Photos by Brent Broza (BrozaPhoto.com)
Jeff Browning stood at the mic, surrounded by family, and looking down from the second story deck of the Body Glove offices at a parking lot filled with his brother Greg’s friends.
“One of the most important things Greg believed in was showing up for people. Thank you for showing up,” Jeff said to the crowd. 
The gathering of an estimated 500 people at Body Glove’s Redondo offices followed an equally large gathering on the beach at 16th Street in Hermosa Beach for a paddleout in celebration of Greg Browning’s life. His wife, Carrie, who had held him when he took his last breaths at their home, released his ashes into the sea.
Browning learned to surf, and to film surfing at 16th Street. The former pro surfer, Hermosa Surfers Walk of Fame inductee, and filmmaker died last month from ALS, a week shy of his 50th birthday.
Jeff Browning prefaced his eulogy by laying down the ground rules for the speakers who would follow him.
“No sad shit,” he said.
When speakers veered off into the forbidden territory, shouts from the parking lot reminded them, “No sad shit.”
But the subject couldn’t be entirely avoided.
Former pro surfers Benji Weatherley and Donavon Frankenreiter were the Cheech and Chong of Browning’s Drive Thru surf videos.
Weatherley expressed his gratitude toward Greg for helping him to believe in himself, and to laugh at himself, and for welcoming him into the Browning family, and laughing at his fart jokes.
“Donavon should have died. Not Greg. Donavon is worthless. And there was never a better person than Greg,” Weatherley said.
Even the Brownings’ mother, Dinah, after a shaky start during which she briefly talked about the ungodly disease that took her son’s life, sought refuge in humor.
“Jeff was the first pancake. Not quite perfect. But I got it right with Greg,” she said. The audience laughed because Greg’s friends all knew Jeff as the tough, older brother.
“Jeff, and my older brother were dicks,” the Brownings’ childhood friend Sim Barhoum said. “Greg and I would hide in the doghouse to get away from them.”
Barhoum recalled the pride he, and their Hemosa friends felt when an early ‘90s Surfer magazine included Greg in its list of the 100 hottest surfers in California. Looking back, the college English teacher said he feels even greater pride in Greg for an editor’s note that appeared in the following issue of Surfer.
“The editor wrote he received a thank you letter from Greg, and that it was the only thank you letter he had ever received from a surfer he wrote about.”
Photographer Mike Balzer told a similar story. In 1991, Greg was a team rider for Body Glove and Balzer was the Body Glove photographer. On their first assignment together, at the Redondo Avenues, Balzer got a shot of Browning that earned a coveted place in the Surfer Magazine calendar.
Thereafter, Balzer said, “Greg would call every night to ask me to shoot in the morning, and if I didn’t answer the phone he’d go knock on my door, much to my wife’s annoyance.”
“One day I got a letter in the mail from Greg. It was a thank you note,” Balzer said. As was the case with the magazine editor, it was the first thank you note he had ever received from the thousands of surfers he had photographed.
Mark Cole, who co-emceed the memorial at Body Glove with 16th Street surfer Jani Lange, said he grew up on the periphery of Greg Browning’s wide surfers circle.
Cole’s first exposure to Browning was from watching him in Taylor Steele’s Momentum Generation surf videos.
“I remember going to get my hair cut at a family friend’s house and seeing wetsuits and boards drying in a front yard and thinking, Dude, I think the guy from the videos lives here. In our neighborhood.”
“Steele’s videos were the first to pair performance surfing with a punk rock soundtrack. Surfing and punk rock became defining elements of my generation,” Cole said.
“That combination catapulted the Momentum Generation to the forefront of surfing in the late ‘90s, pulling Greg, Spyder Surfboards, Pennywise, and many others from the South Bay along with them.
“As a grom growing up in the South Bay it felt like surf culture originated here.
“I even filmed a pseudo-documentary about an RV trip to Utah during my college days and named it ‘Drive-Thru Utah,’” Cole said.
Steele said he met Browning at the Molloy brothers’ house in Hawaii.
“Greg handed me a Pennywise tape, and said he thought it would be good in my films. He didn’t ask for anything in return. Greg was selfless, and always encouraging people,” Steele said.
The first Steele movie with a Pennywise soundtrack was the 1991 groundbreaking VHS release “Momentum.” Pennywise singer/writer Jim Lindberg frequently points to that film as the turning point in a career that has Pennywise still performing in stadiums around the world.
“I didn’t know it then. But Greg and I would become friends chasing the dream around the world together,” Steele said.
In addition to Weatherley, and Frankenreiter, other Momentum Generation surfers at Browning’s paddleout included Robb Machado, Taylor Knox, Keith Molloy, and Evan Slater.
Twin brothers Keith and Derek Brewer grew up surfing 16th Street with Browning.
“Greg was a skateboarder when Derek and I started surfing. But once he started surfing, he got good really fast. I remember thinking how did he do that, and realized it was because he’d eat shit if it meant getting barreled first.”
Derek Brewer asked Browning to video his wedding in the Maldives.
“The surf was pumping all week. I told Greg to stop filming and paddle out with us. He said he couldn’t. He had promised the captain he’d teach his daughter to surf on the little, inside break.
“If we all had a piece of Greg the world would be a better place,” Derek Brewer said.
Dickie O’Reilly was another 16th Street surfer who spoke at the memorial. He helped Browning edit his first surf film, “Hermosa 90254,” on Howard Eddy’s living room floor. Eddy was a retired Panasonic employee who lived on 16th Street, and had one of the first camcorders, which he’d loan the young 16th Street crew when he wasn’t videoing them himself.
“Greg and I shared an apartment. All the traveling pros would stay on our couch when they came through. Despite all the chaos, Greg never got flustered. Except when he started coaching his son Parker’s South High surf team. But 24 high school boys and girls will fluster anyone.
“I heard Greg’s laugh in a dream last night,” O’Reilly said.
Browning was working on a film about top ranked surfer Tatiana Weston-Webb when he was diagnosed with ALS in August, 2023.
In an interview shortly before his death, Browning said of the film, “I filmed her Drive Thru style. Celebrating our first year, in 2019, when she finished second in the world, and last year crying when she finished 10th.”
His former Body Glove colleagues, Scott Smith, and John DeTemple, helped him finish the film. Both marveled at Browning’s equanimity as his body failed him.
“He never let on about being down because of his condition,” Smith said.
“He made everyone around him better. He’d say, ‘Go crazy. I’ll rein you in if you go too far,’” DeTemple said.
They screened the film, “A Marble in the Jar,” for Weston-Webb, and her husband Jesse, at Smith’s home studio on March 25. Browning died just a few weeks later.
The film premiers on Friday, June 6 at the Hermosa Community Theater.
Browning’s two sons’ remarks at the memorial were brief and raw with emotions.
Drew, the oldest son, read from notes.
“Looking out at all of you today, I’m moved to tears, not from loss, but from witnessing the beautiful tapestry of relationships my father wove throughout his life.
“My dad wore many hats, with grace and dignity…. He excelled in every role, especially as a father. Though he won’t be here to be the amazing grandfather I know he would have been, I promise you, Dad, that your grandchild will grow up knowing exactly how extraordinary you were.”
Parker said he hadn’t written out what he wanted to say because he couldn’t.
He told of being with his brother at his dad’s side on his last day.
“We thanked him for being our dad. He asked, ‘Why are you thanking me? I did nothing for you guys. I did everything with you guys.’”
“I think that’s what he wanted all of you to know too,” Parker told the mourners, “that as lucky as you were to spend time with my dad, he felt just as lucky to spend time with you.”
“He told my brother and me the next chapter of our lives is going to be hard, but it’s going to be the best chapter. I can’t believe that now, but I think one day he’ll be right about that.”
Jeff Browning spoke long, his emotions were already spent.
“I know why so many of you are here today. Because Greg cared about you. You need a ride to the airport? A place to stay? You need a board? He’d give it to you. You need a sounding board? Greg was there, with genuine care.
“His credo was ‘Be cool to everybody.’”
Jeff recalled the moment Greg told him to stop being sad.
“When things started to get really hard, toward the end, I had this need to tell Greg again, how much he meant to me. I held it in for those two years. And this last time, I couldn’t say those things without tears streaming out of my eyes.
“When I was done, Greg looked up at me and said, ‘Okay. No more sad shit.’”
“I hope you all continue to share these stories, and strive for Gregness in your own lives,” Jeff told the mourners. “Be cool to everyone.
“That is how you can honor his memory.
“It’s as simple as that.”
