photo by Denese Freeman
Sherrie Brubaker shows off 2 nice bass at WBFA event on Grand Lake in 2003

Once again, I was packing a few clothes in an overnight bag to make a trip to West Lake, Louisiana. This trip had a different tone. The thoughts of “this is going to be fixed with a few doctor visits and things will be back to normal” weren’t in the picture. As I was getting ready to leave, my mind was going back to when Sherrie Brubaker and I first crossed paths.

photo by Denese Freeman

Sherrie Brubaker showing her strength at WBFA Grand Lake weigh-in

The most prominent first memory was of Sherrie winning the Bass’n Gal tournament on Kentucky Lake in August 1994. I remember hearing her name in many tournaments before and wanting to know her secret to always catching fish. She seemed to always catch fish. At that particular tournament we had room reservations at the same motel. She had her family, Vic (her husband), Ginger (her daughter), and Luke (her son). I had my two daughters Anna and Lillie with me. In the evenings, the kids would swim and play in the pool. It was here that I talked with Vic, as he would come to the pool to watch Ginger and Luke while I was watching Anna and Lillie swim and play around the pool. Sherrie was usually in the boat retying or re-spooling reels. Vic was one of the nicest people I have ever met.  In later times when we became friends I would tell “Bru” “we (some of the girls that fished) used to laugh and wonder how you ever got a guy as nice as Vic.” 

Sherrie was a very tough competitor. She gave it her whole. She would be completely absorbed in the tournament competition and more times than not she would “cash a check”. She had learned most of her bass fishing skills from Vic. They both talked of times fishing on Toleda Bend before they made the boat lanes. Anyone who has ever fished Toleda Bend would wonder how a person would get 200 hundred yards from the boat launch without the marked lanes. Vic had fished Toleda Bend when he was young and knew the lake like the back of his hand with or without boat lanes. Sherrie took it all in and didn’t forget it.

Throughout the tournaments and years our paths crossed more at each of the tournaments. I actually got to where I could catch fish and wouldn’t hesitate to ask Sherrie how she caught hers. This usually came after the tournament because she was pretty closed mouth during the tournament. She used to tell me, “relax a little, enjoy the time out on the water, don’t fight it, you hunt use your natural instincts.” I was thinking, “yeah, I can see that deer when it’s coming. I can’t see those fish down below and wondering if they are even there.”

Somehow during the years we would challenge each other to an arm wrestling contest. We would walk by and grab each other’s hand in a mock arm wrestling pose and size each other up for MAYBE a future confrontation. I would always go away thinking, “man this girl has some muscle in that arm, do I really want to arm wrestle her?”  It seemed as if I had arm wrestled all my life. I had never been beaten by a girl(woman). I was the intramural arm wrestling champ at Ole Miss, “way back when”. Sherrie had probably never been beaten by a “girl” either.

This went on for quite sometime until finally at the WBFA Classic on the Red River at Marksville, LA when the final banquet was over we decided it was TIME. There was a mad rush of chairs and tablecloths being pushed aside and the mini stage was set. My heart was beating wildly, mostly from the thought of getting beat and tarnishing my undefeated record against another lady. I didn’t know how Sherrie’s heart was beating but I know I had quite an adrenalin rush going. One of the employees of the casino volunteered to be the official starter. I had a good tournament and my luck held out. I put her down. It wasn’t easy and she quickly said, “Let’s do it left handed.” She was left handed. I didn’t know that until then. I was right handed. It makes sense to want to go with your strength. My first thought was, “You are crazy! I managed to put your right arm down and you want me to give you another chance with my weaker arm.” Fair is fair. I agreed to the left arm. Once again I was able to push her arm down. I don’t think there was anyone in the room that thought I could, but my husband Mike and my daughters Anna and Lillie and my friend Linda Sands. Sherrie and I agreed to a rematch sometime. We did have a rematch a few years later at the Classic on the Red River at Shreveport. This time she won quite handily.

Two weeks later we back on the Red River at Alexandria for the Fall Harvest tournament of the WBFA. This wasn’t a good tournament for Sherrie. After a few rule changes, a contestant could no longer be on the water with anyone except another competitor or spouse after Friday before official practice began on Monday. I have to admit the rule change was confusing, you could accept information from anyone till Sunday but you couldn’t have them in the boat with you. Unfortunately for Sherrie, she had a friend who wanted to show her places on the river on Saturday. She was disqualified for the tournament. That disqualification meant her chances of making the classic for the following year would be extremely hard and her being the AOY again were gone.

Our next tournament was in March on Lake Eufaula in Alabama. I feel sure Sherrie had dwelled on the upcoming year and not having a chance at the AOY title and she later told me even making the classic. My husband Mike is a numbers person and always calculates what place I need to come in each of the tournaments to make the Classic. He gets pretty darn close each year too. Anyway, I don’t remember exactly where we were at the tournament but I told her Mike had figured it up and she needed to place in the top eight or ten the remaining tournaments and she would make the Classic. In later times she told me she thought I was kidding with her when I first said she could place in the top ten and make it. She also said it was then that she had a renewed determination to be in that Classic field at the end of the year, and she was. She won the final tournament. It was on Kentucky Lake at Camden, TN in July. It was very hot and the fishing was extremely difficult, but Sherrie being Sherrie, came in with fish each day and even had a breakdown with her boat the second day, borrowed a boat during the tournament hours, made a pretty good run and still caught enough fish to win. 

Sherrie liked to poke fun also. It was a tournament at Santee Cooper in South Carolina that she, Sheri Glasgow, Mary DiVincenti, Vicki Eisler and I all rented a nice five- bedroom house to stay in for the tournament week. Since I was a late-comer, I had an upstairs bedroom. But that was fine. I would park my boat right under the window each evening and raise the window so I could hear any noise on the outside, just in case someone decided they wanted any of my tackle. I was sure that I would hear anything going on. On Monday of practice I was coming in for the day in the canal between Moultrie and Marion when my boat quit on me. Fortunately, I was close the ramp and made it in fine. Some of the fellows there helped me load the boat and proceeded to check it out to see why it quit on me. They finally decided the bulb on the gas line had gone bad. They replaced it and then I noticed that I had failed to switch tanks. I was out of gas. Actually I switched tanks while they were pumping the bulb and bingo the motor starts. Ha! Imagine that, put a little gas in and it runs.

Well me being me, I wasn’t about to tell my room mates what I had done. But Mike called that night on the house phone and Sherrie answered. He told her. That news spread quickly in the hen house. That night after I went to bed, with window cracked, Mary and Sherrie decided I might need a little help in the coming days in keeping gas in the boat. That night they dug through the storage room of the house and found a small gas tank and then proceeded to duct tape it to the back seat of the boat. Imagine my surprise the next morning (and I didn’t hear a thing), I walk out and there is this red gas tank taped to the boat. Yes, they laughed about it for many days and years actually. 

My boat worries weren’t over. I had trolling motor problems and it was then that I first fished with Sherrie. I left my boat to have the trolling motor repaired and Sherrie asked if I wanted to fish with her that afternoon. Sure, I thought I might learn something from one of the best. I remember we fished for bedding bass. She was what I deemed an expert in this and I was less than a novice. We or should say, she caught a few fish and then it was time to go in. She wanted to know if I wanted her to demonstrate some type of quick turn around in her Champion boat, while going maybe not full speed up on plane very good. I told her “no thank you and if you want to get back home to your family you won’t do it.” She didn’t. 

Being someone who liked to cook, it was always fun and gratifying to cook for Sherrie. She could make the simplest meal seem like a feast. It was as if each dish deserved the utmost attention. She would start with a salad, making it almost a meal in it itself. A heaping bowl of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese and then the dressing, covering everything with just the right amount of dressing and then salt and pepper for the added touch. When that was finished she would turn to the main course giving each bite the utmost attention and consideration. Many times she ate what Mary and I cooked. Whether it was gumbo, smoked Cornish hens, elk roast or grilled chicken she enjoyed eating and we enjoyed watching her eat.               

Her health problems started in July of 2004. She called me on a Tuesday afternoon from Oklahoma telling me that she had a lump in her breast and was going to West Lake Wednesday to the doctor. I told her that I was coming to go with her. She said no, I said yes. We didn’t know what it was, but she had told me that her mother had died of breast cancer. That was what I was afraid it was. Having been diagnosed with uterine cancer the year before and was at the doctor by myself, I didn’t want her to be there by herself.

Another phone call, Mary Divincenti and I would meet in Baton Rouge and go on to West Lake and meet Sherrie on Wednesday evening and go with her to the hospital Thursday morning for the lump to be removed. We got a room at one of the local motels that night. I remember Mary and Sherrie waking me and saying the air conditioner had quit. Big deal, well it was July the 22^nd to be exact. We were in south Louisiana and it was very hot. Now Sherrie being Sherrie goes to her suburban and pulls a tool kit out and proceeds to work on the air conditioner and gets it running once again. It was 1:00 in the morning. I remember this very well because Mary pulls out her camera and starts taking pictures, saying “we need a clock to show what time it is”. I had a better idea, let me hold up one finger, (index mind you) indicating that it was 1:00 a.m. “Yes we do have pictures. Now can we go back to sleep? We have to get up in a few hours.”

Our worst thoughts and fears came true the next day. Sherrie had breast cancer. They had taken the lump out and a lot of tissue around it. Hopefully, they got all of the cancer but  if not the doctor said he would recommend taking the breast off. It was an emotional and stressful day, Mary and I were trying to be cheerleaders and messengers, relaying messages to Ginger and Melanie (her sister). Vic was in a nursing home with failing health. One of Sherrie’s first thoughts and worries that day was not about herself, but of the welfare of her kids. The day did have its lighter moments when Mary pulled on the latex examining gloves popping the wrist telling Sherrie to rollover.

It was late afternoon by the time we left the hospital. Sherrie would hear from the biopsy the next day or on Monday. We had to make a trip by the doctor’s office and then we had some free time. All of us were starving because we hadn’t eaten since the night before. We went to Steamboat Bill’s. I don’t remember what Mary and I ate but I remembered that Sherrie ate something that didn’t look good to me. We got some pie to go and back to the motel room hoping the air conditioner had been fixed. Thankfully it was running full blast and cooling real good. Me being the “old” one of the bunch I was ready for a shower and sleep. I remember waking in the middle of the night, they were sitting up talking, eating pie and I was pulling blankets on because I was freezing. The air conditioner was working almost too well. The temperature was in the high fifties.           

The next week Sherrie had her breast removed. The cancerous cells had spread beyond the biopsy area. This was the beginning of several months of healing, chemo therapy and trying to get her life back to somewhat normal.

We had a tournament on the Ohio River at Paducah, KY that fall. Sherrie came and fished. She was checking the prop on her boat and asked if mine was tight. “I don’t know I guess so”. It was loose. Boy did she ever fuss. “You are going to get up that river and lose your prop. You know how that swift current will loosen it!” Once again she pulls out her tool bag and block of wood just for the job of tightening loose props. (I now have a block of wood in my tool bag). After the tournament, she and Mary traveled back to Louisiana where she began her chemo treatments.

Sherrie’s health didn’t hold up long enough for her to ever fish the WBT. She fished the first tournament on Neely Henry where she cashed a check after being off the water for many months. She fished Lake Lewisville but her health was failing her there. She was in constant pain during the tournament and returned home to learn that the cancer had spread to her bones. There is no doubt in my mind if Sherrie Brubaker’s health had been good the first two years of the WBT, she would have been in the top six cut many times and I feel pretty sure her name would have been in the top twelve list to go to the Classic both years of the WBT.

This trip to West Lake was to say good bye to a friend. It was at the visitation that Mary and I met some of the people who grew up with Sherrie in West Lake, Louisiana. We learned of how they moved from Tilden, Illinois to West Lake when Sherrie and Melanie were young girls. Their father owned a carnival and would often times set up rides for Melanie, Sherrie and their friends. We met some of her high school teammates (Liz and Lacy) from their basketball team that went to the State High School Tournament. You could see the pain from the loss of an old friend in their faces and in their voices as they told of Sherrie and some of their fun times growing up; her insatiable drive in their games, her determination to win, how they would show up for games with their make up, hair, and ready for everything but ball. Sherrie would tell them, “you guys don’t need all of that to play ball, we came to win a ball game, not a beauty pageant”!

There, we also learned why she seemed to have the knowledge to fix anything from a broken axle on a boat trailer in the middle of the night to a motel air conditioner. Her Dad, Gene McQuater, had her driving a tractor-trailer rig when she was only fifteen. From this, she learned the benefits of hard work and the knowledge to fix just about anything.