Mark Glaeser was my first school friend. We were both astronauts in the Kindergarten Halloween parade at Jefferson Elementary School, and we walked in the parade together, holding hands and waving little American flags.
We were in Boy Scouts together. Mark's dad was our troop leader. Mark was the consumate outdoorsman. He taught me how to fish, though he always had to bait my hook for me. I can still remember the sights, smells and sounds of being in a row boat with him at twilight on Bullhead Lake, where he spent most of his life.
I taught Mark how to write songs, and we collaborated on a few gems. Here's one of Mark's lyrics: "O submarine, go down into the deep blue sea, firing torpedoes at the boats, trying to escape the depth charges." Here's another keeper: "Bongo bongo ape. Bongo bongo ape. If you don't watch out for bongo ape, he'll make you his bongo mate." I have no idea what he was thinking with that one!
Mark walked past my house every morning in order to walk to Washington Junior High with me. He taught me my first string of dirty words, though it took me a while longer to catch up to him on knowing what they all meant. We didn't hang out much together in high school, but we ran cross country together, and the swim team was our point of continuous contact. I saw him once after college, and I'm so glad I got to meet his wife.
I was so worried when I heard of his first bout with cancer. But then I didn't hear anything for the longest time. I thought perhaps he was out of the woods. When he died, I stopped cold in my tracks. How I wished I had taken the time to find him out in Brillion on one of my annual trips back to Wisconsin. I still hope to meet his wife again, and his children someday so I can tell them about my fond memories of their dad, and what a good person he was from the beginning. Really. During the year after Mark's death, I saw Mark's father, Don Glaeser, at, of all places, my grandma's funeral. He was all smiles and we shared a rather joyful moment of recognition that we had both known is son deeply, he more intimately of course, but both of us in the way that knowing someone from childhood constitutes a deep knowing.
Cherishing a friend is such a good thing. I only wish I had known it continuously all along.
Wow, I hadn't heard that Mark had died. I remember his from the swim team. Good swimmer, good guy. Quiet, kind. Thanks Kevin for writing such nice recollections of Mark.
I still remember the day that Mark talked me into joining the LHS Swim Team - it turned-out to be a great experience for me. Mark was a much better swimmer than I was, but he was always very encouraging and positive in my efforts to improve.
In the years after HS, I used to run into him and his father when I went fishing at Bullhead Lake with my dad and my brother. It was nice to be able to "catch-up" with him, or to hear news about him once in a while.
I still remember being shocked when I heard about his first battle with Cancer, but was elated when it appeared that he had beaten it. I was totally shaken when I heard that it had come back, and had cut his life short.
I had no idea that Mark died. What a great guy... quiet but always thoughtful with a wry, dark sense of humor. Thanks, Kevin, for the vivid memories. I'd need a hypnotist to recall similar scenes from childhood. Nevertheless, I remember Mark from swim team and especially the good time we had together at the 10 year reunion.
Kevin Vogt
Mark Glaeser was my first school friend. We were both astronauts in the Kindergarten Halloween parade at Jefferson Elementary School, and we walked in the parade together, holding hands and waving little American flags.We were in Boy Scouts together. Mark's dad was our troop leader. Mark was the consumate outdoorsman. He taught me how to fish, though he always had to bait my hook for me. I can still remember the sights, smells and sounds of being in a row boat with him at twilight on Bullhead Lake, where he spent most of his life.
I taught Mark how to write songs, and we collaborated on a few gems. Here's one of Mark's lyrics: "O submarine, go down into the deep blue sea, firing torpedoes at the boats, trying to escape the depth charges." Here's another keeper: "Bongo bongo ape. Bongo bongo ape. If you don't watch out for bongo ape, he'll make you his bongo mate." I have no idea what he was thinking with that one!
Mark walked past my house every morning in order to walk to Washington Junior High with me. He taught me my first string of dirty words, though it took me a while longer to catch up to him on knowing what they all meant. We didn't hang out much together in high school, but we ran cross country together, and the swim team was our point of continuous contact. I saw him once after college, and I'm so glad I got to meet his wife.
I was so worried when I heard of his first bout with cancer. But then I didn't hear anything for the longest time. I thought perhaps he was out of the woods. When he died, I stopped cold in my tracks. How I wished I had taken the time to find him out in Brillion on one of my annual trips back to Wisconsin. I still hope to meet his wife again, and his children someday so I can tell them about my fond memories of their dad, and what a good person he was from the beginning. Really. During the year after Mark's death, I saw Mark's father, Don Glaeser, at, of all places, my grandma's funeral. He was all smiles and we shared a rather joyful moment of recognition that we had both known is son deeply, he more intimately of course, but both of us in the way that knowing someone from childhood constitutes a deep knowing.
Cherishing a friend is such a good thing. I only wish I had known it continuously all along.
Requiescat in pace.
Phillip Maples
Wow, I hadn't heard that Mark had died. I remember his from the swim team. Good swimmer, good guy. Quiet, kind. Thanks Kevin for writing such nice recollections of Mark.Ronald Gleichner
I still remember the day that Mark talked me into joining the LHS Swim Team - it turned-out to be a great experience for me. Mark was a much better swimmer than I was, but he was always very encouraging and positive in my efforts to improve.In the years after HS, I used to run into him and his father when I went fishing at Bullhead Lake with my dad and my brother. It was nice to be able to "catch-up" with him, or to hear news about him once in a while.
I still remember being shocked when I heard about his first battle with Cancer, but was elated when it appeared that he had beaten it. I was totally shaken when I heard that it had come back, and had cut his life short.
Brad Fanta
I had no idea that Mark died. What a great guy... quiet but always thoughtful with a wry, dark sense of humor. Thanks, Kevin, for the vivid memories. I'd need a hypnotist to recall similar scenes from childhood. Nevertheless, I remember Mark from swim team and especially the good time we had together at the 10 year reunion.