Andy Friday died last week and I don’t know the details because I heard it from a friend of a friend who facebooks and another friend who is on facebook.
I was unable to retrieve a photo of Andy Friday from my photographic memory except this one that I tried to take of him and Banks at the Ballard Crit eleven years ago so I’m going to retrieve a few images of him from my actual photographic memory.
Andy wore a flannel shirt and sweatpants no matter the weather no matter the precipitation and sometimes he wore a pair of work gloves. He sometimes sported a carry-on style bag with a radio tied onto the strap. He rode bikes that were pieced together with seemingly incompatible parts, but he made them work. The classic Andy Friday bike was a road bike frame designed for 700c wheels with a 700 up front and a 26” in the rear with a flat bar and only a front brake because the calipers wouldn’t work on the rear wheel. He would ride the wrong way down one-ways directing traffic with authority pointing waving and scolding drivers in his deep voice.
When Andy was between messenger jobs there were times when you’d hear your name shouted out and turn to see him behind the wheel of a yellow Mercedes convertible. He’d tell a short story about this or that then be on his way.
Riding down a residential street one weekend I heard my name and stopped surprised to see Andy Friday chilling in a bathrobe on the front porch of a very large North Capitol Hill home. He was house sitting and had a few random stories.
Andy Friday was unusual comical opinionated and intense. He was unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. He will not be forgotten.