This year flew by, and by Jonathan, has a lot happened!
For this month's deep dive, Will shares the story of one of the most life-affirming moments from 2025 – being inducted into his high school's Hall of Honor. It's a heartfelt look back on his roots, and an homage to the people who believed in him before he even believed in himself.
And before we get into it, we want to say: thank you. Each and every one of you.
You were the secret sauce in an amazing 2025 for us – so from the bottom of our hearts, we wish you a warm and wonderful holiday season with your family, friends, and loved ones. May Texaco Mike leave a bounty of gifts under your holiday foliage of choice!
All our love,
The Glaucomfleckens
The Glaucomflecken Holiday Card
Mr. Sample & Me
I’ve been informed it’s the last month of the year, and as such, it’s the time to regale you all with tales of the past 12 months. A Glaucomflecken-style holiday card, so to speak.
Which is funny, because Kristin and I have never done holiday cards. Frankly, I'm not sure how people do it. Gather addresses, find the photos, make a neat collage, print the things, mail the things. We both love receiving cards from people we only see once or twice a year, or never – but us? Nope. Just not holiday card people.
For my part, I feel a bit uncomfortable listing off my own yearly accomplishments like a résumé. I'll brag about my wife and kids all day, just leave me out of it. Except I can't be left out, because it's a family holiday card, and it would be weird if I wasn’t in it.
Ok, maybe I'm overthinking it. How about this: Instead of a traditional end of year mailing, I'll use this newsletter to tell you all about my favorite thing that happened to me in 2025.*
*Does not include the 3 weeks of call during which I had to come into the emergency department a grand total of zero times
Last month, I was inducted into my high school’s “Hall of Honor”. I know I just said I don't like talking about my accomplishments, but that's not the point of this story.
So, a little background first:
I went to Deer Park High School in southeast Texas. It's a massive 6A school smack dab in the shadow of the massive oil refineries that adorn the Houston ship channel. When you walk through the school's foyer, you’ll notice the walls are adorned with dozens of laser-etched marble plaques featuring pictures and accomplishments of the school’s most notable graduates.
This is the Hall of Honor. It features World Series champion Andy Pettite, former Miss Universe Chelsi Smith, countless other local heroes and leaders… and now, me.
This guy!
My first trip back to my high school since graduation in 2004 scratched every nostalgia itch.
The event took place in the high school cafeteria. I expected an assortment of chicken strips, square pizzas, corn off the cob, and gooey chocolate chip cookies that had been baking in plastic underneath heat lamps for hours. I would have been thrilled to experience an authentic high school cafeteria lunch one last time in my life, but alas, the school decided to splurge on local catering. Oh well.
Arriving was kind of surreal. We were greeted by the musical stylings of the Deer Park High School symphony orchestra. Members of the cheerleading squad ushered us to our seats as the projector cycled photos of me in high school, with my slenderman physique and Sideshow Bob hair.
I wasn't kidding about the Slenderman/Sideshow Bob thing.
My former junior high school principal introduced me by running through my list of high school activities. Some of them I remembered fondly – marching band – others, I couldn’t recall whatsoever. Like… really? I was a member of the German club?? For 3 years???
This is to say, the whole evening was wonderful. But by far, the highlight was the presence of my 12th grade English teacher, Mr. Sample.
When I make a Glaucomflecken skit, my favorite part of the process is the writing. I put a lot of thought and time into those silly character interactions. You can thank Mr. Sample for that, because he’s the guy who sparked my love for it.
In his AP English class that year, we read a lot of the standard fare: The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, and probably something by Tolstoy that leaves you in a bad mood for the entire semester. I wasn't interested. I was way more focused on being the class clown, filling my essays with jokes about Daisy Buchanan and sarcastically musing on why anybody would name a place "West Egg”.
But rather than berate me, or worse, give me actual literary criticism, Mr. Sample responded to my general tomfoolery by pushing me to do more of it – in a constructive way.
He encouraged me to read and write satire, and introduced me to authors like Twain, Wilde, and Vonnegut. Another time, he dragged me (more or less against my will) to a writing competition for high school seniors in Houston. I won third place. Mr. Sample saw something in me that I didn’t yet see in myself. Moreover, he believed when I didn’t.
So as I look back on this past year, I’m also kinda looking back at my high school self.
I’ve been a lot of different people between then and now – literally, I play like 20 different kinds of doctors in my silly little skits – but I don’t think any of the achievements that got me inducted into the Deer Park High School Hall of Honor happen without the teacher who believed in me. And for that, I am forever grateful.
Anyway, enough of the potentially lacrimation-inducing rambling. Here's a holiday-themed video that wouldn't exist without Mr. Sample.
And if you’ve been along with us for any of it – this year, or the years prior – thank you.
Neither Kristin nor I take it for granted how awesome it is that we get to do this. We hope our work made you laugh, learn, or nod your head with an understated yet intense enthusiasm.
So from all of us Glaucomfleckens – Happy Holidays!
In Last Month's Issue
In last month's deep dive, Kristin reflected on her experience co-surviving Will's cardiac arrest, and how it's informed her view of CPR training and bystander trauma.
This essay breaks down her thoughts about how we can better support lay CPR responders and co-survivors through the under-recognized trauma of trying to save someone's life during a medical crisis – especially a loved one.
We really hope this resonates with you, and inspires some change in the way CPR training programs are currently run. ❤️
Did A Fantastic Human Share
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