AS pallbearers solemnly carried the coffin of Gregory John Brown past mourners, Rob Beatty leaned forward from the end of his pew and tenderly reeled in an imaginary fishing line as his good mate left All Saints Anglican Church in Moree.

It was a poignant moment from one close friend to another – almost surreal – during the funeral service of one of Moree’s best-loved residents.

“Brownie was a good mate,” Rob said.

“We would leave Moree early to get to Copeton and Pindari dams before sunrise – get in the early bite.

“There were overnight stays as well and we would talk about everything from fishing to family, to politics,” he said.

“Brownie once said to me, the only thing he would regret was not seeing his grandkids grow up.

“We never had an argument – ever. He was a staunch family man, and a mate who will be missed by everyone.

“Tight lines, Brownie.”

Greg Brown passed away last month after losing his two-year battle with cancer.

He was 78.

Brownie was born in Bingara on March 13, 1947, to Eric and Patricia Brown and grew up surrounded by the strong ties of family.

All Saints Anglican Church minister Philip van’t Spyker read Brownie’s eulogy to a large congregation. He told mourners a fishing line and tackle box were never far away during the early days in Bingara.

“Greg’s love of fishing would lead him to a riverbank most weekends,” Philip said.

“Sometimes, the whole family would go and compete for who could catch the most, and it was usually Greg who won,” he smiled.

Brownie’s second love as a child was boxing, and later cricket.

“He took boxing seriously, trained hard, and competed when he could,” Philip said.

“Those early years helped shape his quiet strength, his loyalty, and the deep sense of responsibility he carried throughout life.”

After completing Year 8, Brownie moved to Moree, where, by chance one afternoon a few years later on Balo Street, he met the love of his life, Julie Forman – thanks to an ice-cream she refused to share.

From that moment, a romance blossomed and they built a beautiful life together, raising four children – Natalie, Joseph, Michael, and Phillip.

“Greg was the kind of father who didn’t just teach with words; he taught by example,” Philip told mourners.

“He showed his children what it meant to work hard, stand tall, and take care of the people they love.”

As Greg’s family grew, he gained three daughters-in-law – Jennifer, Trudy, and Renee – and a son-in-law, Jason.

Bonds were formed, and years of beautiful memories created – and a fishing line and tackle box were never far away.

Nothing made Brownie prouder than watching the next generations come into the world.

He adored his grandchildren – Alexandra, Maddison, Tahlia, Claudia, Jazmine, Logan, Jackson, Huxley, Jett, Finley, and Arlo – and his great-grandchildren, Aryiah, Willow, Jahvon, and Kayden.

Many of the children spoke fondly at the funeral service, sharing memories of their superhero.

“Each brought Greg joy in their own way,” Philip said.

“He loved hearing their stories, watching them grow, and seeing the future of the Brown family through their eyes.”

Brownie became an integral cog of Moree Cricket Association, especially junior cricket, and was made a life member for his services to the game in Moree.

He didn’t just earn that title – he lived it – and gave years of weekends, evenings and early mornings to the sport and youth of Moree.

He was the bloke who set up the fields, umpired in the blistering heat, helped kids who couldn’t hold a bat straight, calmed over-excited parents, washed jumpers, and stayed back to pack everything away.

He gave the cricket community his time, patience, humour and a genuine love of watching kids enjoy the game.

Brownie’s work CV was vast, and spoke volumes about the man he was.

He put in the hard yards at Cargill Oilseeds and later spent years in building and maintenance positions.

He worked in retail at stores like Not Just Tools, AR Kemp and Son, Hong Yuens and Assef’s Menswear.

But when Brownie started working at Hardman’s Outdoors, all his dreams truly came together – the fishing reels aligned for the bloke who always had a tackle box close by.

It was the perfect job – selling fishing gear, talking fishing, helping people choose rods, lures and lines, and probably convincing a few blokes to buy something they didn’t really need.

Every day was a chance to talk about the one thing he loved most – fishing.

For Brownie, manning the counter at Hardman’s Outdoors wasn’t simply a job, it was heaven on earth – or at least the closest thing the heaven on earth until he found the real fishing spots up above.

There was no more perfect moment when good mate Rob Beatty cast an invisible fishing line and slowly reeled it in as Brownie was carried to his final resting spot.

They were fishing mates who never needed to ask twice if the other wanted to wet a line – and they rarely came home empty-handed.

If they did, they were always armed with “the one that got away” – the fisherman’s staple.

There were many close friends in Brownie’s circle, including Ray Shoobert, Phillip Drew, Rob Johnson, Clyde Mitchell, Bobby Gill, Lance Duncan, Kevin Johns and Sonny Clissold – the ties with south Moree neighbourhood families, especially Grace Street and Midkin Place families, were strong.

Christmas parties became street events shared between the Browns, Duncans, Frenches, McLarens, Skaines, Milgates and Brownie’s mother-in-law, Barbara, who lived four houses away on Edward Street.

Greg Brown was a loving family man, fisherman, sportsman, worker, mate to many and a storyteller all rolled into one, and those who knew him – even just a little – knew he had a heart as big as the river he loved.

Brownie valued the simple but most important things in life: family, loyalty and love.

He was steady. He was dependable. And he was always there when advice or a helping hand was needed – his love wasn’t loud, but it was strong, constant and unconditional.

Rest in peace, Brownie . . .