NOTES FROM THE ARTIST

"When I was asked to write this biography it dawned on me that I am not used to expressing myself in words, being used to the pen and brush to do my speaking. I began to wonder what to write about myself that could be even remotely interesting. I will spare you from any poor attempts at clever metaphors or picturesque speech.

Many years ago, while I was in college, my parents, my fiance, and I went to the Columbus Airport to pick up my sister who was returning from a school sponsered trip to Romania. I really didn't want to go, but it was one of those things that when your parents and fiance want you to do something, you do it. (Now that I have been married to that woman for 28 years, I realize that you end up doing a lot of that sort of thing.) My sister's flight had been, of all things, delayed. We sat in the airport waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

By this point, I had even resorted to reading my fiance's Cosmopolitan magazine. I was just about to discover where my "G spot" is when my fiance exclaimed "LOOK!!!! There goes Woody Hayes! REALLY! Go get his autograph!"

Anxious just to be near a truly great and famous individual, (but really to impress my fiance) I grabbed a ball point pen to see if I could catch the attention of the finest football coach in the history of the game.

It was around 11 o'clock at night. Coach Hayes had probably been on a recruiting trip. He was probably tired, hungry, busy, pre-occupied. If didn't occur to me that he might just have a thousand other things on his mind far more important than to placate a love-sick college student who was really just trying to get an autograph for his sports-fan, phys-ed major girlfriend.

"Coach Hayes?" I sheepishly asked, voice cracking. "Could I, uh, please trouble you, um for your ...well, uh, autograph?"

"Well I'd be happy to." Coach Hayes spoke...to me...."Tell me, where do you go to school?"

"Who, me? Me? I, well, uh, I, uh, go, um, to BG. I mean BGSU. Uh, that's Bowling Green State University. I'm an English major, and um, studying uh, well uh, speech." (What a dork.)

Fortunately, about this time, my Mother, equally smooth, saw me talking with someone and decided to come over and introduce herself. Mom would save me. She was never at a loss for words.

"Mom, this is Coach Hayes. Woody Hayes, you know? Coach Hayes, this is my Mother, um, Jo An Andrews."

"It is very nice to meet you ma'am. You have a very fine son here, you should be very proud of him."

"Well I am proud of him. Say, you look familiar, I think that we have met somewhere...tell me, do you play bridge?" (Mom was a life-master in duplicate bridge and thought she knew everyone in the game.)

"No, I can't say that I do. Do you by any chance play football?" he joked.

From that point on, Woody Hayes never mentioned football again. He asked Mom about playing bridge, and me about Bowling Green. We actually talked for quite some time. Perhaps 15 minutes. He never said he was in a hurry. He never seemed impatient. He was polite. He was sincere. He was regular. He was interesting. He was interested. He was a good listener. He was a gentleman.
He was nice to my Mother.

I'll never forget Woody Hayes.

It is to the memory of Woody Hayes that I dedicate this artwork, and I only hope that you had a chance to meet the Woody Hayes the way I did, and find out that not only was Woody Hayes a great football coach, a great leader, and a great molder of men, but he was also a great guy.

Thanks Coach Hayes!

Thanks from all of us.

      John H. Andrews