Glen Griswold 1958-2021

Glen Griswold, (more commonly known as, Red) 63 of South Windsor, passed away peacefully at Manchester Memorial Hospital with his daughter Suzan and her husband safely in view.

Glen was born in Manchester, CT 1/10/1958 to the late Allen A. Griswold and Barbara A. O'Brien Griswold. Along with his mother Barbara, he is survived by his beloved wife Patricia Griswold of South Windsor, brother George Griswold of Manchester, daughter Meghan Szabo and her husband Todd of Willington, daughter Suzan Power, and her husband Jason of Andover, grandchildren Maison, Landon, Jacob and Matthew. Glen is also survived by his step-children Nikia Nolet and Larry Nolet and step-granddaughter Lilly.

Glen graduated from Howell Cheney Tech in 1976. He was a master machinist and loved working with his hands. For years Glen worked at Carlisle Johnson and then with South Windsor Board of Education where he retired from.

Glen loved camping and would bring his family every year, he passed on his love of the outdoors to both of his girls. Glen loved to work with his hands, to "twist the wrench" as he would say. He had an MGB that was a lifelong project built from the frame up. His grandson Maison carries on his love for cars and "twisting that wrench". He loved to take his two older grandsons fishing and to teach them archery. He loved his family dearly.

Glen and his wife Patty would do everything together, Glen certainly kept Patty on her toes & they were "joined at the hip". Glen had a kind, gentle spirit and would do anything for anyone.

Glen along with his love of cars loved his Harley and riding. His lifelong motto was "I'm a biker, I'm tough!" Glen was a free spirit. Putting his whole life into words is hard.

Glen will be taken on one last ride by his dear cousin Monica Owen.

There will be a private celebration of life in the spring when it is safe to congregate.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you make a donation to Manchester Memorial Hospital ICU or Mother's Against Drunk Driving in Glen's memory.

"I hope you hit those gold streets on two wheels

I hope your mansion in the sky's got a ten-acre field With some mud and some hubs you can lock in, Make some thunder, make 'em wonder how you got in. Hide your beer, hide your clear from the man upstairs. Crank it loud, hold it down 'til I get there And when I do I hope you got some new stories to tell 'Til then, give heaven some hell"

Fly high, ride free & give them hell, Dad.