watched him many times with clients — speaking truthfully, sometimes intensely, but always with compassion. Even when the news was hard, Kent had a gift: he never stripped someone of their dignity.
Even Kent’s most hardened, teardrop-tattooed clients have broken down in tears hearing the news of his passing, lamenting the loss of the only lawyer who showed them true respect, and whom they truly trusted.
Many Crown Prosecutors commented on how much they respected working with Kent. He was the kind of “pain in the ass” you were always glad to have on the other side of a file. He was always honest. He would tell you when you had no case, mostly so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of the judge, not because he thought he was smarter than you – even though he usually was.
A junior defence lawyer sitting next to him in court one day just after Covid – someone he didn’t even know at the time – asked him how to make a request on a new Court procedure when she saw another lawyer making the same request and failing miserably. Kent’s reply, “I am about to ask for the same thing, so if what I say works, then you know what to say. If it doesn’t work, then at least you know what else not to say”. Whatever he said worked, as usual.
Others have said it too — this past week, the comments I have heard in court, in conversations and emails — even those who didn’t know him personally felt the depth of respect that surrounded him. He was a man of both competence and compassion, and that rare combination earned him deep admiration across the legal community.
Kent was an exceptional employer. Loyal to his staff, protective, and honest. Many assistants he hired were young and new in the industry. Many are here today, despite it being several years since they worked for him. They shared their memories of Kent giving them the start they needed and believing in them. He ‘took care of his girls’, whether it be from other lawyers, co-workers, or even their boyfriends from time to time. He was a genuinely kind, giving man… who was also a cheeky bastard from time to time.
You could disagree with him — loudly — and five minutes later it was done. He never held grudges.
It took a lot to anger him. He had the patience of a saint – with one student taking the maximum 3 years to complete their articles and another getting charged with impaired driving right before they started. Kent would go out of his way to help his staff, even when he didn’t have to.
One of his young employees once asked Kent for an unpaid leave to pursue a volunteer project. Not only did he agree, but a few days later when they stopped by the office (internally stressing out about their rent payment) — a paycheck awaited them. It was a classic Kent move: no big announcement, no explanation, just action. Just kindness.
When Kent hired Allison Crumpton, he thought he was getting an articling student, Allison thought she was getting a third-year law student job. Once the confusion was cleared, rather than bidding her well until next year, he kept her on part-time, then through her articles and several years beyond.
He would regularly force Allison out of the office at the end of the day. So much so, that sometimes she would wait in her car until he left and then sneak back in. On one occasion, Kent came back for something he forgot and found her toiling away on a Charter Notice. I don’t think many articling students can say they got busted for sneaking back into the office to do more work, but not many articling students had a principal like Kent.
Whether it was long lunches (most days of the week), sending support staff home early on Fridays, or closing the office early so we could play board games, Kent was a firm supporter of maintaining a healthy work/life balance.
There were lighter moments, too — moments that now shine like little beacons in our memory.
Like how Kent got his dad, an orthodontist, to facilitate purchasing the Intoxilyzer 5000 so that he could host an annual ‘Booze&Blow’ party for the Student Legal Services kids who worked in the offices above him.
The time “Marilyn Monroe” was hired to sing happy birthday as he judged in Moot Court.
Or the April Fool’s prank when his office manager convinced him the staff had taken the day off because it was a now a recognized national holiday.
And who could forget the bell? That mariner’s bell on the front wall, rung after every trial win. One year — 68 consecutive rings. Each one a small celebration of justice and skill, and Kent’s commitment to both.
His law firm, filled with excellent staff and talented young lawyers over the years, is a testament to the values he instilled: diligence, ethics, joie de vivre, and professionalism.
He never stopped learning. Whether it was from the latest case law, a podcast, something in the news, a TV show or song, Kent was always seeking knowledge, always expanding his view of the world. I loved the times he would walk into my office and talk for a half hour about something completely unrelated to work — sharing a new idea, a political theory, or a reflection on humanity. He made you think. He wanted you to think.
His love for politics was legendary. Many of us wondered why he never ran for office — he had the knowledge, the passion, and certainly the opinions! Sometimes, I think he said things just to get a rise out of us. But underneath that provocateur spirit was someone deeply committed to understanding how the world works.
His views on creation and meaning were constantly evolving. Kent didn’t believe in traditional religion, but he believed in something. Life, he said, was too complex to just “happen.” He loved discussing philosophy and theology, often spurred on by his appreciation for Jordan Peterson, who stated: “The better ambitions have to do with the development of character and ability, rather than status and power. Status you can lose. You carry character with you wherever you go, and it allows you to prevail against adversity.”
One thing Kent never cared about was status. He was probably one of the most understated and underestimated lawyers I know.
Kent was an avid historian, especially in military warfare. He spent much of his life collecting, arranging and re-enacting military battles with precision, using his vast collection of hand-painted military figures.
Kent was an avid fly-fisherman, exploring streams and rivers edges throughout Alberta for the best spots.
He also travelled as frequently as he could, appreciated good food and fine wine, and embraced new experiences. He most loved the pubs and Chelsea United FC in the UK, and the history and nightlife in Amsterdam.
He was planning to get back there in the past several years. Unfortunately, Covid-19, the death of impaired driving in Alberta, and his health all put up too many barriers.
Ever the optimist, instead, Kent brought friends together through his love of finding new board games that he could master and teach everyone to play.
Kent was complex and straightforward, serious and playful, principled and warm. He was a passionate advocate and an unforgettable mentor.
He adored his dog Nike, who was by his side every day for 14 years, and grew to love his crazy puppy Sheeba.
Kent, he made us laugh. Constantly. Whether at lunch, in the cafeteria, or at an Oilers game, Kent never failed to find the joke, the irony, or the joy in the moment.
In every interaction with those around him, He knew how to make them feel like they mattered.
Kent was a huge charmer, with a weakness for pretty ladies. But he always kept that part of his life extremely private. Many of his closest friends were not aware that Kent had a son in 2009. I had the honour of meeting Riley for the first time this week. Knowing that Kent was an only child himself, I am also very pleased to know that he will live on in another young man.
I like to imagine that right now, Kent is doing what he loved: debating with the gods and the angels — tongue in cheek and winking as he goads them on — hugging Nike, who’s likely racing in circles around him just like she did as a pup. Maybe he’s sitting down to tea with his mom, fly-fishing with his dad, or sipping a fine wine while chuckling at the occasional courtroom mishap he’s observing from above.
Kent, we love you. We miss you. And we are truly grateful that you have impacted our lives. Each in our own way.
The courtrooms and the cafeteria are a little bit quieter now. But your legacy — of justice, generosity, and just a little bit of mayhem — lives on in all of us.