FLORHAM PARK, N.J. -- Summer days were brutally long for a teenaged Aaron Glenn and his four brothers. The alarm clock sounded at 4 a.m., and they were on the job by 4:30, working at least 12-hour days for their father, Amos, in the heat and humidity of Houston.

Amos Cleo Glenn -- A.C. to those close to him -- was a well-known subcontractor in the area. If there were trees that needed to be cut down or a field that had to be cleared, Amos was your man. He owned heavy machinery and spearheaded a workforce that increased once school was out for the summer.

The Glenn boys, with an age difference of 20 years from youngest to oldest, often stood in thick brush, wielding axes while looking out for lurking critters. As they became more accustomed to the treacherous environs, they learned how to catch and kill snakes with their bare hands and developed an immunity to poison ivy.

They worked five days a week and were paid by the quality of their work, not by the hour -- an unwritten incentive clause, so to speak. Of course, the amount of pay was the sole discretion of Amos, who didn't go home until the job was done.

"That was our summer," recalled Jason Glenn, 45, who like Aaron, 52, went on to play for the New York Jets, with their time overlapping in 2001. "It actually steered us to football because we were like, 'We don't want to do this our whole lives.'"

After a six-year NFL career as a linebacker, Jason, the youngest, earned a master's degree in education administration and now works as an executive athletic director for a school system in Austin, Texas. Aaron, the second youngest, enjoyed a 15-year playing career as defensive back before he got into business and, eventually, coaching.

In a way, he's back to those long, hot summers of his childhood. He's standing in the woods again, determined to clear a path to daylight.

He's the new coach of the Jets.


GLENN KNOWS WHAT lies ahead. Simply put, his challenge is to transform the Jets. It's a prodigious task, one that swallowed up many of his predecessors, but he can draw on experiences as a player and a coach.

He came from the Detroit Lions, who went from 3-13-1 to 15-2 in four years under Dan Campbell. Glenn was the defensive coordinator from Day 1, riding shotgun to one of the great turnarounds in NFL history.

As a young player, he experienced something similar under former Jets coach Bill Parcells, who inherited a 1-15 mess in 1997, worked his Hall of Fame magic and took them to the AFC Championship Game a year later.

For Glenn, it was two culture changes in one football lifetime.

"Here's what I learned," he said at his introductory news conference. "I can stand in front of a group of men, and I can give as many rah-rah speeches as I can, but culture is about people and getting the right people in the building. I saw that firsthand with what Bill Parcells did, and that's why the turnaround was so fast."

Nearly three decades later, Glenn is attempting to recreate what Parcells -- his football mentor -- did then.

With old-school discipline and a clear vision, Parcells turned an underachieving group with little confidence into a competitive team with swagger. When they clinched a winning record in 1997, a defiant Parcells pronounced, "You can't call us losers anymore" -- a watershed moment for the franchise.

The current Jets -- nine years removed from their last winning season and 14 years removed from their last playoff appearance -- desperately need that kind jolt from Glenn.

"He is the culture change," said former Jets star Keyshawn Johnson, Glenn's teammate from 1996 to 1999.

Ex-Jet Marvin Washington predicted Glenn will make a historical impact on the franchise.

"Besides Weeb Ewbank and Bill Parcells, this is the most important hire the Jets have had," said Washington, referencing the coach (Ewbank) who led them to their only Super Bowl championship in 1969. "It only takes one guy to turn a program around. I think the Jets finally got it right."

Washington, Johnson and Glenn were teammates on the '96 team that won one game under the vilified Rich Kotite. His team was inept despite having one of the highest payrolls, a flashy rookie receiver in Johnson (the No. 1 overall pick) and a free-agent quarterback in Neil O'Donnell, who had just played in the Super Bowl for the Pittsburgh Steelers.

The low point occurred when O'Donnell tore a calf muscle in pregame warmups on Dec. 1. He was practicing dropbacks in the end zone and slipped on the Jets' logo. Asked to describe that season, Washington laughed.

"You're bringing up trauma, man," he said. "I didn't know this was going to be a trauma interview."

Turning serious, Washington said, "The culture was bad, the team was bad."

The same could be said for the 2024 Jets, who fired their coach, Robert Saleh, and general manager, Joe Douglas, during the season and stumbled to a 5-12 record despite a roster that included future Hall of Fame quarterback Aaron Rodgers and several marquee names. They lost seven one-score games, showing they had enough talent to compete, but lacked finishing power.

Something was missing, probably an intangible. Maybe it was confidence. Or proper coaching. Or all the above.

If you're looking for symmetry, the '96 Jets also lost seven one-score games, then followed up with 9-7 and 12-4 records the next two years.

Johnson credited Parcells and defensive coordinator Bill Belichick with flipping the culture, saying they brought instant credibility because of their Super Bowl rings. Glenn doesn't possess that kind of cache. While he made the playoffs four straight times as an assistant on Sean Payton's staff with the New Orleans Saints, and two more times in Detroit, he never has reached the Super Bowl as a player or coach.

That shouldn't matter, according to Johnson, who eventually won a Super Bowl with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

"His skins on the wall aren't the same as the skins on the wall as Payton, Parcells and Belichick, who have won championships as a head coach," Johnson said. "But he has skins on the wall because he was a high-level NFL player. Players are going to respect him more than a normal coach. I'm just telling you the reality of it."

Glenn, a 1994 first-round pick, made three Pro Bowls. He made highlight-film plays, once scoring on a 104-yard return on a missed field goal to pull out a close win for the Jets. Another time, he took a Dan Marino pass to the house -- a 100-yard interception return to avenge the touchdown he allowed on Marino's celebrated "Fake Spike" play in 1994. Glenn even won over Parcells, who usually preferred taller cornerbacks. Standing at 5-foot-9, Glenn was ultra quick, smart and tenacious.

"You don't like to take exceptions, but if you take exceptions, you'd like them to be like him -- that he has everything, but maybe one thing is missing," Parcells recalled. "He was a good football player."

It's rare for a former star player to become a successful coach with his old team. The most famous example in the modern era is Mike Ditka, a Hall of Fame tight end with the Chicago Bears who led them to a Super Bowl title in the 1985 season.

You're more likely to see a championship with a marginal player, as it did with Gary Kubiak and Doug Pederson -- former backup quarterbacks that did it with the Denver Broncos and Philadelphia Eagles in 2015 and 2017, respectively.

Glenn will try to be the exception (again). He's player-friendly but will demand accountability, according to those who know him best.

"He's got an edge to him, similar to Parcells and Belichick," said ex-Jet Ray Mickens, a former teammate and close friend of Glenn. "It's going to be straightforward. There won't be cute stories or animations like we got from some other coaches in New York."

Said Lions cornerback Ennis Rakestraw Jr.: "He loves you hard."


AFTER RETIRING FROM his playing career, Glenn became a businessman in the Houston area, operating eight restaurants. He was a tremendous success story. One of 11 siblings, he spent much of his childhood in Bordersville, Texas, a tiny community on the outskirts of Houston where the median annual income was about $3,000 when was born in 1972. He went from there to an inspiring post-football career.

He liked his life, but he didn't love it. There was a void. He missed football.

Occasionally, he showed up at Klein Oak High School to watch Jason coach. Aaron found himself instructing players, teaching fundamentals off to the side.

"I told him, 'You can't do this in a suit and tie. I know you're a businessman,'" Jason said, recalling his tease with a laugh.

The tipping point came in front of the TV, when Aaron was getting worked up while checking out a football game. He always watched games with a critical eye, cursing when he noticed something amiss. His wife, Devaney, finally chimed in.

Go coach, baby, she told him. Go coach.

"I'm pretty sure Devaney got tired of him yelling at the TV," Jason said.

Glenn called Parcells and told him he wanted to get into coaching. Parcells encouraged him to start in scouting. Glenn resisted. Parcells, who can be quite persuasive, prevailed. The best head coaches, he told his protege, are the best evaluators.

So Glenn did two years of scouting for the Jets. In 2012, he worked out of the facility in the pro-personnel department, breaking down tape for countless hours in dark rooms. The next year, he hit the road as their Southwest and Rocky Mountain area scout.

In retrospect, he's glad he listened to Parcells. Those two years of scouting reinforced the "no shortcuts" mentality instilled in him by his father, who succumbed to cancer and a brain aneurysm in 2018. He was 77.

"I took his advice, probably the best advice I've had since coming back into this league," Glenn said of Parcells.

Now he was on a mission. Not only was he determined to become a head coach, but it had to be for the Jets. For years, he had been telling friends that the Jets were his "dream job." There was unfinished business in New York, he said. To make it happen, he tried to absorb as much knowledge as he could.

He was an assistant secondary coach for the Cleveland Browns in 2015 when he called former Jets and University of Virginia head coach Al Groh for advice on an offseason coaching project. By chance, Groh happened to be in Cleveland, visiting his daughter. He told Glenn he'd be happy to meet with him.

Glenn was there within two hours, and they spent the entire afternoon talking ball. So began an annual tradition -- a "special" bond, Glenn said.

For many of the last 10 summers, Glenn has taken time out of his vacation to visit Groh at his home in Hingham, Massachusetts. He usually stays for two or three days, bunking in Groh's home. They watch tape, diagram plays on a whiteboard and discuss all aspects of the game. During COVID, they spent close to 100 hours on Zoom sessions, according to Groh's estimate.

"He really wants to master this game," said Groh, 80, who likes to assist current coaches.

Glenn made a methodical ascent over 13 years, from scout to assistant position coach to position coach to coordinator to head coach. It was all part of his game plan.

No one in the family was surprised that he made it to head coach. When Jason got the call from Aaron with the news, he didn't exult. It was a matter-of-fact reaction, though he teared up as he streamed the news conference from his office in Texas. He thought about their father, who always preached that success was inevitable with hard work.

Glenn's work is only beginning, though he doesn't see it that way. In his mind, it began Jan. 17, 1999, the day the Jets lost to the Broncos in the AFC Championship Game, 23-10, after blowing a 10-0 lead in the third quarter. Kotite's misfits from '96, transformed by Parcells, had come oh-so-close to a Super Bowl.

For Glenn, the sting hasn't subsided.

"I'll be damned if I'm not going to come back here and get that back," he said, still chasing those points nearly three decades later.

Glenn still hears the words of his late father: Finish the job.