Bill McClellan
April 21, 2014
STL
On a January evening in 2004, four young men were visiting an acquaintance who lived in an apartment in Maplewood. Also living in the apartment was a 17-year-old who attended an alternative high school. His name was Eddie.
Word was that Eddie sold pot.
Eddie was in his bedroom while the other young men were in the living room. Sometime after midnight, Eddie heard a knock on his door. He opened his door and was confronted by the four young men visiting his roommate. Three of these young men pushed their way into Eddie’s room, and demanded his drugs and money.
One of the three young men was Brendan Glaser. He was 20 years old. He was a high school dropout. He worked at an Auto Zone store on Big Bend Boulevard. He lived at home with his parents.
That was a tough situation for everybody. Glaser drank and did drugs. Mostly pot, but some prescription drugs. His parents were solid, working-class people. His dad was a mail carrier. His mom was an office manager at a medical practice.
At least he was working. They took some solace in that. Maybe he could get his life together. He had been diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder in second grade. School had never been easy. As a teen, he was in low-grade trouble. He and some friends were caught breaking hood ornaments off cars. Or caught with beer. Stuff like that. Nothing serious.
Until that night in 2004.