I met Birdman during the summer of '94. At the time the only other person piercing in Central Iowa was Gypsy at Last Impressions in Ames, IA. So we made the 30-minute trip to Ames to check out his studio and talk. At the time, Justin was working there, and we hit it off right away. He had an interest in anything different, and that was one of the things that would create the bond between us. He struck me right off the bat as the one that stood out not only in his art but also in his drive among the number of tattooists working there at the time. There are those artists that you meet and go, yup, another quick buck maker, and then there are those that you know have the drive and the abilities to stand out. Birdman, without a doubt, stood out as the latter.

In February 1995, I left Creative Images and founded Axiom. I had a tattoo artist named Kasper at first, who ended up leaving within two months of opening. One day, in May, Jay stopped by and asked for a job. He showed me his portfolio and drawings, and I was impressed, but due to a lack of space at the time, I just took his number. When Kasper didn't work out, I called him and he started at the studio on June 1st, 1995.

At the time, I was working a part-time job, and after helping him settle in and going over the basics, I headed to my second job. Jay who grown up in Winterset(Famous for the Bridges of Madison County) had really not experienced Gay culture. The old Studio was in the heart of the Gay area of Des Moines, so it was a bit of a culture shock to see the sidewalk out in front of the studio begin to fill with drag queens. I guess there was a drag show that night at the bar next door, The Blazing Saddle. When I phoned him later that night, he expressed not only his surprise but profound interest. This was a reassurance that I had chosen the right tattoo artist and would set a preference for us to work together. I think it was at that point that I really began to understand how interested he was in everything around him. Often, with artists, they lose the joy of detail and expression after tattooing for any length of time, but this wasn't the case with Jay. Over time, I knew that it only grew.

Working with Jay, the day would usually begin with him showing me the drawings he had made the night before. The one thing that always struck me about him was the amount of drawing he did, not just for tattooing but for the love of it. His second love was, without a doubt, photography. He took a large number of photos of the older buildings around the Studio, like the Teachout Building. It was as if he wanted to capture all the images around him, not only as a record, but also as a vision of how he saw it.

He had this way of being in touch with the world and those around him that was uncanny. He quickly became less of an employee and more of a friend because he had this ability to know something was wrong, no matter how much you tried to hide it. There were many nights that we would sit and talk about personal troubles and life's struggles, and as a person who tends to hide this side of myself, it was surprising that he could get me to open up. I told him some of the most painful feelings and experiences of my life that I have never told anyone else.

We both shared a great love for music, and of course, I gave him an education in the world of Punk Rock. He also played guitar, and we had talked at one point about maybe writing some songs. Additionally, he was fond of knives and had a collection of them. It was funny to me that someone who I couldn't imagine causing pain to anyone would carry not only one in his pocket but often one in his boot and on his hip. He would also bring in his blow dart gun every once in a while, and when it was slow, we would sit there and blow darts into a box at one end of the studio.

In the fall, I began to apprentice Dianne, and the two of them built a strong bond. I think it's the only time I've ever worked with any group of people that everyone got along. I can't remember once either of them bitching about the other. It was a special time in my life and the life of the Axiom. I often look back at this time as one of the most joyous times in my life. I miss them both greatly and wish I could go back to that time.

It was on an unusually warm February weekend when I left to visit a friend in Lawrence, KS. I remember sticking around the studio later than usual that night and hanging out with Jay and his mother. Jay was finishing up a calf piece on his mother, Sandy, of an American Indian. We joked and talked about life, and I left around 1 to head home, saying my goodbyes and telling him I'd see him on Wednesday. That would be the last time I would see him alive. He had been having some health problems, but seemed better, and I never gave it a second thought.

I was heading home from Kansas City and decided to give Dianne a call to make sure everything was okay. She answered and was crying. It took a few minutes to get out of her what was wrong, and then the two-hour drive back to sink in what had happened. I mean, I was 26 at the time, and death then and now just seems so far away. Jay was only 23, and it just seems impossible that he would be gone. I remember driving home and thinking of all the people I knew who had left a much smaller impression on my life than he had. The death of someone you care for is brutal to take, but the death of someone you care for who is so young is impossible to take. It was simply hard to understand. There was no period of realizing that the person's time was too short. This was a healthy person, and this wasn't a car wreck or a violent end. This was something that could be considered a natural cause.

He died of an embolism, a blood clot that had traveled into his lungs. The day before his death, he had gone to the hospital complaining of shortness of breath. Due to his heaviness, the doctor assumed it was heart problems. So instead of running a blood gas test, they gave him an EEG. Of course, there was nothing wrong with his heart. Maybe if he had told them about the bruise on his leg from a fall, the doctor would have put two and two together, but would you think that a bruise had anything to do with breathing problems? This hit Dianne hardest because she is an RN and felt that she should have known, but in hindsight, none of us could have saved him.

Justin was born on April 19, 1972, and left us all on February 20, 1996. We put him to rest on February 23rd, but he lives on not only in the memory of all those he touched but in his art that we will proudly carry to our own graves. We all headed up there to pay our respects. Dianne, Paul, Lanny, and I. Each year, wherever Lanny, Paul, and I are on the 20th of February, we do a shot of Wild Turkey (Jay's Favorite) and I think of all the things that have happened since then and not been able to share. Jay, I miss you, but I'll never be able to forget you.

Below are some of the comments left by Jay's friends in the past. If you would like to go one too as a tribute, please do so.

Ten Years After...

Submitted by Anonymous on Tue, 12/16/2008 - 22:47.

In Loving Memory of Justin "J" Crawford. I put an article and his picture in the Winterset paper in 2006, ten years after he left us to graduate to Heaven. Now it is almost 13 years.

I wrote these words to him:

It seems like yesterday ... and it seems like a lifetime ago. My son. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and your dying was the worst. Nothing has even been the same, and never will be again.

Life is very hard. It is a continuous lesson learned, although it is surely uncertain at the time the reasons we must learn them.

I can always feel you in my heart. Your friends and family, all those whose lives you touched in any way will always be enriched just for having known you. Thoughts of you will always make us smile.

I thank God for you. And I thank you for watching over me, my guardian angel. There aren't enough words to tell you how much I love you and miss you.

A wise person once told me, "If anyone knows what it feels like to lose His only Son, it is God." I find great solace in that.

Love and Peace,

Mom

Sandie Crawford Welcher

Dear Davo - Thank you so much for keeping this site for him alive and well. I always cry when I read it. But that's o.k., it's a good thing to cry sometimes, and sometimes you just can't help it. God bless you, dear friend.

Justin

Submitted by Anonymous on Sat, 12/20/2008 - 12:33.

I did not know Justin but I met Sandie on the internet. I can see she raised an admirable son. I wish I had known him. Aunt B

Jay's mother

Submitted by Anonymous on Sat, 02/13/2010 - 13:16.

Jay's mother is with Jay now, she departed on 2/10/2010.

She is with her son.