Glynn Allen Owens was born September 21, 1973 in McAllen, Texas and made an untimely departure from this world on April 2, 2003. He leaves behind his dear Christine Winston, his mother, Nevie (Cissy) Smucker with her husband, Ralph, his father Michael Owens, and his sister Nevie Owens; as well as his grandparents, Jack Allen and Martha Whetsel, and Norman Glynn Owens. He was preceded in death by his paternal grandmother, Mary Lou Owens. He also leaves behind his special friends, his dog, Gutherie, and the kitties.

Glynn was an eighth grade history teacher at Kealing Junior High School in Austin. He will be missed by his students whom he taught and inspired over the last five years as well as by his fellow teachers and administrators at Kealing. He was loving and caring as well as an inspirational presence to those who attended his classes. His influence and spirit will continue on through them for years to come.

Glynn enjoyed playing his drums and guitars. Those who heard him were inspired by the quality and spirit of his music.

He also took great delight in pleasing many friends and family with his enthusiasm for cooking. Many persons were delighted by an invitation to Glynn's home for a porterhouse, or a low-key barbeque.

Glynn's untimely passing caused by pneumonia and spinal meningitis has brought out an outpouring of sympathy and support to the family from many friends and students. The family wishes to thank each one who has expressed comforting and heart warming encouragement during this difficult time. They also wish to thank the doctors and most loving nurses and staff at Seton Hospital.

His death has permitted the family to make it possible to donate his organs so that five other persons may have life. He shall be able to live on through them.

The family will receive visitation at Weed-Corley-Fish Funeral Home on North Lamar from 6:00-8:00 PM on Friday evening. Memorial Services will be held at the St. Stephens School Chapel on Capital of Texas Hwy at 1:00 PM on Saturday.

Glynn is a graduate of St. Stephens High School, and earned a BA in history and a masters degree in education at Trinity University.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the Glynn Allen Owens Foundation for Educational Scholarships and sent to:
Texas State Bank
3900 North Tenth Street
McAllen, TX 78501

Arrangements by Weed-Corley- Fish Funeral Home, 3125 N. Lamar, Austin, TX 78705 - (512) 452-8811

Concert

On the evening of Saturday, May 3rd, Glynn's friends Jimmy McArthur, Alex Chiba, and a host of others put on a memorial concert for a packed house at Steamboat here in Austin. All proceeds went to the Glynn Owens Foundation for Educational Scholarships.

Noisetet Obscure, an instrumental group that includes Glynn's drum teacher, opened the show and mesmerized the crowd with their blend of saxophone, drums, bass, experimental instruments, and digital samples, starting and ending their performance with haunting saxophone riffs on Amazing Grace.

Evergreen, a popular band at Trinity that Glynn enjoyed, reunited after five years to rock the house with their fabulous originals and a raucous Rolling Stones cover from Exile on Main Street, in honor of Glynn.

Bill Jerram, a friend and jam session collaborator of Glynn's, took the stage with his band and kept the crowd on their feet and screaming with his original rock songs and a sublime cover of the Rolling Stones classic "No Expectations."

Jetsuns, featuring Lee Allen (another friend of Glynn's) on bass, wowed the crowed with sizzling space rock songs, written by guitar player and vocalist Jeremy McCord, and an out-of-this-world video montage.

In a surprise appearance, a friend of Glynn's from Trinity came up on stage and performed a perfect acoustic rendition of the Schoolhouse Rock classic No More Kings, in honor of Glynn's love of American history.

Finally, Oscar-nominee and indie favorite Elliott Smith performed an acoustic set to an overpacked house. This concert was the Los Angeles-based musician's first appearance in Texas in over two years, and his fans were out in force, singing along with the man that Rolling Stone called "the very model of a modern oho troubadour."

Many thanks are due to the bands for donating their talent, Steamboat for providing the venue, all of the organizers whose hard work brought it all together, and everyone who showed up and helped make this benefit such an unqualified success.

Have pictures, video, or recordings of the concert? Please send them to me!

I believe, as many do, that you come to know a man by those he surrounds himself with. I knew most of Glynn's friends, but did not have the pleasure of meeting his family until this week. As I spent this time with them I started to understand how he became the person that he was. You can easily see Glynn in his mother's love and compassion, in his grandfather and grandmother's strength, his father's good nature, and in his sister's sense of humor. These traits truly define the person that we all came to know and love through his teaching or through his friendship. I only wish I had come to know you all sooner.

Because I am up here, speaking on behalf of Glynn's friends, I think it's important for me to give you a little background on him. I first saw Glynn in August of 1991. His dorm room was directly across from mine and it was during the first Persian Gulf War. He hung an American flag and typically came out on his balcony in a smoking jacket smoking a pipe. I thought to myself - "what a dork". Little did I realize that he and I would be side by side in a fraternity pledge class doing the things that fraternity pledges do. (Just to be clear we both hated fraternities, but this seemed like a great way to have a social life at a boring school). The fraternity turned out to be full of dorks like Glynn and me, and resulted in many great friends - almost all of whom are here today.

Glynn managed a masters in education in 1997 and pursued his dream: Transforming America's youth into peace loving liberals. As the years passed, Austin became a happy, though inbred, hub of friends both new and old of which Glynn was a grand player. From the annual Christmas White Elephant party to the 4th of July parties where Glynn would recite the Declaration of Independence he was always ready to go the extra mile to ensure the entertainment and happiness of his friends. He brought together so many groups of great people who might otherwise have never met. His ability to unite is rooted in his unique gift to have a special and personal interface with each of his friends so that when you were with him you always felt like you were learning and teaching at the same time. Whether it was barbeque, music, baseball, arguments about history, or philosophy, he brought so many together, and we were united by our diversity and our common love for his dear Christine.

Glynn found in Christine a partner and a best friend. Someone who could soften his rough side and wake him from the floor of other's houses at the end of the night. They were a constant in all of our lives. He truly loved her and we all felt it.

Christine, this one's bigger than you. Lean on your friends and know that we all love you more than we can say.

I'd like to close with a final quote from Howard Zinn, Glynn's favorite historian. I find this very fitting, as we are in troubling times, and what greater act of optimism is there than to invest in our future through teaching? The world is poorer for Glynn's passing, but what he gave while here is more than most contribute in a lifetime.

"To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is base on the fact that human history is not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, and kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places-and there are so many-where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility to send this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. This future is an infitite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory."

It's such an honor to be asked to express these thoughts on behalf of Kealing. I've had the joy of teaching next door to Glynn for the past four years, and I don't know what we'll do without him. Glynn was not just a colleague; he was a collaborator, a mentor, an encourager, and he was a great friend to many of us. We got to see him every day, and we will miss him every day.

And there are so many things we will miss about Glynn. I remember a few years ago, he went through a phase where things were not just good - they were FABULOUS. We will miss his smile, his huge stride, the way he often clapped his hands when he laughed. Glynn was always the one I wanted to run tell a new joke I had just heard, or to laugh together at something silly a student had just done. And because we shared the same planning period, we started a tradition this year known as "Taco Tuesdays." And I learned from Glynn that Mi Madre's has the best carne guisada tacos on the face of the earth. And Glynn would want everybody to try one, so treat yourself to that.

Glynn was a friend to everybody at work. He was quick with a word of encouragement when anyone felt unappreciated. We depended on him. Some of us joked that Glynn was the patron saint of lost causes, and he wore his heart on his bumper. He had one bumper sticker on his car from the last election which was clearly against Bush. He had one that read "Light Rail Now," and yet another promoting the Green party. And after the last elections, Glynn started looking for a bumper sticker that just read, "Loser." I learned just this week that my favorite Glynn Owens bumper sticker was given to him by a very insightful student, and it reads, "Cleverly Disguised as a Responsible Adult."

Glynn was adored and respected by his students, and this past week the hospital was sometimes inundated with well-wishing students and former students. Glynn really found his niche in the classroom, and he has improved the lives of literally hundreds of students in his five years at Kealing. Jimmy just told us about his love of history extending beyond the classroom. He could really make everybody fall silent while he read the Declaration of Independence. And it's that love and respect for American history that's only part of what made him an excellent teacher. You may have guessed that Glynn earned the reputation of being one of the cool teachers. He played in a band, he loved peanut butter, he wore khaki pants and an untucked shirt every day. He was also a cool teacher because he was immensely approachable. He treated the kids with great respect, and because he knew that learning was always more important than grades, once this past fall, Mr. Owens was actually disappointed that he was studying for his history test instead of going to UT to hear a famous movie director give a speech. He knew that real learning often happened outside the classroom, and he encouraged the students to become involved. Just last month, he jokingly offered extra credit to any student to be arrested in a peace rally. I think that they've all been bailed out by now.

As you can imagine, it's been a really difficult week at school. We teachers have lost a great friend, and the students have lost an astonishing teacher. On Wednesday, while many students were grieving in the school library, I saw two boys sitting at a table with their heads lowered. As I walked up to them, I noticed that they were reading a book they had pulled off the library shelf. It was the Howard Zinn Reader. I could just head Glynn's voice saying, "FABULOUS."

Many of the students have written eloquently about the teacher they have just lost. I am going to share a few of those comments now. One student writes, "We'll never forget all of the things he taught us: Zinn, Locke, Payne, Freud, and most important, coffee." Another student writes, "We loved Mr. Owens because he respected us so much." Another one writes, "He was the best teacher I ever had. He taught me the important things that I will remember my whole life. He had a great sense of humor and never took himself too seriously. Maybe that's why he was such a great teacher." Two boys wrote this: "What can I say that will in any way convey the love, respect, and admiration I feel for this unassuming hero who was my teacher and mentor, the radical historian, the people-loving troublemaker, this man who stood with us and suffered with us. Glynn Owens was the best teacher I ever had." And in a letter to Glynn's girlfriend Christine, this student writes: "I know that you were aware of his vibrant personality, and the fact that he was caring. And I know that you know how good of a teacher he was, but still, I just feel like the whole world should know." I want to take just a moment, and I want the whole world to know. If you were a student, or a former student, would you just stand? I'd like his family to see what an impact he's made. Thank you all very much for being here. This is Glynn's legacy. I know that some of the students have even expressed an interest in teaching history some day. This student continues, "He could make the most seemingly boring things become magical. He made me work, he made me think, and he made me love doing it all. I believe that that is a true teacher - someone who helps others love learning. Regardless of whether I was slacking off or working hard, he treated me with respect. He was always helpful, and he had such good taste in music. It made me feel like I had a connection with him, and he was more like a friend that I looked up to or something. I know that Mr. Owens treated every one of his students equally, but even so, when we would talk, it was as if I was his favorite student, and I think it's safe to say that he made many of us feel that way. I have learned more about history and life in less than a year from Mr. Owens than from any other teacher. Given his sudden sickness, many of us were hoping for a miracle, but Mr. Owens was our miracle."

I felt it very important to have his memorial service here, because this is where we grew up and became adults. I used to sit in this row as a freshman, while Glynn sat in the senior section. I just didn't realize how much I loved my brother until I came here, because he became my big brother. He looked out for me in every way. When you're a freshman, you're down in mandatory study hall in what we called the pit. And I think I was his procrastination tool from his senior papers, but he would come, and poke in, and make faces at me.

I have so much I want to say; I wish I could plug you into my brain and show you this visual image of Glynn. He set the bar at being a big brother.

A former student came up to me yesterday and said that he taught more in five years than most do in thirty. And he taught me for twenty-six. The saddest part of this whole tragedy is I still had so much to learn from him. I was asked once one of those stupid questions: who would you take on a desert island? And I said Glynn, because he would know what to do. He had this knack of storing useless information in his brain. He was always the person you would want on your trivial pursuit team.

He loved to talk about anything. Glynn could talk for hours. Whether it was on the phone, or instant messaging, or just sitting down at the Crown and Anchor. It always seemed to end up to talk about movies, or music, or something. Growing up, we loved this movie called Red Dawn, and we would go out in the backyard and yell wolverines and play. But the only way I'd be allowed to play is if I was Lea Thompson with the rocket launcher.

During one of our last conversations, we were talking about the movie Gods and Generals, which I'm sure probably none of you have seen. For his love of history, he was excited to go, and I was willing to sit through that four hours of torture, because I knew our conversation afterwards would be amazing, and it would have made it all worthwhile.

Glynn was full of passion for so many things. And I believe he was passionate about me. He always wanted to know what I was doing, and what I was working on. He made it all sound important. We always talked about doing a project together, so I now have to do one in his memory.

All the doctors this week kept talking about this man, this man. He's not a man; he was my big brother. He would give me noogies and he would call me squirt. A dear friend of mine and I were talking about what love is. And this is what love is. This is what love looks like. Please keep Glynn in your hearts, and remember him. He brought so much good to this world. And the next time you hear the Rolling Stones, or watch Iron Chef, please think of Glynn, and hold him dear in your hearts.

I love you, Glynn.

I was here in this building once when Glynn Allen graduated from school here. Immediately afterward, they all went out front, and Glynn pulled a great big green... the biggest cigar I've ever seen out of that pocket, and smoked it. He had become a man. And Glynn grew from that. He grew to be great.

There's so much I could say. Let me just think for a few minutes about this week. For five days, most of the day, I sat in the waiting room at Seton Hospital. We cried, we prayed, and we remembered what people have always said: "Why do bad things happen to good people?" There's no answer. At night, I'd argue with God. "Why God? Why do you do this?" I wrestled with God all night long, like Jacob. The next morning, here we go again.

In the waiting room, children came. Teachers came. Fellow workers came. So many friends came. Even a member of his band came. Glynn started playing bass guitar in a band, but the drummer didn't suit him, didn't have the right rhythm, I understand. So he dropped out and took drum lessons. He was back in a band playing drums. And they loved him. Five pieces. But that was something he loved to do, like cooking. On the shelf in his classroom, he had that book, "Joy of Cooking." That was one of his textbooks.

And they loved him. They said he made history interesting and real. "He changed my life," they said. I believe he did. He changed my life.

I haven't given Glynn the credit that I should have. I talked to him; we didn't always agree about everything. We didn't get down to fisticuffs, but we argued. He was a great arguer. And sometimes Cissy would say, "Now, we're going to have dinner tonight and we're not going to talk about any of those things." And we didn't.

But we lost Glynn before they said he was dead. And I remembered Jesus and Lazarus. Why can't it happen again? Another miracle. God said, "Jack, I didn't promise you that bad things wouldn't happen. I don't get involved too much in the ways of life. I promised you that I'd give you enough strength and courage and faith to get through these times." I said, "God, then you better come and get close to me. I need you. I need you right now, I need you every day."

I used to play on the floor with Glynn and Nevie. I'd put my arms around them -- they were young then -- and I'd say, "I've got you in the Iron Bands." And they'd stuggle to get loose. And they would get loose. I guess I had been in the arms of God and I got loose, and He called me back. He wrapped me in His arms. "Tell me this will be alright."

You know, we gave Glynn's organs to five other people. And I just remember, trying to think, now when that young man or young lady wakes up with Glynn's heart, what a great start he has in life. What a great heart he has, and it'll live on. I think right now that Glynn is up there in heaven. He's looking down at us. I picture him being next to my Jackie, saying, "Look at those people down there." And he's probably looking at Christine, loving her. And loving all of us, everyone here.

And so he says, "Let me tell you one thing. This is what I want to leave with you. I want to talk to my friends, and you Jack, and to all my family. Let me tell you one thing -- it'll be great." And I must have said, "What is it, Glynn?" And he looked down, and said, "I want to tell you that I'm here, and I can tell you that the best is yet to come."

There is a three-letter word that has been used more than any time in recent history in this city. That word is "WHY?" Why did God let this happen? Why did it happen so fast that the medicine and everything else the doctors could throw at the disease not work? Why did a young man with so much potential have to have his life cut down so quickly? Why did we not have more notice so we could talk with him? Cissy said to me the other morning, "Tell me why." I said, We do not have an answer. The silence of God almost screams in our ears." Still we ask, "WHY, WHY, WHY!?"

...This is a dark day for all of us. In fact it is so dark that we can hardly see anything right now. When times are dark and hard it is natural for us to seek help from where ever we can find it. One of the places I like to find guidance is from the Holy Bible.

When you look at the basics of its message the Bible says there are two major influences in our world. One is Darkness and the other is Light.

...The definition of darkness is that which destroys us, which makes us fearful, which keeps us down, which hurts us.

The definition of light is that which liberates us, which helps us become what we were created to be, which empowers us to reach our potential. That's light.

...I find that the closer I get to the light of God in Christ, an inner glow that lights the way for me begins to develop when I need help to deal with the tough times in life, or when I need power to reach my dreams.

Today we are memorializing Glynn Owens. Glynn has inspired many of us with his dream for his students and for the divine profession of teaching young people. He has shared the light with many, many young as well as older people.

So, our challenge today…. how can we best memorialize Glynn's life?

...We wish we could all carry the torch for Glynn now that he is gone. Here is an alternative for you. Let each of us think of ONE dark place in our lives. It could be within us or it could be between ourselves and someone else, or we could think about the dark places between nations. What ever it is, let us, as a memorial to Glynn, decide to bring the inner glow of the light of God to that particular darkness in our world, and keep bringing it to that darkness till it is turned to light. Then we will have brought more meaning and purpose to the life that was cut so short. Then we'll will have honored Glynn Owens in a way that this History teacher, who actually tried to make sense of history for his students,---Yes, we will honor him by helping Glynn Owens make history. What greater honor can we cast upon him? He is making history in our world and now God has honored him by bringing him safely home to Himself.

Read the full text of Mr. Smucker's remarks.

Jack Humphrey, friend:

Glynn was one of my oldest friends; we met in 1987 when we were both part of a very small group of kids in the freshman boys dorm at St. Stephen's Episcopal School. The next year we were roommates. My friendship with Glynn wasn't like other friendships I've had before or since. We had a lot of fun together, and Glynn encouraged my love of music -- together with a few other freshman boarders, we formed a band called called "Mortimer and the Magic Markers." We watched out for each other, gave each other a hard time, got each other into trouble on a regular basis, and truthfully, sometimes couldn't stand each other. Through all that, I always felt the unspoken understanding that we'd always be friends. And to my shame, Glynn made more of an effort to keep that connection open than I did. In college, once a semester or so I would get that "Glynn call" out of the blue, and it would be as though we had just seen each other the day before. That always meant a lot to me. When we moved back to Austin at about the same time about six years ago, Glynn again was the one to reach out. We were different people than we had been 10 years before, but that never seemed to matter to Glynn. I was happy, but not really at all surprised, to find that Glynn had surrounded himself by a group of fun and dedicated friends during college and the years after. We mostly saw each other at the parties that we threw, but we always managed to end up finding some time to pull each other aside and catch up.

I was so proud to learn that Glynn had become a teacher. I wish I had told him that. It just seemed so right for him. He loved to teach -- now that I think about it, he was always giving me instruction, from the moment I first met him. He had a deep love for knowledge and a passion for sharing it. I imagined him as an unconvential and inspiring history teacher. Now that I hear stories about the lives of the students he touched, I learn that his accomplishments went even further than I had imagined. It breaks my heart to think of the years of future students who won't have "Mr. Owens" as their teacher and friend.

As any of his friends and loved ones will tell you, Glynn was true. It is as though his very spirit was incapable of falsehood. In some ways, I think of him as a brother, and I can't believe he's really gone. We all miss him tremendously but know that his spirit lives on.

Benjamin Hardee, former student (excerpted):

... no statement I can issue effectively embodies the full measure of his graciousness and the impeccable content of his character.

Thus it is impossible to adequately explain the extent to which Mr. Owens is needed, revered, missed, appreciated and loved–––in his family and close circle of friends and loved ones, amongst his students past and present, and in the establishment and institution of Kealing–––one he has for half a decade administered design and infrastructure, reputation and challenge. But understand he is.

...individuals like him who made Kealing what everyone who ever enjoyed a minute of their enlightenment and challenge in it loved about it. It is people of his caliber–––rare though they be–––who made the monotonies of the treacherous, average school day perpetually tolerable, and when sick or forced to miss class or school, as equally desirable and savored. The notion and knowledge that at the end of the day, for a few brief minutes in the year, as not his student or aide, but friend and companion, I would be able to see and speak with Mr. Owens, grade papers with him, advise him on course curricula, receive an intellectual makeover in a discussion with him, or just sit back and enjoy his uplifting presence, for me made the notion of Kealing, in the entirety of its challenge, glory, and integrity what it truly was and is: a stimulating, intellectual sanctuary in the midst of a smoldering, barren crater of academic fallacy in the public education system. Mr. Owens means what he does to me in part as a man and social individual, but first and foremost as a caring mentor and intellectual challenge, companion and friend.

...you could not find one student he had dealt with on any occasion or taught who did not not like him.

...he held no grudges.

...he was ultimately, fully and extraordinarily inspiring.

...he was unconditionally kind and tolerant.

...a former student claims to have once caught him standing on his desk dancing and singing along to a recording of "The Dancing Queen."

...he has always denied that.

...he wanted the best for each of his students, and did his best to secure his noble goal and warm hope for each he ever taught.

...he in himself was more so a sought-after end, instead of an employed mean, in learning history and acquiring knowledge of the humanities and life.

...he was one of the few and most important people who ever made a real difference in my life and my personal and intellectual fruition as a human being.

...Glynn Allen Owens will never be forgotten. And to no conveyable degree, he will be missed and celebrated for the kind of incredible man he was.

But more than anything else Mr. Owens' family can be is proud–––of their son and grandson, brother, boyfriend, nephew, cousin, and generically, loved one–––for that which he has had the sheer skill, will, personality, and divine sanction to accomplish in five years what most teachers fail to in thirty.

...I knew Mr. Owens wanted to read, write, learn, and convey history, but as for whether or not he ever wanted to make it is an uncertain prospect. But in his new life I feel he will take due pride in the absolute fact he did; in the lives of hundreds of students it was engraved with day after day after day of his unwavering presence and determination to allow and entice them to aspire to their greatest attainable heights. They are his surviving legacy, and they will enter unto the larger world and make their mark; on the same, Mr. Owens will thus make his in and through theirs.

Read the full text of Benjamin's tribute.

As a musician, one of my earliest memories of my time at Trinity University involves Glynn. In the fall of 1991, I was invited to a jam session that would later lead to the formation of Sexy Grandpa, a group I would characterize as Trinity's early 1990s answer to Sly & the Family Stone. Now, imagine a dorm room crammed with four horn players, a guitarist, and a bass player with an incredibly large amplifier. Oh, and did I mention one of those four horns was a tuba? When Glynn found out my friend Frank Birchak played tuba, and I played saxophone, he invited us over. "Bring the tuba!" he insisted.

The tuba never did work in a funk band, but it wasn't for lack of trying. That's one of the things that I remember most about playing music with Glynn. He was free and open to many ideas. That's not to say Glynn wasn't a disciplined player. On the contrary, I remember him as a perfectionist in rehearsals! He would sometimes get frustrated, or argue a musical point with one group member or another. But hard work pays off, and I think Sexy Grandpa got to be a great little group, as evidenced by the musical examples available for download on this page. Glynn was one heck of a bass player.

Later on, after Sexy Grandpa folded, Glynn went on to play bass for Some Other Jackson, and I continued to play sax and guitar with my own group, the Stray Toasters. But we would still play music together, and our groups sometimes shared the bill at local clubs. Glynn often invited me to sit in with Some Other Jackson, which I enjoyed, and I would invite him to get down with some freaky-free-jazz with the Stray Toasters, which he enjoyed.

Once given a musical project, Glynn was ready to follow through, no matter who was handing out the assignment. I was witness to that when Glynn learned nearly all the bass parts for a planned production of "Jesus Christ Superstar" I wanted to stage at Trinity (alas, it never came to pass). And as he was leaving San Antonio for Austin, Glynn was telling me about his own personal assignment to himself to learn the drums, and we stayed in touch via email about our various musical endeavors.

I knew first hand of Glynn's great bass playing, but I'm sad I never got to play with him as my drummer. Glynn had rhythm, and soul, and he was a lot of fun to play with. And that carried over into his life, too. He was a heck of a bass player, and I have no doubt that he was a fabulous drummer. He was, of course, also a great guy, one of the nicest I've ever known. I will miss his music, and I will miss him.

Bilal Hassan, Kealing Junior High, 8th Grader:

I was just reading the school newspaper when I found an article about Mr. Owens. All the memories of Mr. Owens came back into my mind and reminded me of him again. I was a student of Mr. Owens. I just met him in September and got such a good relationship with him and found the best teacher in Kealing. I always liked the tall man wearing his green shirt and a cup of coffee in his hand.

I was only having my advisory with him for 20 minutes but I learned a lot from him in 20 minutes everyday. I can say that he was the man of PEACE. He was the best teacher I had in my life. He was so polite, humble and soft speaker with everybody. I can still remember that day when I reached the school and was very anxious to ask any teacher about Mr. Owens and was hoping to hear any miracle but I think he was a miracle himself. I always miss him whenever I see any cooking show or a jar of peanut butter. I did my best to do everything possible for myself and everyone in the school. I won't be able to forget him in my whole life.

May his soul rest in Peace !!

"Glynn-isms"
Compiled by Chris Deneen

On Florida:
FLORIDA IS SINKING!!! FLORIDA IS SINKING!!!! WHOOOOOOOOO!!!

On Politics:
When looking across our political spectrum, sometimes it's democrats I like the least.

On women:
Don't let 'em boss you around. Next thing you know, they'll want to go a on a date or something.

On Federally issued ID's:
The real problem with a Federal ID card system is that there will me one more thing in my wallet. The human ass can only take so much.

Glynn Owens, master of the subtle double entendre:
Governor Jeb Bush of Florida asked members of a Pentecostal church to pray for his daughter Noelle, who has been arrested recently on drug charges. "Every time I think about my daughter," he said, "it's very hard."

A final quote Glynn shared. I find this very fitting, as we are in troubling times, and what greater act of optimism is there than to invest in our future thought teaching? The world is poorer for Glynn's passing, but what he gave while here is more than most contribute in a life time.

"To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, and kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places--and there are so many--where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of send this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. This future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory." --Howard Zinn

Glynn's "Happy Hour Manifesto"
Email sent Friday, January 26, 2001 5:16 PM

Corporate culture sucks.  Here I am at home for over
two hours and you people still have no discernable
intention of consuming frosty malted adult beverages. 
Do you see what the damn bottom line does to people. 
I think there needs to be some serious changes made in
the way companies treat people.  Its just not right to
still be at work at 5:00 on a Friday.  Friday happy
hour is a basic human right.  I hear it is up for
discussion at the U.N.  Well let me tell you people,
it just isn't going to happen unless you do something
about it.  You think the man is going to just waltz in
an release you from your tired post where you have
been alienated from you labor from the last five days
on end?  No! Not if he thinks he can squeeze another
drop of sweat from your brows.  You people need to
rise up, take what is yours.  "Liberties are not
given; they are taken."  I bet if you were to look
over at the man sitting there you'd see he's done less
today than you have all week.  Don't let yourself get
pushed around.  He needs you more than you need him. 
Remember you can fool some people sometime, but you
can't fool all the people all the time.  So see the
light.  Take what has been coming to you all week. 

There oughta be a law.

Glynn's Music

Poor Man's Habit (drummer, 2002):

Crashing To The Ground [mp3, 4.2 MB, 4:33]
Trouble Knocking [mp3, 4.9 MB, 5:23]
Get It Right [mp3, 5.3 MB, 5:48]

Sexy Grandpa (bass player, c. 1991):
"Andrew" [mp3, 3.9 MB, 4:18]
"Ted" [mp3, 3.8 MB, 4:08]
If You Want Me To Stay (Live at Wacky's) [mp3, 3.5 MB, 3:48]