The way she described it, "a portly, graying man in a suit was standing at her door. He tipped his hat and introduced himself as Woody Hayes." Now, it should be noted that in 1968, Woody Hayes was perhaps the most famous man in Ohio. But there were still some Ohioans who did not follow sports and who did not immediately know who Hayes was. Marie Ballard, the soldier's mother, evidently was one of these people: "She knew the man had a name she should recognize, but she couldn't place it," Robert Ryan said.
Hayes told Mrs. Ballard that he had just visited her son in the hospital in Vietnam, and had promised the young man he would let his family know he was all right. Hayes had come to the house to do just that, and to bring photos of Paul Allen Ballard. So Mrs. Ballard invited him in though she still didn't know who he was, and she asked him what he did for a living. "I'm a football coach up at the university," Hayes said.
He spent 15 minutes filling Mrs. Ballard in on her son, and left the pictures with her. It turned out that Hayes had been in Vietnam under the auspices the State Department, and had visited Ohio boys, especially those in hospitals, so that he could serve as a courier to their families back home. He had wanted no publicity about this; volunteer student drivers from Ohio State took him all around Ohio so that he could call on the families.
"I find this story to be a towering measure of the real Woody Hayes," Robert Ryan said. "I'll tell you this, there's at least one family who will never forget what he did." I hear stories like that about Hayes all the time. Since his death in 1987, I have run into dozens of people who were touched by his private acts of kindness, acts of kindness that were never reported.
On Christmas Eve I was in Columbus, and I called Anne Hayes, Woody's widow, to wish her the best of the season. I told her the story that Robert Ryan told me. "Yes, I know," she said. "It was very important to Woody to visit those families. He said that the boys were making such a sacrifice, it was the least he could do."
I reminded her of the "paying forward" line. "He wouldn't want to take credit for that," she said. "One of his favorite essayists was Ralph Waldo Emerson, it was from Emerson's writings that he learned the concept of paying forward. Woody wouldn't want to claim it as his own."
Wherever he learned it, he learned it well. So many people try in vain to determine and control their own legacy. Woody Hayes seemed to have figured it out: Pay forward, and everything else will take care of itself.