Art, idealism and eviction - make heads of this tale.

Byline: MARK BAKER The Register-Guard

CRESWELL - Whoever said that truth is stranger than fiction must have known a thing or two about "mobile hemi-busts."

And purple heads. And Paul Olum.

Yes, that Paul Olum, the former University of Oregon president who died two years ago at age 82.

A purple metal sculpture, fashioned by artist Michael Randles and purporting to represent the right side of Olum's head, stands in Chris Woodworth's yard next to the wrecking yard where it was brought and reassembled a couple of months ago.

"I'm living with the loss of self-esteem with this whole thing," Randles said. "I was thrown out on this street because of this whole thing."

This whole thing started in January 2001, soon after two men died that month.

Robert McCay of Creswell died Jan. 6, 2001. And Olum, who had no connection to McCay, died Jan. 19, 2001.

How, do you ask, does that have anything to do with the "Paul Olum Mobile Hemi-Bust?" And what is it doing here now?

Hang on.

Randles, 59, began building the sculpture, which stands more than 20 feet high, in the mid-1990s to honor Olum, UO president from 1980 to 1989.

"He refused to put pragmatism above idealism," said Randles, who had no idea what had become of his artwork until contacted by phone Thursday.

Told that it now stood in the yard of a Creswell woman, Randles said, "I don't know what to think."

For almost a decade, Randles lived in a warehouse at 3805 Janisse St. in west Eugene, just south of West 11th Avenue. It was there that he created the Olum piece - which sat in front of the Downtown Athletic Club for a year - and other artworks, he said.

McCay, his good friend and fellow artist, owned the land, Randles said, and the two had an agreement whereby Randles could live there if he helped take care of the property and surrounding wetlands.

But when McCay died, his brother in San Francisco became successor to his multimillion-dollar estate, Randles said, and he retained the Eugene law firm of Johnson, Clifton, Larson & Corson to oversee the estate that eventually, as was McCay's wish, was given in its entirety to an anti-nuclear charity, attorney Jay Clifton said.

Randles "had business dealings with Rob that were ill-defined," Clifton said. "We couldn't reach any kind of deal with Mike. We encouraged him to buy the property."

Unable to even pay rent, Randles said he was evicted last year. He fought the eviction but lost in court, he said, and was homeless for three months before a friend took him in.

He had no place to put the Olum piece, called a "hemi-bust" because it is just a half a head, the right half, representing Olum's creative side - his "idealism," he said.

Randles had big dreams for the piece. He wanted it to travel around the nation, if not the world. Do an Internet search on the "Paul Olum Mobile Hemi-Bust" and you'll see Randles' vision that ran in an online article in April 1999 in CultureWork, an electronic publication of the UO's Institute for Community Arts Studies.

The article shows what a finished version of the purple bust would look like in places such as downtown Chicago.

At the time of his eviction, Randles was negotiating with the UO to place the piece on campus, he said. Instead, he was homeless and removed from his artwork. He lost faith in himself, he said.

"When one stops believing in one's self ... strange things happen to your psyche," he said.

About two months ago, Wade Flag of Creswell, who runs a wrecking yard operation on Camas Swale Road, three miles west of downtown, got a call to haul away some scrap metal in west Eugene. He cannot remember who called him, he said. "When we got there it was just this large pile of purple stuff," Flag said. "We could see that there was a head."

Three pieces of purple metal. What could it be?

Flag and his partner hauled the pieces back to his wrecking yard and laid them out.

There was a laminated piece of paper on one of the pieces.

"The Paul Olum Mobile Hemi-Bust," it read. "Note: this is not a Jungle Gym or Bike Rack.

"No Climbing. No Loitering. No Camping. No Abusing. No Disfiguration. No Graffiti.

"If all rules w/regards to appropriate conduct are adhered to, all personal restraint and good judgment can be suspended. just enjoy the Sculpture."

Enjoy it Flag has. And so has Woodworth, his mother.

"This is one of the most interesting things they've brought in," Woodworth said Thursday afternoon as she looked up at the sculpture in her yard, which borders the wrecking-yard business that's filled with junked cars, scrap metal, car parts, machinery, tires and Dufus and Dipstick, Woodworth's dogs.

After hauling it home, Flag and his partner bolted the sculpture's three pieces back together and lifted it with a forklift.

"Then we stood in the driveway and watched people come by and stare at it," Flag said.

More than one passer-by has done a double take, Woodworth said. "A fella set up here on his motorcycle one day," she said, pointing to Camas Swale, a rural road where traffic rushes by at about 50 mph, "and watched for about 10 minutes."

You have to use a lot of imagination to see a resemblance to Olum, who worked on the Manhattan Project that created the first atom bomb, and who was known for a forthright manner that inspired students but rankled the state education officials who forced him into retirement.

Olum once saw the sculpture, said Judy Anderson of Sharon, Mass., who is the partner of Ken Olum, Paul Olum's son. "I think he was mildly amused being memorialized with this sort of odd sculpture," Anderson said.

Woodworth, who said her son is considering auctioning the sculpture off on eBay, said Randles can have the sculpture back "if the price is right."

When told that, Randles replied with sarcasm in his voice: "Isn't that sweet."

CAPTION(S):

Chris Woodworth says her family might try to sell the sculpture on eBay, but for the time being, it's caught a lot of attention from drivers on Camas Swale Road in Creswell. The piece was crafted as a tribute to former University of Oregon President Paul Olum.