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In 1984, the Club set out to have an Annual Dinner featuring a special guest to help raise
money for our fledgling scholarship fund. The only problem was who to invite. The biggest
name on the table was a recently retired coach. But, was it possible?
“Why not?” The query came from Earl Voorhies. Earl was the Club Treasurer at the
time. Actually, that meant he called around to a half dozen members when we needed
money for something and solicited contributions. We had little money in the coffers. The
scholarship fund was but a year old; the golf tournament had not been started; and OSU
football games appeared only sporadically on ABC. The Club was bouncing around from
place to place to find bars with the appropriate satellite and trying to avoid the SEC game of
the week. Those were the days of Danny’s on Oakland, the Holiday Inn on State Road 7,
and Danny’s in the motel on Federal Highway in Pompano. Long before the friendly
confines of Bru’s.
But, who needed money? Earl was a dreamer, an optimist and a talker. He was our
evangelical preacher of the Buckeye faith and he was concocting the best Buckeye revival
we had ever seen down here in Broward County. His tent would be the old Harris’ Imperial
House on A-1-A in Pompano Beach. Now, don’t go looking for the place. It’s long since
been torn down, after Harris disappeared. But that’s another tale.
Now Earl fancied himself an old friend of one Wayne Woodrow Hayes and suggested that
his old friend would be our speaker and honored guest for our March dinner. Coach Hayes
had been cut loose from his head coaching position about six years previously due to a
punch that was a bit more evident than Clay’s thumping of Liston. Woody was now in high
demand for every minute of his time and was being pulled to the farthest reaches of the
Buckeye nation by those eager to hear his sage advice.
The Alumni Association said it was out of the question and Woody himself confessed to a
conflict at a dinner in Texas the very Saturday we were seeking his presence. A lesser
spirit would have folded, but old Earl just kept grinning and talking.
“Woody, you must attend. We have a scholarship fund in its infancy.”
Woody responded. “Many others have the same, besides, I’ve given my word to the Texas
folks for Saturday,” Earl shot back, “Saturday? Why, who was talking about Saturday? I
must have misspoken. It’s Friday night that we have open and we are dying to see ya.”
Well, the yarn kept spinning and for every legitimate reason Woody could muster, Earl
was countering from the pulpit of puffery. No hill was too high to climb, nor adjustment
too big for an agile tongue. When all looked lost; when Woody was apologizing for
disappointing his friend, Earl reached back for the big one – “Well, old Hop’s going to be
disappointed, too.”
The phone fell silent and we could only imagine the wheels turning as Woody reassessed
his calender. “Are you saying that Hop Cassady will be there?” “Can I fly out of there on
Saturday and still make Texas?”
Once caught in a bit of an exaggeration a fella has but two choices: Fess up and bug out or
tilt the windmill a trifle more to the right.
“You mean I forgot to tell you about Hop? And Les? And Vic? And Archie? I guess it
was supposed to be a surprise, but now it looks like we’ll have about 100 surprised alumni
faithful if the honored guest can’t make it.”
Pay dirt! As Earl put it later, “Heck, we got Woody. How tough can the other four be? I
just need to give each a call and remind each one that he is the only Heisman winner who
has not committed and can’t make the surprise for Woody.”
As preachers and snake charmers go, Earl was an All American. And on a Friday night in
March, 1984, Buckeye Heisman winners Les Horvath (1944), Vic Janowicz (1950), Howard
Hopalong Cassady (1955), Archie Griffin (1974-75) and Coach Woody Hayes met in the
second floor banquet room of the Harris’ Imperial House with over one hundred local and
loyal Buckeyes.
Earl wasn’t finished, of course. This was a scholarship fund raiser. He invited about
twenty five officers, directors and deep pocketed alumni to a pre-dinner mixer with our five
guests. Earl hired a professional photographer, and for a contribution, the photographer
would take whatever pictures our hearts desired, save one. It seems Earl got the five stars
aligned only once that evening for a single shot. This was the first and only time they had
all been together, and Earl was not about to be lost in the moment.
Woody spoke of “paying forward” and bits of wisdom and courage were shared by our four
men, who collectively held five Heismans. Earl’s congregation was glassy-eyed and the
revival tent was a-swaying.
We raised a pile of money that evening. We all had a photo taken with Archie and Hop
and Vic and Les. Woody put his arm around everyone who ventured close and endured the
endless flashes. But, Earl and the photographer knew they had one in the bank. A group
shot to be treasured. Earl’s idea was to make money for the scholarship fund. Some was
made, but it is the photo and the memories of the evening that we all will cherish.
If you are wandering into the Woody Hayes Athletic Center, take a gander at the far end
of the trophy case on the right. You will see an 8 X 10 of Les, Archie, Woody, Vic and
Hop. You might also see the photo being hawked in Long’s or other bookstores. But, it’s
our prize, and no one has, or can, ever match it.
We still have a few of the originals. Years later, then President Hal Maggied had some
autographed by Les, Archie and Hop. Woody had passed on and Vic was too sick to sign.
Our three autographs are originals and only five of these remain.
Old Earl passed on also a few years ago. He was followed by his love, Dolores. We’ll miss
them both. Whenever any of you out there think the job is too tough or the mountain too
high, remember old Earl. Get up in that pulpit, put a grin on your face, and never stop
until the deed is done. Go Bucks!