Lebanon (Old) (2,200) Built 1931
July 25, 2024
July 25, 2024
Have you ever walked into a place and instantly been overcome with a sense of awe or wonder, like you can physically feel the weight of importance in a place? When I walked onboard Old Ironsides in Boston as a teenager, or the battlefields in Gettysburg, or Independence Hall in the room where the Declaration of Independence was signed, I remember that feeling rushing throughout my entire my body. It's probably where my love for history started. There's just a sense of deep reverence in some places that you can't shake. Lebanon, Indiana isn't the site of any famous national tragedies or triumphs, but it is the place where one of the greatest maestros of roundball did his work for many years. It's the home of what's widely regarded as the first family of basketball in our state. When I walked up the short ramp into the old gym, I truly felt something I never have walking into a gym before. I'm used to feeling nostalgic in these places, but this was different. There was a palpable feeling of veneration for what had come to pass in that place. This place may not top the overall list, but it definitely overtook me emotionally in a way I wasn't prepared for.
Looking at the old Lebanon gym from the outside corner entrance, it looks like something straight out of an old Hallmark movie if it was made about Indiana high school basketball, which makes sense since the gym actually was used for a short scene in Hoosiers. It's a classic brick building with high rectangular windows topped with a semicircle section of glass. The surrouding high school has been turned into apartments, but the gym has been basically untouched since it was last used by the immortal Rick Mount. It ceased to be used for Lebanon High games only 2 years after he graduated in 1966. His father also played in the gym during the 40s. Rick famously spent countless hours morning, noon, and well into the night refining what is known as the purest jump shot in Indiana history. The most mesmerizing feature of the gym is the giant mural that now canvassas the entire area where the old curtain used to be above the stage behind one baseline. The speckle-style art pays homage to various facets of the old Lebanon High, including the 1912 state championship and Rick Mount himself. It's unlike any other mural you'll find in a gym and requires detailed viewing to catch all the intricacies woven throughout it. The stage area has a wooden facade underneath it and a beautiful brick pattern framing the rest of the perimeter. The brick that makes up the wall behind and the rest of the gym has multicolored shades of brown that makes for a magnificent backdrop.
The gym as a whole is set up in the classic horshoe configuration with the stage taking up the fourth side. There is permanent wood seating going up 12 rows along each sideline and one baseline. The bleachers sit up on tiny risers just like the Pleasantville gym and are a little lighter shade than most bleachers from this era. In the two corner entrances within the horsehoe, the bleachers continue above with a few rows looking down onto the entrance ramps. These are always the coolest sections of any gyms in which you can find them. Above them are quaint, smaller, rectangular windows. The other entrance that is along the stage wall juts out at an angle into the bleachers, so they do not stretch all the way to the baseline in that area. An old scoreboard sits above this spot, otherwise the walls are pretty bare (which is perfectly appropriate in an old building such as this). The last notable thing to mention about the bleachers is the original scorer's table that is still present at center court.
Looking skyward and towards the playing floor in the gym, you'll notice a few different things. There's nothing particularly special about the roof, but there are four different wooden practice baskets descending from the rafters which isn't always common in gyms from this era. There's a tiny brick room built into the top of the bleachers directly opposite of the stage that almost seems like it would have been a press box, but only the sightlines out of it are small square holes which doesn't make any sense. Functionally it looks more like a movie projector room, which also doesn't make any sense. It's a mystery to me, but an intriguing one at that. The hardwood floor is original, and they mercifully kept the original, simple golden "L" at centercourt within a cream-colored background. It's one of the lighter floor shades you'll find in an old gym. Inexplicably, "Indiana" and "Purdue" are written with their respective colors in big letters across each baseline which was definitely something added after the gym stopped being used for high school games. It's the only thing that feels out of place or reminds you that you're not presently in the middle of the 20th century. Walking out of the gym you can find the original ticket booths and blueprints for the building which are really neat to see.
I can't tell you exactly why this place moved me in the way that it did. Maybe it's because I had pretty high expectations going into the visit and it managed to actually somehow exceed them. It might be the history, the classic design, or the fact that the natural light streaming through the windows makes everything look gleaming and golden. At first I literally just stood at half court and stared all around for a couple minutes without moving. Then I took one quick picture and sent it to my wife because I had to share my excitement with someone. I'm going to keep chasing that feeling, because there's nothing quite like it.
