It’s with a heavy heart that I’m writing to let everyone know that Biff Bam Pop!’s Glenn Walker passed away on Wednesday, December 6th. Though seemingly indestructible in my eyes, the truth is that Glenn had suffered from various health issues over the years and finally, and so sadly, his time had come.
Though he wasn’t a founding member of the Biff Bam Pop! team, this site eventually became one of his many online homes, probably his favourite. Glenn often told me that Biff Bam Pop! was the best job he ever had, paid or unpaid. I always referred to Glenn as second-in-command, but the truth is simply that he kept this place going for years, as I was caught up in family life, new jobs, and writing books – outside endeavours that he encouraged and supported fully. He brought to Biff Bam Pop! his unmatched knowledge of pop culture, including Silver Age Comics and Eurovision, neither of which I understood, but which he could pontificate about with ease.
Glenn loved the world he wrote about, and he talked about those loves across a variety of platforms – our Biff Bam Popcasts, the Nerdfect Strangers podcast, the GAR podcast with his friend Ray, and the wonderful Make Mine Magic podcast, which he hosted with his beloved wife, Jennifer. Our Biff Bam Popcast’s were incredibly fun, as he and I, along with Marie Gilbert, JP Fallavollita and others, would debate and discuss pop culture happenings. Nobody ever agreed with me, to the best of my recollection. Especially Glenn.
Prior to moving down south to Florida, Glenn was an essential part of the South Jersey Writer’s Group, where he inspired and organized, and met some wonderful writers along the way, including James Knipp, Sarah Miduski and Loretta Swearingen Sisco, who he would invite into the Biff Bam Pop! fold as well. His longtime friend Robin Renee was also part of our team, and he spoke of her often and fondly.
But take all this away, and at the end of the day, Glenn Walker was my friend. One of my best friends.
Glenn and I met online through a shared Facebook connection in Jonathan Maberry. I remember our first online conversation, which took place over Facebook Messenger in March 2009, as we discussed the website. Eventually, I asked Glenn to contribute an article, then another, and then he became part of the team, and my life. Our friendship transcended location or age (he was much, much older than me), and was about mutual respect and eventually a brotherly love for one another. We’d chat nearly everyday on Messenger, about life, the universe and everything. When we finally met face to face in the spring of 2015, when he picked me up at the airport as I ventured to Jersey to see my friend, I said, “Nice to meet you.” We both laughed. We already knew each other better than most.
This year, on January 2nd, I turned 40. I threw a birthday party for myself and, to my honour and amazement, Jenn and Glenn traveled from Florida to Toronto to be there for it. We managed to spend some meals together, and have some great times. The plan was for me and Biff Bam Pop’s Princess to travel down to see Jenn and Glenn and take in Disney. While I’m sorry it didn’t work out, and that time was against this plan, I’ll make a point of the Princess, Jenn and I going together. I think Glenn would absolutely want that.
The truth is, as I sit here writing this, I’m in complete denial that Glenn Walker is gone. I keep waiting for a text from Jenn saying differently. We should be so lucky. But through what is a new sort of grief for me, the loss of a friend, I also think about what Glenn would tell me to do, to handle it and process it.
He’d tell me to write. And then keep writing. Because that’s what Glenn Walker would do.
And so I’ll keep writing, though with an emptiness in my heart knowing that my friend isn’t here to read my words any longer.
I love you, buddy. See you on the other side.
