This past week, the Angler Action Foundation and the wider conservation landscape lost someone special- Brett Fitzgerald was his name.
You may have known him as the executive director of the AAF, but knowing Brett there are dozens of other descriptors that he’d rather be known for. Father, husband, friend, passionate angler, veteran, aspiring brewmaster, Bills fan, the list could honestly fill up this entire page. It’s rare for someone to leave a big impact on one little corner of the world, but Brett made it look easy, and he seemed to do it everywhere he went. I sure hope a small part of him knew just how special he was to so many people.
I’ve known Brett for years, but his story began way back in Upstate New York. Here, he cultivated an insatiable curiosity for anything involving the ebb and flow of life- something he would carry for the remainder of his time with us.
I’d consider this curiosity a core trait of Brett, and one that helped him become the man that we all loved. As someone who looked to him for guidance, his appetite for knowledge was reassuring. It let me know that no matter what you know, or how good you are at your job, there’s still more to learn each and every step of the way.
As Brett entered early adulthood, he made the decision to enlist in the army- a decision that would alter the course of his life. As formative as these years were for Brett, he never lost sight of his passion for the natural world; I can only imagine that he took every opportunity he could to explore these unfamiliar areas while overseas, in the breaks between his duties as a Morse code interceptor, and later as a paratrooper. 
Basic training is where he met my dad, and they remained inseparable for the next decade of their lives. They were so close, that toward the end of their service they made the decision to follow each other to college, and put that GI Bill to good use. How did they make such a big decision, you may ask? As any twenty-something would, they put a lot of time and effort in, researched, weighed pro’s and con’s, and thought hard about job markets and future opportunities.
My apologies- I was talking about your average young adult. This is Brett Fitzgerald we’re talking about! Naturally, they decided to just draw a school out of a hat, and follow through wherever that may have been. They ended up taking their talents to the University of South Florida.
Fate is tricky. At times, it seems completely random, but I like to think that there are reasons for everything working out the way they do. That simple choice to move to Florida on a whim was probably responsible for over $10 million in seagrass restoration projects all over our state, though it took a couple decades for those to come to fruition.
At USF, Brett spent his time taking classes and doing a variety of odd jobs, but still had time to explore the bay. You’d often be able to find him at Fort De Soto, the area surrounding the Howard Franklin bridge, and all around Clearwater. His favorite place to go was “The Original Spot”, but that’s all the information you’ll get out of me. Even decades later, he was always willing to give tips and tricks at each of his old fishin' holes, which made the people around him better anglers. All you needed to do was give him the wind and the tide, and he’d rattle off the perfect tackle and technique to use. I found him to be correct almost every single time I followed his advice.
After graduating, Brett moved across the state, and settled in Lake Worth. Here he was able to start a family, and a full time job as a speech pathologist. Around the same time, he cut his teeth on the tournament column for Florida Sportsman. With time, they trusted him with more exciting stories, which allowed him to hone his skills as a writer. Brett had a gift for digesting an immense amount of knowledge, distilling it down into only the most important details, then rebuilding it into a piece that read like a conversation from an old friend. These skills eventually led him to write Snook (Sportsman's Best), a veritable one stop shop for any of you voracious snook anglers looking to gain an edge over these crafty fish.
Speaking of snook, Bretts time with Florida Sportsman caught the eye of a Florida based nonprofit called the Snook & Gamefish foundation. Though it was later renamed the Angler Action Foundation, this original moniker for our organization couldn't have been a more perfect pairing for its future leader. Brett was always enamored by the humble snook. He loved everything from the biology behind their appearance, to their cunning nature, and the exhilarating fight they put up when hooked. Most of all, Brett respected their importance as an indicator species, or one whose health directly mirrors the health of the ecosystem that they inhabit- if the snook are doing well, you know their habitat is doing well too.
Brett's impact on Florida fisheries needs no introduction. He led the AAF with integrity, and embodied our core pillars every step of the way. Education was at the top of those pillars. The way he explained it to me, we can only do so much as people who work in the industry. We can do everything in our power to preserve these fisheries, but it won’t amount to much if we don’t get the wider public to care about it. Believe me, the man practiced what he preached. If Brett Fitzgerald hasn’t tried inviting you to get out and go fishing, you must not have spoken to him for more than a couple minutes.
Seagrass was Bretts passion project for the final few years that we worked together. In his eyes, it was the most tangible way that we could see our impact as an organization on habitats around the state. Brett, a lifelong angler, knew the importance of giving these juvenile fish populations a place to grow up. If not for seagrass, coral reefs, and other types of structure, predators would likely snatch up too many of them for a healthy ecosystem. They wouldn’t reach maturity, wouldn’t contribute to the future of their own populations, and anglers like you and I wouldn’t be able to pull 25” gator trout with as much regularity as we’re currently able to.
Speaking to fishing clubs, supporting legislation that helps improve the way we regulate fisheries, running across the state for site visits. All these, and much more, were just a typical day in the life of Brett Fitzgerald. He lived and breathed conservation, but as mentioned above, he shouldn’t be known solely for his work.
Without a doubt, Brett viewed his time spent as a father to Ava and Liam as the single greatest thing he ever accomplished. Any time we spoke, he couldn't wait until the conversation steered toward our personal lives; it gave him the chance to brag up Ava, and whatever incredible photo shoot she was being whisked away to, or Liam, and his burgeoning career in finance. You could physically see how much he loved them by the way his eyes lit up at the mere mention of what was new in their lives. He was so incredibly proud of the people that they grew, and are still growing, to be.
When Brett wasn't running across the state for one of his many projects, he lived a pretty quiet life alongside his best friend and wife, Megan. He looked forward spending all of life's little moments with her- you know the ones i'm talking about. Waking up early to throw on some coffee and pick up tortillas from a little hole in the wall for
breakfast, or taking family walks with the dog, or even just throwing an old record on to their sound system and basking in good vibes for an afternoon- doing these with someone he loved allowed for a great deal of satisfaction with the life he lived. Though times are difficult right now, these memories will forever serve as a reminder that some people are meant to find each other, if for nothing else but to share life's greatest joys.
Our friend Brett was an extraordinary man. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the spotlight if he were here today, but people need to know about the type of person he was. Our friend Brett cared about the results of his efforts, often giving the credit to others even though he deserved the lions share of it. Our friend Brett was there to listen to your problems, and comfort you without feeling the need to tell you how to handle them. Our friend Brett is still here, carried forward by the echoes of the choices he made during a lifetime of selfless acts.
Man, I’ll sure miss our friend Brett, though I know he’s happy and at peace. Nobody knows what lies beyond our time here, but the cliche paints pictures of those who passed sipping cocktails on a beach and surrounded by loved ones. Being surrounded by family and friends sure sounds nice, but that first part doesn't seem to be Brett's speed. I like to imagine him knee deep in some backwater canal, sticky with sweat, a fishing rod in one hand and some ice cold St. Bernardus in his backpack. He wouldn't have it any other way.