CANADA’S GENERIC GIANT APOTEX, Barry Sherman’s child, is up for sale. The directive, say sources close to the business, came from the four Sherman children within two months of the murders: sell Apotex at the highest price available. The Florida property, intended for opioid production, purchased for US$50 million in the months before Barry was killed, was sold for $30 million in early 2019. The European operations had been sold off six months after the murders. Though the four children technically own Apotex equally (with a few minor shareholders, including Jack Kay), Jonathon has asserted himself as the controlling force. Sisters Lauren and Kaelen have sat back and watched. Sister Alex has not. She has pushed back in certain areas, particularly in the area of philanthropy, where she has assumed the title of president of the Sherman Foundation. Mark Gryfe, a well-known figure in Canadian philanthropy circles (former president of Baycrest Foundation and campaign director of the UJA for years), said he is impressed with how the Sherman children are continuing their parents’ tradition of giving. “They have taken up the mantle in ways that I am beyond impressed. I see so many families where kids are inheriting millions and, in some cases, billions, where there is very little interest in philanthropy.” He said the four Sherman children are being approached “left and right” and there are “million-dollar gifts and multi-million dollar gifts being distributed with incredible generosity. I think Barry and Honey would be very proud.” There is tension, though, over where the charitable dollars should go. Alex and Jonathon have sparred over ideas. He and some of his business partners asked in 2019 for “$40-$50 million” from the Sherman Foundation to build what he has described to others as a “premium” hockey arena for youth and adult programs that would be affiliated with the UJA. Alex has resisted this, concerned that it does not fit her parents’ charitable vision.
With Barry and Honey gone, the four children and the extended family have settled into an uneasy relationship. At various times, one group is not speaking to the other. Kaelen has moved to Israel; Lauren spends most of her time at her west coast retreat teaching yoga and providing therapy to clients with depression and anxiety. Jonathon and Fred, through surrogacy, now have two baby boys, and Jonathon is busy with Green Storage and a new business (Harlo Capital, a secondary market mortgage provider) he started in the fall of 2017. Meanwhile Alex has daily strategy meetings regarding the family’s goal of continuing Barry and Honey’s giving legacy. Mary, Honey’s sister, was not invited to Kaelen’s wedding in April 2018 at the McMichael Canadian Art Gallery in Kleinburg. Her marriage to the electrician did not last long. Within three months, the couple separated and by summer 2019 were divorced. People close to the Shermans use the word “collateral damage,” a military term, to refer to what happened in the aftermath of the murders. Friends like Bryna Steiner wake up from nightmares, their sleeping selves conjuring images of what happened to her friends. Joel Ulster will find himself walking along a street or watching a play and something will trigger a memory and “then the tears come.” Kerry Winter, who caused a great deal of upset to the Shermans with his comments immediately after the murders, has had his own issues to deal with. His young children have been bullied at school, harassed by fellow students who say Kerry is a “murderer.” At Apotex, veteran employees say they miss seeing Barry Sherman walking the halls in his white labcoat, at ease both with the science of the laboratory and the business of the boardroom.
The biggest sign that there was a changing of the guard came on December 14, 2018, at the Apotex offices. It was one year after the murders. Jack Kay was sitting in his office, which used to belong to Barry Sherman. He was CEO of the organization, called in by the trustees to take over that role after Jeremy Desai left. Kay’s plan, as he had told colleagues at Apotex, was to retire on March 31, 2019. There would likely be a party—not that he liked parties—but he expected there would be some sort of event. It would be bittersweet, of course, but still a recognition of his many years of service. There had been tension between Kay and Jonathon Sherman in the past few months. Kay was balking at how fast the plans for selling Apotex were moving. He wanted to honour Barry Sherman’s legacy and ensure that the employees were protected. At one point, according to Sherman family sources, Jonathon had suggested that Kay was somehow involved in the murders, and tried unsuccessfully to convince his sister Alex that this was the case. At 5 P.M. on the dot, Jonathon Sherman and Jeff Watson walked into his office. Watson, a longtime Apotex executive and protégé of Kay’s, and a former Canadian Football League offensive lineman, was next in line in the corporate structure. Jonathon held no formal role in the company. As a source with knowledge of what transpired that December day describes, Jonathon told Kay that “the beneficiaries believe it is time for you to leave.” Jonathon gave Kay a paper to sign. Kay did not sign it. He asked about his files and the items on his desk. Jonathon told him they would be sent to him. Both Sherman and Watson walked Kay out of the building. A week later, while Kay was out, Jonathon delivered several boxes that held files and personal items from his time at Apotex to Kay’s home. Watson was appointed president and CEO, under direction of the estate trustees. The next day, in Apotex’s executive parking lot, Watson’s nameplate was affixed where Kay’s had been. Beside it, still adorned with a cluster of flowers, old and new, was Barry Sherman’s space and nameplate.
At time of writing, the police investigation continues, as does the Sherman family’s private investigation. My sources tell me that the two family members who have been most active in pushing the police to stay focused on the now almost two-year-old investigation are Alex and Mary, frequently passing on information they think might be pertinent.
The deaths of Barry and Honey Sherman left a gaping hole in the Jewish community in Toronto and far beyond. But for some who had a close connection to the couple, there is a sense that their impact will be long-lasting. Joanne Mauro, Sherman’s steadfast assistant, has remained at Apotex. She says she misses Sherman every day.
“Barry had such an impact on so many people. Since his passing, I feel I am a different person. I don’t let anything bother me anymore.”
Barry and Honey Sherman were buried in a Jewish cemetery in the north end of Toronto. Their headstone is identical in size and shape to the other headstones in the cemetery, but where others refer simply to “loving parents,” or “much-beloved mother and father,” the Barry and Honey stone highlights their legacy of service. “Mom and Dad were beloved leaders and members of our community, and they are dearly missed by all who knew and loved them.” The home where the Shermans lived and died, at 50 Old Colony Rd., was the subject of an application to the city in early 2019. The Sherman family had asked for and obtained permission to demolish the house due to the “bad memories and a stigma attached due to the incident that took place.” The Toronto Police were aware of this development but took no position on the plan, as they had returned the home to the family long before. Construction hoarding went up around the home and in May 2019, excavators tore the house down, filling in the outdoor pool and the basement lap pool where their bodies were found. The property was graded flat and the family plans to sell it as a building lot. Whatever clues to the murder the home might hold are now buried forever.