Running Towards The Flames — UH Car Crash Hero Glenn Cadrez Wants You To Know The Real Story Of That Burning Car, His Forever Coogs Bonds and What Made Him

Glenn Cadrez ran towards the smoke and flames, calculating how much time he might have rather than the danger. The former University of Houston standout who turned himself into a key cog on two Super Bowl champions always analyzed things a little differently. Cadrez always has been a man of action — and he told himself he couldn’t hesitate now. Even if the car crash that unfolded right in front of him seemed like something out of a movie, with a BMW flying across the middle barrier to hit the Nissan Sentra traveling in front of Cadrez’s truck head on, sending both vehicles into flames.

“I saw that it was burning so I put myself under a time constraint,” Cadrez tells PaperCity. “Because I thought it was going to like engulf or blow up or something. Literally, eight seconds after I pulled him out, that thing engulfed to the front seat. And it was just flames everywhere.

“It was already flames in the backseat when I was doing it. And black smoke.”

With the backseat on fire and that black smoke already making seeing anything inside the mangled car difficult, Glenn Cadrez still reached inside the burning BMW and pulled the driver out. He saved the man’s life with seconds to spare.

The story has become something of a national sensation, with Cadrez rightly hailed as hero. But there is more to the tale than the soundbites Cadrez gave to TMZ that have been endlessly aggregated by news outlets throughout the country, including a number in Houston. There is certainly much more to Glenn Cadrez, the Cougar who ran towards the burning car. Without hesitation.

“I have a quick decision making process,” Cadrez tells PaperCity. “I think maybe do to my background in the NFL or something. I mean, it’s a split second. You make a read and you go. And you don’t think of putting your body through the consequences. It’s not something you have to even think about. You just kind of do it.

“I didn’t feel like I was in danger.”

Of course, Cadrez is very much in danger at that moment. He could have been caught in the burning car, overcome by the billowing black smoke. But that is not what entered into his analysis. Instead Cadrez thought of the other guy, the stranger in that smoking car.

“I just felt like it could be very bad and things could happen,” he says. “So hurry up and get him out.”

Glenn Cadrez got him out, even though the 25-year-old driver’s leg was mangled and he couldn’t walk on his own. Cadrez got them both away from the burning mangled cars and the rapidly spreading fire. He isn’t sure what to make of all the attention his supremely selfless act is getting. He’s certainly not courting the celebrity of it. He turned down an appearance on a morning show because it conflicted with his schedule. In the 25 minutes we spent on the phone, he sounded most excited when the talk turned to his former UH teammates, his Sigma Chi fraternity brothers and current Houston head coach Willie Fritz.

The hero talk is not something Glenn Cadrez wants any part of. He already wonders if people are losing sight of the reality of the story as gets spun through the instant news cycle, retold by so many who’ve never talked to him, often reduced to a quick clip or two.

“It’s not for a video,” Cadrez says, his voice rising for a moment. “Not for TikTok. It was real life. Somebody needed help. I just don’t see how there would be a second thought. It’s not something I really look at as heroic. A terrible accident had happened in front of me.

“I was at the right place at the right time so why not help? That’s all I did.”

“I saw that it was burning so I put myself under a time constraint. Because I thought it was going to like engulf or blow up or something. Literally, eight seconds after I pulled him out, that thing engulfed to the front seat. And it was just flames everywhere. — Glenn Cadrez

Glenn Cadrez, The Forever Teammate

Cadrez’s former University of Houston football teammates are not shocked by what he did. Or how humble he is being about it. This is the beyond loyal guy they know who is always willing to help a friend.

“Knowing Glenn, what he did isn’t a surprise at all,” Ted Pardee, Cadrez’s close UH teammate and a fellow linebacker, tells PaperCity. “. . . Just knowing him and just how he is as a dad and as a friend. He’s one of those friends. . . He’s the kind of guy that would bend over backwards to help one of us — former teammates. Let alone somebody that’s in trouble.

“So I heard about it and  I was like, ‘That’s my guy.’ I knew he’d do it.”

Cadrez still talks to a half dozen of his old UH teammates every week. “I’m talking two, three times a week with some of them,” he laughs. Ted Pardee, Carlos Leon, Christopher Tuffin (who founded a horror movie production company with Cadrez years ago and is still in the movie business himself) are all in that tight group of forever connected Coogs.

This California guy through and through still gets a kick out of how he ended up at the school in Houston’s Third Ward, setting himself up for a lifetime of coming back to Texas regularly. “(Former UH head coach) John Jenkins was looking at a quarterback that I was playing against,” Cadrez says. “And he couldn’t really see the quarterback too much because I was putting so much pressure on him.

“So he said, ‘Who’s that guy? I’m going to recruit him.’ And he was like the first school to really recruit me hard. And they had just won the Heisman (with Andre Ware). And they were in the Top 10 so it was like: What a perfect fit.”

“He’s the kind of guy that would bend over backwards to help one of us — former teammates. Let alone somebody that’s in trouble. So I heard about it and  I was like, ‘That’s my guy.’ I knew he’d do it.” — former UH linebacker Ted Pardee

Cadrez is still very proud that he’s a Cougar. He visited the campus a few months ago with his football-playing sons Keaton and Kannon, quickly finding himself embraced by current coach Willie Fritz who led them on a tour.

“Coach Fritz was just awesome,” Cadrez tells PaperCity. “Gave the boys gloves and a hat, showed them everything. And got ’em real fired up on Houston football.”

This cerebral linebacker turned himself into an NFL player despite having the odds stacked against him. Drafted in the sixth round by the New York Jets in 1992, Cadrez become such a special teams demon and versatile player that Pete Carroll could not help but keep him around. During his run with the Denver Broncos, he started at outside linebacker for a season, middle linebacker for another season, weak-side linebacker for another season and played what then Broncos coach Mike Shanahan called Spinner in nickel packages. Sometimes, Shanahan even had Cadrez putting his hand down and rushing the passer like a defensive end on third downs. In the 1998 AFC Championship Game against the Pittsburgh Steelers, Cadrez lined up in the secondary with Hall of Fame safety Steve Atwater in another wrinkle. He was on the hands team for onside kicks.

As a player, Glenn Cadrez found any way he could to get it done, to help his team. He even played some fullback in short yardage situations with the Jets.

“I was just able to do a lot of things,” Cadrez says. “Maybe not one particular thing at a Pro Bowl level, but a lot of good things. I was just a solid player that they could move around and utilize. I think if you were to ask every player on the team, I think they would be confident that I’m going to come very well prepared. . .

“That they could count on me.”

You still can. In every way that matters. In every way that means something. When the unthinkable happened right in front of him on a California highway, he pulled over and sprang into action.

“It’s not for a video. Not for TikTok. It was real life. Somebody needed help. I just don’t see how there would be a second thought. It’s not something I really look at as heroic.” — Glenn Cadrez

An Uncommon Act Of Bravery For An Uncommon Man

Would you run towards that burning car? Reach into it and pull someone out through the billowing black smoke with the backseat already ablaze? How many of us would? Just seconds after having to swerve out of the way to avoid becoming part of the accident himself, Glenn Cadrez did.

“Most people probably just drive on,” Pardee says. “But he stopped. And immediately went into action.”

Cadrez still feels sad about the incident. He was shocked when he found out the next day that there were three other people in that fiery car who died — a 23-year-old woman and a teenage boy and girl. When he got to the car, he could only see the driver. He wishes he could have saved more people.

“I opened the front door and couldn’t see much of anything,” Cadrez tells PaperCity. “I kind of saw a silhouette and heard moaning and just pulled him out. And was yelling, ‘Is there anyone else?’ It was quiet. No screams or nothing.”

Cadrez’s voice breaks for a second. He admits to having some sleepless nights thinking about the people who died, the young people he had no chance to save. The driver of the other car, the Nissan Sentra, also died. It turns out you can be a hero and still be haunted.

Glenn Cadrez knows this is more than a story, more than a few soundbites that are shared and spread. He lived it. He saw that car completely engulf in flames, felt the heat of it his bones, just seconds after he pulled the 25-year-old man to safety.

“It’s become a story and you create like characters in the story,” Cadrez says of his resistance to the simple narratives that have quickly become all anyone knows about what happened. “And I just think that any one of my friends would have done the same thing. I think that any American male would do that and try to help someone.

“I hope that’s the case. Because I have five kids and I’d want someone to help them. I’d want someone to help me.”

Cadrez has not heard from the man whose life he saved. He notes that the guy was in pretty bad shape and figures he’s still in the hospital. Charges are pending against this driver according to the Los Angeles Times, though no alcohol was found in his system.

To this Forever Coog, it’s more than a simple headline that everyone quickly digests, likes and then scrolls past to get onto the next. Things don’t usually get wrapped up in neat bows. Even tremendous acts of courage can be marked by tragedy. Cadrez wants you to think about the other people in the crash too. He certainly is.

Real heroes feel and hurt. Glenn Cadrez certainly is one. He never wanted to be one. He isn’t seeking any credit. He just acted. Ran towards the flames. Grabbed someone through the black smoke in an utterly chaotic scene on a dark California highway and saved a life.

The best part of this sudden onslaught of new fame he never asked for? Reconnecting with some guys he either played football with or was in the fraternity with at the University of Houston that he hadn’t kept as close contact with as his core crew.

“I’ve seen some guys that I played with make a comment on Instagram,” Cadrez says. “That’s appreciated. . . Houston is a home away from home.”

Cadrez arrived at UH as a California kid who many of his Texas teammates kidded about his weird Cali ways. He left as connected with a group of guys as he’d ever be, a Forever Coog through and through. Guys from those early 1990s Houston teams still try and all get together every year, often to go fishing, with all their kids along for the ride, almost always in Texas.

They still joke about their trip to Tokyo to play Arizona State in something called the Coca-Cola Classic in the last game of the 1990 regular season. That UH group was a loose, wild bunch and the Cougar coaching staff decided not to put in a curfew until the final night before the game. So Cadrez, Pardee, Leon, Kenny Perry (Texas Tech’s current associate head coach) and rest of those connected Coogs hit Tokyo hard. One morning they stumbled back into the hotel at around 6:45 am and came across the Arizona State players — who found themselves under a strict bed check all week — having a team meeting in the lobby. As the UH players stagger in all bleary-eyed, they know what the Wildcats are thinking.

“They were like, ‘God, we’re going to kill these guys,’ ” Padree laughs. “And then we get out to the game two nights later and we absolutely drum them so bad. We crush those guys. Had a great time.”

Later that night, the two teams meet again in a bar (with the Arizona State players finally out) and the Wildcats moan how unfair it is that Houston players partied every night and still won big. Glenn Cadrez turns to them and barks, “See. You guys should have come on over to UH to play football.”

He always had great timing.

These days, Glenn Cadrez is a successful real estate developer who’s working on bringing a 27-acre project in his hometown of El Centro, California to life. It’s his dream project at age 55, his chance to impact the area where he grew up. As usual, he’s thinking big.

“I’d like to get like a Buc-ee’s in there,” Cadrez says. “If anyone can get the word to Buc-ee’s.”

Turns out you cannot take the Texas out of a California convert Forever Coog. The urge to act either. Glenn Cadrez insists he is not a hero. Everyone else knows he is.

He ran towards the flames. Went into the dark smoke and pulled somebody’s son out to safety. But even courageous acts can leave scars.

“I feel bad for him that he feels like he wanted to do more,” Pardee says. “But he doesn’t realize what he did was unbelievable. I mean, he saved that guy’s life. There’s no question about it. That’s what I told him. Like ‘Dude, you went way above and beyond with what 99.9 percent of the population would have done.

“He just kind of threw caution to the wind.”

Glenn Cadrez didn’t do it for attention. He did it because somebody had to, because to him, not acting is unthinkable.