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For those of us who knew and loved Glenn: How to explain to others one that had such a positive impact on so many different lives? How to sum up the life of one man who dazzled everyone around him with his purity of heart, his kindness, his love? If you were lucky enough to have spent any time with him at all, whether it be watching him tear up the stage singing, shrieking and flailing around as the front man for bands such as Soilent Green, or whether you knew him from tape trading or penpal-ing, or just seeing his face in the crowd at shows with that utterly wicked blissful smile he got when he was immersed in music he so very much loved, and was a part of…then you know how much this loss hurts so very much.

Those of you who didn’t know him, here’s some background: Glenn Marshall Rambo was born in on December 4, 1970, and raised by his grandmother and mother in Violet, LA, St Bernard Parish, or “Da Parish” as it’s affectionately known to those in the New Orleans area. From an early age he was blessed/cursed with a unique appearance which some found “strange” or “evil” and which led him to be harassed, on a daily basis, by local close-minded law enforcement and those who called he and his family “witches.” Others from St. Bernard would always see Glenn walking everywhere, with a big boombox on his shoulder, taking his time and listening to his music. He soon acquired the affectionate nickname “Lil’ Ozzy” and found safe haven when he connected with other “freaks” like himself in the burgeoning underground New Orleans hardcore/punk/metal scene, eventually starting a band called Nuclear Crucifixion in the mid- 80’s, along with good friends Donovan Punch, Brian Patton, Dave Moran and Darren Shallenberg. This band eventually mutated into an early incarnation of Soilent Green, and their shows were memorable not only for their ahead-of -their- time fusion of hardcore with intricate jazz inflected time changes but Glenn’s outrageous stage persona. He was a true “performance artist” at these early shows and eventually ended up singing with bands such as Nun Molesters, GM Pussy Bitch, and Swarm. Glenn was the guy at all the shows that knew every lyric, every riff, and who had such an extensive knowledge music in general that you could talk for hours and hours with him and he’d just keep recommending new bands, or pulling out obscure and arcane tapes of music you may not have heard of.

He was, contrary to what ignorant people thought sinister, one of the most genuine, loving, intelligent people you’d ever want to meet. Through the haze of memory I see him: his long, thick black hair, his exquisite bone structure and piercing dark eyes, his regal bearing, his long, thin beautifully tapered hands which he used to great effect when getting animated about the things he loved. He had an absolutely wonderful hypnotic speaking voice as well: low, well modulated, subtle: a true “Southern Gentleman” in the best sense. A lover of reading and obtaining information, he devoured books, always thirsty for knowledge and a deeper understanding of spirituality. He was no garden variety Satanist : Glenn was more interested in human nature and all its darkness and foibles than any suburban “evil” deathrocker would have you believe. He was wise beyond his years, and very sensitive, and you’d get a sense of that if you bothered to look beyond his Dark Prince appearance and talked to him seriously about any number of topics. He also possessed a keen humor and a sense of absurdity: life was sometimes ridiculous and there was no time for the bullshit.

Glenn was a great lover of animals who adopted a whole flock which he called his “babies.” He’d walk about the French Quarter with his beloved ferrets stuffed in his pockets, sneaking up his jacket, curled up around his neck. He generated an aura of light, and he considered his epilepsy, which caused him to be on medication his entire life and gave him seizures, not a handicap at all, but a blessing in disguise, because it gave him visions that other people couldn’t see.

That’s just the way he was…always turning something potentially tragic into something unique and magical. The transference of the everyday mundane into a life full of love and devotion to those he loved. And he touched everyone he knew in this same way, male or female. When he saw you and came over to give you a hug and a kiss you felt it, you felt his beauty and purity, and you never wanted him to let you go. He was a healing presence, a truly enchanting soul.

Unfortunately, it was his big heart that led to his demise. The hell on earth nightmare that was Hurricane Katrina, the “act of God” that was his death, made the way he died all the more senseless and cruel. He stayed in Violet with his mother and his “babies” for a number of reasons, including the fact that they had no car, he had a broken leg, and he didn’t have anywhere for them to evacuate to. He thought he’d just bear down and ride the storm out, surrounded by those closest to him and those things he loved most. His mother, who suffered from epilepsy as well, may have not wanted to leave the comfort of her home in times of great stress and uncertainty. And really, where could they have gone? No, they chose to ride out the storm and when the Levees broke, they didn’t stand a chance.

How, indeed, to sum up a life so full of this powerful effect he had on everyone who knew him? I leave you with one of his favorite quotes:

"Invoke me under my stars! Love is the law, love under will. Nor let the fools mistake love; for there are love and love. There is the dove, and there is the serpent. Choose ye well! He, my prophet, hath chosen, knowing the law of the fortress, and the great mystery of the House of God." Liber al vel Legis 1:57 --Aleister Crowley

Rest in Peace, our brother.
Alicia Morgan