Fred Eckhardt, 1926-2015

The news came out last night that Fred Eckhardt had passed away after 89 amazing, vivid years of life. He was a Marine and World War II veteran, swimming teacher, Buddhist, sake promoter, and of course, "the dean of American beer writers." He was, until perhaps his 84th year of life or so, a constant presence at beer events around the city--many of which may not have existed had he not been an early advocate of a beverage too humble and ordinary for others to notice.

Sometime today, John Foyston is going to post a full, worthy treatment of Fred's life. In the meantime, I just wanted to offer my voice to the chorus. Fred was so important to this city and the beer culture that has emerged here--we can't thank him enough. He lived what looked to be a wonderfully rich, fascinating life, and so we should celebrate even as we mourn.

Fred was a larger-than-life figure who was also wholly accessible. He was a titan of the beer world, particularly here in Portland, where he had been writing on the subject for decades. There was scarcely a homebrew competition he hadn’t judged or festival he hadn’t attended, and he was the writer who documented and authenticated the birth of craft beer in Oregon (and the Northwest). And it was his ubiquity that made him so accessible. Anyone could approach him and bend his ear—and he loved it when they did. Toward the end of his life, people were more reluctant to do so because his stature had grown so much.

His life contained a series of amazing facts, any one of which might have been enough to make a mark. He was a marine and veteran of both WWII and Korea. He wrote the first serious homebrew book and helped nurture the interest in beer that would eventually inspire the American brewing revival. He was a friend and advisor to the early brewers, dear enough to Alan Sprints to become the namesake of Hair of the Dog’s flagship hoppy ale. As was typical of members of the Greatest Generation, Fred didn’t talk a lot about his private life, so many didn’t know he was a Zen Buddhist or that his life partner was a man.

I have a special connection to Fred, being one of the many Portland beer writers who came along after him. We all wrote in his shadow, feeling like what we did bore only a small resemblance to what he had accomplished. Many people wondered who would become the “next Michael Jackson” when that great English writer passed in 2007. Oregonians didn’t ask that question: we had Fred. Who needed another Jackson? I guarantee no one will ask who will be the next Fred, either. He was so singular, his legacy so much larger than his writing, that he can never be replaced. As a Portlander and a writer, I can only express how happy I was to know Fred, to live in the Portland he helped create.

Here's a final cheers to you, Fred--

Update: Here's that John Foyston remembrance we were hoping to see.