Drew grounded in faith, family and Hahira
By CARROLL ROGERS
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
2/24/04
Hahira -- J.D. Drew's parents still live in the one-story beige brick house he grew up in outside the tiny South Georgia town of Hahira.
Out Old Highway 41, past front porch swings and cow farms, is the yard where J.D. took swings off his younger brother Tim, while their sibling Stephen, a diaper-clad pinch runner, went from one sycamore tree to the next.
The front yard contained Jonathan Drew -- or J.D. when his mother needed his attention quickly -- for only so long. Then it was on to the cow pasture across the street, then the Valdosta Boys and Girls Club, Lowndes County High, Florida State and eventually ballparks across the National League. The Braves traded for Drew from the St. Louis Cardinals in December, bringing him as close to home as he can get as a major leaguer.
Drew's career has been defined by a notorious contract holdout with the Phillies and a series of injuries with the Cardinals, including a knee injury the Braves will be careful about this spring. But playing now in the context of his South Georgia upbringing, J.D. Drew, 28, might come to be better known by the values he was raised on -- Christian faith, family, hard work, hunting, fishing and baseball.
"I look up to him more than anyone else on this earth," said Tim, 25, a former first-round pick by the Indians and a non-roster invitee pitcher to Braves camp. "He works hard in whatever he does. He's kept a level head. I say that not only because he's my brother, but because he's a good man. He knows it's not about him; it's about relationships with people one-on-one and his faith in Christ."
J.D. Drew liked playing in St. Louis, but the trade means his parents can watch him play in person as many times in a few months as they saw him play in five years. Hahira is halfway between Atlanta and Lake Buena Vista, Fla., where Drew and the rest of the Braves hold their first full-squad workout today.
"That was one of the great benefits of the whole thing," Drew said. "All the trade talk had some wear and tear on me. . . . [But] it couldn't have worked out any better."
Back to his roots
He plans to build a house on 12 acres five miles from his parents' home.
"It's where all my roots are at," he said. "All my friends. That's just what I call home. I love the small-town life."
Hahira is a one-stoplight town. Population: 1,626. Depending on whom you ask, the name Hahira is a biblical reference to a place near the Red Sea -- Pi-Hahiroth -- or orginated from a Native American named Hira whom locals greeted with "hey."
There's not much more to it than some businesses where Church and Main streets cross at City Hall -- a Dollar General, the Honey Bee Splash Wash, a Subway restaurant.
At City Cafe, manager Constance Davis sings gospel music as she cooks lunch of fried chicken and veggies. There's a replica of the "Last Supper" painting on the wall. There's also a sign that reads: "TEENAGERS: TIRED OF BEING HARASSED BY YOUR PARENTS? ACT NOW!! MOVE OUT. GET A JOB. PAY YOUR OWN BILLS WHILE YOU STILL KNOW EVERYTHING."
Libby and David Drew never had to worry about getting their sons out of the house. J.D. used to ride his bike 11 miles to his uncle's house just to tag along on bird hunting trips.
Cable didn't reach the Drews' house until J.D. was 18, so he didn't watch much TV -- Braves baseball or otherwise. He played football and baseball with his brothers and friends. He fished.
"I never had to tell them, 'Go outside and play,' " Libby said.
By 9, J.D. was working summers on his grandfather's farm for $15 a day, daylight to dark. He drove the tractor, stripped tobacco and fed livestock, among other things.
"That taught me a lot about character and what life's all about," Drew said. "That's some extremely hard work. . . . That teaches you the value of a dollar."
Drew's parents worked throughout his childhood -- his father at a boat manufacturing plant and his mother at the elementary school library.
"J.D. knows what it was to come up rough," David Drew said.
He also came up determined. He was about 12 when he told his mother he'd be a big leaguer some day. He used to staple-gun her good bedsheets to the back porch and hit balls into them. He hit in a neighbor's backyard batting cage. He stayed after high school games to hit, even Friday or Saturday nights. He came home with his hands bloodied from gripping a bat.
That same determination -- and yes, he agrees, stubbornness -- characterized Drew in his first contract negotiations.
His parents remember the night during his senior year at Lowndes County High School when he pondered an offer from the Giants, who had chosen him in the 20th round. Convinced he should be a higher pick and excited about going to Florida State, Drew decided to reject a $100,000 offer -- about four times his father's salary -- after 15 minutes in his room.
"When he tells you something, it's done," Libby said.
As a junior at FSU, Drew was drafted second overall by the Phillies. He sought a $10 million bonus; the Phillies were offering $3 million. Drew didn't sign, inviting the wrath of Phillies' fans, opposing pitchers in the independent Northern League where he played that summer, and even some major leaguers.
Drew's mild manner and work ethic won over his St. Paul Saints teammates. For support and prayer, he called on the baseball chaplain at FSU, Clint Purvis.
"I'd send him stuff in the mail to encourage him, call him on his cell phone and pray with him," said Purvis, who remains close to Drew. "Money wasn't the driving force. It was more the ethics of the situation. . . .
"If it was about money and only money, he'd be hoarding it. He supports a lot of Christian organizations people don't know about."
With the Saints, he lived on $700 a month, sleeping on a sleeping bag in the laundry room of an apartment he shared with teammates. He hit .341 with 18 homers and 50 RBIs in 44 games.
Embraced in St. Louis
In the next year's draft, he was chosen fifth overall by the Cardinals and signed a contract worth $8.5 million. He was called up later that year and hit .417 in 14 games. Cardinals fans embraced him. His greatest disappointment has been injuries, with six trips to the disabled list in five years.
"[Contract fallout] is still there in the background; it comes with the territory," said Drew, who signed a $4.2 million, one-year deal with the Braves. "But everything works itself out. . . . I was hurt so much in St. Louis, people didn't really focus on it."
To the Drew family, no contract has changed J.D.
"He's just my brother," Tim Drew said. "Goes hunting, stays to himself. He's made good money in the game; you wouldn't know he made $5."
Drew was married in 2001 at the church near his parents' house, by his FSU chaplain, in a sanctuary he helped finance. His wife, Sheigh, is the daughter of his former youth leader.
He prefers a private life but doesn't mind being public about his Christian message.
"[Baseball] is definitely an opportunity to have some sort of a podium," said Drew, who doesn't drink, smoke or curse. "Some people you try to have an impact on, be as courteous as you can. Sometimes it's not as easy. There's always a lot of demand. But you try to carry yourself and be an example."
Drew owns a Hummer, but his parents say he logs more miles on the pickup he keeps in Hahira. His prize possession is his 2-year-old Labrador, Drake, who doesn't mind waking at 5 a.m. to go hunting.
"If it was just me and him, I'd have a great time," Drew said. "When it's all said and done, I've always kind of been a shy guy, kind of [like to] get away on my own."
The closer to home, the better.