When I first met Glen, he was a truck driver living at the Cross Bow apartments. I would hear him cock his pistol before answering the door. “Put the canon away,” I would say though the door, “it’s only me.”
One of the most difficult things that I would ever have to do concerning Glen, would be to guess his height. From the first days that I met Glen, he always joked about being short. He said of Randy Newman’s song ‘Short People’, “boy, he really gets down on us in that song.” In time I would come to learn his humor and the short jokes never stopped. For thirty years he kidded himself about being short. Funny thing was, I’m 6’03” and never saw him as short.
He was the most self made, self sufficient, and self taught person, with an unflappable sense of logic, that I ever met. I could ask Glen about anything, and he would have some knowledge. And that is not counting hunting, fishing, and guns, as I never had that much an interest in them.
When answering machines first started, his message stated, “White Knights, Heros, Incorporated.” And that is what he was. My respect for Glen is immense. Back in the 80’s with my ponytail and van, we went to see his dad to fix a rocker arm cover that needed welding. I was half terrified to meet Mr. Hausinger. This was the man that created Glen. I figured him to be a bolt chewing Marine drill sergeant. And here I was this tall lanky hippie. What I met, was a kind man that was happy to help.
I know of no one who was tested in life like Glen was. If he had written a book, no one would have believed so much could happen to one person. I don’t know how he did it. He weathered all the storms of fate, and never expressed anything as a victim.
How does a guy that does not smoke, drink, do drugs, or even swear, who worked hard, and would do anything to protect his family, get divorced? Then, he had to go through years of the corrupt judicial system in Houston, losing everything that he owned, to fight for joint custody. With each phone call we had, I was more and more shocked and appalled at what he had been going through. I was amazed at how he taught himself law by going to the library, in order to fight the judges and lawyers.
I remember him asking me about what was a good camera to buy. A couple years later he had a successful photography profession, and knew everything about cameras, developing, and printing. Later in life he would self teach him self about computers and start a third profession. Always like it was easy.
Only Glen, while sitting in traffic, playing with a new pair of binoculars would observe a curbside rose salesman selling drugs in a discrete way to special customers. Only Glen would be on a deer lease and observe goods and weapons being smuggled into the country across the Rio Grande, and notify the authorities. He also witnessed some sort of crime in the streets of Houston at 5:00 AM and called the Houston Police Department. (I should have taken notes of our phone calls, as I don’t remember the details) Only Glen could be rear ended at a stoplight, and sprint from his car calculating that it might be a car jacking, as was common during that time, usually leaving the driver dead. It turned out to be a drunk woman. Only Glen could have his car struck by lightning while helping a friend’s mother with her computer.
Every one of our phone calls was another unbelievable chapter of his life. I gave up long ago wondering, “What would I have done in the situation?” I never would have handled it as well as he did.
I saw his heart break with the loss of Chance. How could one man have to go through so much? How could one man be there for so many others, and never ask for anything in return. When he told me of his congestive heart failure, and that the doctors saying he might only have a couple years to live, it seemed impossible to believe. After the phone call, my wife, who has been an ICU nurse for 20 years, reassured me that there were many people living with congestive heart failure well into their 60’s and 70’s.
I didn’t think that anything could take Glen down. He died less than two weeks later. I was in stunned disbelief. I thought that he would always be there to call.
Now, I picture him in heaven, working on the door opener of the pearly gates. Helping new arrivals find their way around. Cracking jokes about his short wings.
I guess that there must be a lot of stuff that needs a-fixing up there.
Glen is seen here shooting with us on a trip to Chambers County. This is but another trip with his photo buddies. Many of you know that one had to be a little sneaky to get a photo of Glen. He did not like having his picture taken very much. I am so glad to see all of the images of his life and how he touched so many. You showed us so much Glen. Luv ya man.
Glen and I are seen here at Anahauc National Wildlife Preserve. Glen was always interested in wildlife and he could spot things a mile away when the rest of us were looking to see where he pointed. Glen was a longtime member of the League City Photography Meetup Group where I first met him. He inspired me to get out and shoot and taught me so much about perhaps his favorite sport, photography. I cannot count the trips we made and the memories we shared. Thank you Glen for your friendship and all you gave our group and me.
As many of you know, Glen loved the outdoors, and loved to teach everyone about his love of fishing. We had several fishing trips with Glen, the Zamora and the Hebert children all loved the stories and his company. I have uploaded a few from those trips in the Gallery and here is one of him getting a new pole ready for the kids to fish. We will all miss you!
Have a suggestion for us?