Page 2: Ode to a Mammoth character

Renowned local fish killer “Brookie” Brad, whose last name Beckering was finally revealed upon his death, passed away on September 13 in Southern California as a result of complications following an asthma attack. He was 66.

For most, Brookie was his first name, and Brad was the last.

He was a longtime (~30 years) employee at the c-store at the Norco service station.

When he wasn’t working, he was fishing.

As local fishing guide Mike Manning recalled, “People (the catch-and-release folks, the fly fishermen, et. al.) would give him s*&t because he was a diehard Power Bait guy and a self-proclaimed ‘fish killer.’ But he ate what he caught.”

“He was just a cool character,” continued Manning, “And whether people had good or bad to say about him, they had something to say.”

As Rick Flamson of Rick’s Sport Center recalled, “I’ve seen him buy a bag of chips next door [at Mammoth Liquor], then come over here, dip the chips in Power Bait and eat them … they warn you on the bottle that Power Bait isn’t fit for human consumption. But that’s how much he believed in Power Bait.

He was also very proud of the fact that he was (according to Brookie) the king of catching Alpers Rainbows. Under the ice cream, etc. in the freezer at the c-store, he’d keep 3 to 5 monsters in there to show to people.”

As Norco’s owner Russ Norton said, Brookie had good energy, was fun to be around and was fun to tease.

“He was always complaining about how busy it was, regardless of how busy it was,” laughed Norton.

“And he’d always be wearing those shirts with the sleeves cut off, even in the dead of winter,” said Manning.

“I’d tease him that the only place he could catch a fish was at the Hot Creek Hatchery at night,” added Norton. “He had his secret spots. And he would never reveal to anyone where he was.”

Doug Hornbeck’s favorite Brookie story? “One day, Brookie was showing me pics of some of the fish he’d caught and I asked where he caught them. He said, ‘Oh no, I can’t tell you that. That’s a secret spot.’ I looked at some of the background in the photo and said, ‘Sure looks like Kermit Lake.’ He looked at me in horror and ran off.”

“All I can tell you is that he was crazed,” smiled Flamson. “He had no issue about getting up early, 3, 3:30 in the morning, just so he could secure his spot.”

And he was also kind.

“If he saw people out there not catching fish, he’d always volunteer to help,” said Flamson. Brookie was an ambassador of fishing, an ambassador for Mammoth and even an ambassador for Rick’s Sport Center.

“The night before opener, he’d come to the store to volunteer to help people. And if I’d said I had it covered and didn’t need him, he would’ve ignored me and come anyway,” said Flamson.

Brookie was the only fisherman Flamson knew who would buy size 20 gold treble hooks, and earlier this year, Flamson bought five dozen to personally stock for Brookie. He’s got four dozen left. “I’ll never get rid of them,” he says.

Which is a good thing. As long as those hooks stay in that bin, there’ll be a little piece of Brookie calling out to local anglers.

Now please excuse me while I wander off to my closet to hack the sleeves off a sweatshirt.