Crestwood Gym Teacher

I was on an historical Northbrook Facebook page today and saw some photos of when Crestwood school was partially demolished before they transformed it into a long term care facility.  My attention immediately was drawn to the location of where the gymnasium use to be located.

The photo clearly showed the entire gym wiped from the face of the earth with just a partial wall still standing that connected to the school.  That particular wall was where the infamous wall tennis game was born.  Legend has it that Jeanne Weckler's brother invented the game and I have no reason to doubt this fact.

We spent endless summer days mashing a tennis ball against this wall.  The black asphalt surface was smooth and slick as you maneuvered around the playing field.  There were natural obstructions, like trees, that came into play and were dubbed hinderances and ultimately do-overs.  There were also built in flukes to the game, like hitting windows and brick ledges, that would be as lethal as any drop shot you could come up with.

But behind this wall, long after the school had closed, stood a cathedral of a once great gymnasium.  The gym served as the school wide gathering place for plays and concerts. It had an impressive stage complete with huge purple curtains that kept the Thesbian secrets intact.  The gym ceiling was very high with giant hvac diffusers that looked like UFOs.  It was in this very gym that an ex-military gym teacher named Mr. Hill presided.

Mr. Hill was young with dark hair and a beard.  He ran his gym classes like a friendly drill sergeant.  His classic organizational speech before doing any exercises contained the words, "spread out, arms length plus six inches".  He participated in both the exercises and the games.  One classic bombardment game had one of our classmates, Damian Chezhorski, actually catching one of Mr. Hill's throws.  Impossible at the time, but executed beautifully.

We participated in all sorts of games and I always remember having to collect all the gear at the end of class and stuff it into a small room adjacent to the gym entrance and make sure it was all locked tight.  And then one day, the door was closed for good.

Years later, after the school closed, we would sneak in late at night and walk amongst the leftover rubbish of a school that had gone the way of the Do Do Bird.  The cathedral that once was, now lay empty like a tomb with memories of a lifetime for some of us.

I thought about that gym today and Mr. Hill's name eventually popped into my head.  Somebody on that other site today mentioned a male gym teacher at Crestwood, and I was able to put a name to that teacher today, at least for posterity's sake.