Sunday, June 15, 2008
Still reeling in the business
Brian Thompson repairs fishing tackle in a shop first opened by his father.

JUSTIN COOK The Roanoke Times
Brian Thompson, proprietor and sole employee of Thompson Reel Service, repairs fishing reels at his home in Christiansburg. Thompson's late father, Louis, started the business in 1994 as a way to keep busy in retirement.
Thompson’s Reel Service
- Where: 1771 Radford Road, Christiansburg
- Hours: After5 p.m. Monday through Friday, all day Saturday, closed Sunday Contact: 382-5622 or 998-9415
- Rates: $14 plus parts for reel service, $4 plus parts to put guides on rods, customized rods available by quote. Rods and reels for sale (left-handed reels available) in addition to repair service.
CHRISTIANSBURG -- A great many Americans have to look outside the workplace for serenity. Brian Thompson actually finds it in his second job.
An industrial equipment repairman at the Radford Army Ammunition Plant during the day, he repairs fishing rods and reels in the evenings as the proprietor and sole employee of Thompson Reel Service.
Thompson's late father, Louis, started the business in 1994 as a way to keep busy in retirement. Brian Thompson would come over whenever he could to help out, concentrating mostly on rod repair while his dad worked on reels. The two would spend hours together in their basement shop breaking down old Zebcos or fixing broken Shimanos or refitting rods with new guides.
"He taught me all this," Thompson said. "He really loved to fish, and this business kept him happy."
It was only natural that after his father's death from cancer in 1999 that Thompson continue the family business.
"This helped me a lot in getting through those first tough years," he said. "I almost feel like he's still down here working with me at times."
The shop still operates out of the basement of a house originally owned by Thompson's grandparents. After returning from his day job, spending time with his family and eating supper, he heads for the basement to spend three to four hours tinkering with the work.
When you first set foot in the shop, it looks like a typical basement. You see a washer and dryer against the wall, stairs leading to the main part of the house and rack of jackets hung up. Beyond the jackets a quick look around reveals an impressive assortment of equipment and supplies.
"I can't begin to tell you how many reels I've got," Thompson said.
And they're everywhere. A glass case up front houses dozens of models for sale, along with two standing rod displays. On the wall are rows of shelves stocked with boxes loaded to the top with reels of every make and model. Across the way on another shelf sit reels from completed work orders. Beside that is a case of rare collectors reels that are not for sale. At his work space lies a disassembled Zebco baitcast reel and all of its inner workings, waiting to be cleaned, repaired and put back together.
"I mainly work on what I call freshwater reels, things like spinning reels and baitcast reels," Thompson said. "Occasionally I'll do some small saltwater and a few fly reels, but you won't see me working on those big saltwater ones that look like winches."
To accommodate the wide array of equipment he works on, Thompson keeps a reference library of manuals and schematics at arms reach. Need an exploded view of a 1969 Mitchell 510? First notebook on the top shelf. Need the part number for a pin in a 1996 Shimano Calcutta 50? No problem.
If he doesn't already have a particular reel's manual on hand, Thompson can easily download the information from the Internet. All his reels and spare parts are labeled according to factory standard for easy recognition.
The basement shop radiates old-school charm. On the back wall beyond the fishing equipment sit home-canned vegetables. You can hear the floorboards flex and creak as the people in the main house move around. The walls are decorated with fishing trophies, pictures, newspaper articles and other bits of memorabilia.
A table in the middle of the room acts as an enormous picture frame, filled with shots of anglers and their prized catches. Some of the pictures are of Thompson and his dad, but there are also pictures sent in by customers. His clients range from college students to competition fishermen to game wardens. Retailers such as John Zienius of Big Z's in Fairlawn regularly send him work as well.
"Big Z has always been super to me and sends me business all the time," Thompson said. "He's always joking that I need to move my business into his store."
Thompson doesn't take out ads and you won't find Thompson Reel Service on the Web. His promotional materials include business cards and a small white sign in front of his house. Yet through repeat business, word of mouth and referrals, Thompson has plenty of work coming in.
"My busiest times are in February and March as people get ready for the tournament season," he said. "Sometimes they'll bring in five or eight reels in one bag."
Thompson uses an old fashioned approach to handling that volume of business: first come, first served.
"I get to them in the order that they come in. That's just the fairest way to do it in my opinion. I may not turn them around as quick as Dad did, but true fishermen don't have just one fishing reel."
Still, with so few options available to fishermen with busted equipment, Thompson's service winds up being economical. Using him instead of sending the reels back to the factory avoids shipping costs and usually saves time. He does issue one caveat to those who may expect a quick turnaround.
"When the fish are biting, I'm going to fish, too."
If there is one lesson he learned from his dad and the business, it was to slow down and enjoy life. Attempting to rush the reassembly of a complicated reel can result in failure and frustration.
"Sometimes, I'll just get up and walk away from it for a little while," he said, echoing the sentiments his dad expressed in a Roanoke Times interview 10 years ago. "When I come back with a clear head everything just falls into place."
Thompson takes pride in carrying on his father's work and in doing so has found a healthy way to deal with his passing. In many ways, it's like he never left.











