Glen is one of the guys I was hoping to run into at the reunion. Ah, regret.
Like so many of my friends, we met through ROTC. Glen was a transplant from Chicago, where he attended an all-boys' public high school of nearly 5,000 students. Bigger than Millikan! You had to be different to be noticed, strong to be accepted. I think he brought some of that Chicago with him, not including just a bit of a midwest accent. One evening or weekend he came by my house; Dad was home. Whether Glen there because he dropped me off after an ROTC activity, or to reassure my Dad that the party he was throwing was truly going to be alcohol-free, I don't recall. But when he said he was from Chicago -- Glen had a way of saying it; Shi-CAG-oh, like drag or slag or stag. Or like Dad.
Dad kept a straight face, repeating the word, but I could tell he was amused, and he mentioned it later.
As far as I knew, the party WAS alcohol-free.
Glen maybe felt a bit Napoleonic, being shorter than average, and maybe Chi-CAG-oh teens were a bit more domineering over others than I noticed in Long Beach. So Glen had one of the early moustaches, worked on keeping his voice deep, showed some swagger, worked on his "military bearing" for ROTC, trained hard at shooting and drill team; was a founder of our not-so-successful drum and bugle team. When I see those old WWII military logos with an angry Donald-Ducky character in profile, garrison cap tilted down, cigar clamped in the side of his mouth, I think of Glen Jordan.
Not that he was cartoonish. He was memorable. He was self-concious. He was always trying to impress, to be his best.
We all need a little (sorry; "a bit of") Glen Jordan in our memories. Thanks, buddy.
Steve Rumsey
Glen was a good buddy. Served in the National Guard with him. Will miss his "alive" personality.
Bob Vanderheiden
Glen is one of the guys I was hoping to run into at the reunion. Ah, regret.
Like so many of my friends, we met through ROTC. Glen was a transplant from Chicago, where he attended an all-boys' public high school of nearly 5,000 students. Bigger than Millikan! You had to be different to be noticed, strong to be accepted. I think he brought some of that Chicago with him, not including just a bit of a midwest accent. One evening or weekend he came by my house; Dad was home. Whether Glen there because he dropped me off after an ROTC activity, or to reassure my Dad that the party he was throwing was truly going to be alcohol-free, I don't recall. But when he said he was from Chicago -- Glen had a way of saying it; Shi-CAG-oh, like drag or slag or stag. Or like Dad.
Dad kept a straight face, repeating the word, but I could tell he was amused, and he mentioned it later.
As far as I knew, the party WAS alcohol-free.
Glen maybe felt a bit Napoleonic, being shorter than average, and maybe Chi-CAG-oh teens were a bit more domineering over others than I noticed in Long Beach. So Glen had one of the early moustaches, worked on keeping his voice deep, showed some swagger, worked on his "military bearing" for ROTC, trained hard at shooting and drill team; was a founder of our not-so-successful drum and bugle team. When I see those old WWII military logos with an angry Donald-Ducky character in profile, garrison cap tilted down, cigar clamped in the side of his mouth, I think of Glen Jordan.
Not that he was cartoonish. He was memorable. He was self-concious. He was always trying to impress, to be his best.
We all need a little (sorry; "a bit of") Glen Jordan in our memories. Thanks, buddy.