Washington (Old) (4,000) Built 1925
January 17, 2025
January 17, 2025
I think I wrote one time about how I'm able to feel some sort of connection to every decade dating back to the the 1930s. This might seem dumb considering I was born in 1994, but I think it's because I've heard enough firsthand stories about those bygone eras from my parents, uncles and aunts, and grandparents over the years. When it comes to gyms, that really only leaves one decade that feels more distant, the 20s. Indiana high school basketball dates back even further than this to 1911, but gyms weren't really built solely for the purpose of playing basketball until the 20s. In the 1910s, games were played in large assembly halls inside schools, above storefronts in downtown buildings, barns, and old armories. The 1910s and 20s feel like a lifetime ago, probably because they are! I was fortunate enough to grow up knowing my great-grandpa. He was born in 1908 and passed away at the age of 100 years old (his older siblings lived to be 106 and 107 respectively!). I once asked him if he played basketball growing up in the 1910s and 20s, and he said he was too busy farming. Again, it was just a different time. Many kids back then had more real life responsibilities than some adults do today. When Kyle Neddenriep wrote Historic Hoosier Gyms back in 2010, he was able to talk to people who grew up in the 20s and played in the 40s. That's not possible anymore. I would love to hear from people who grew up going to games in the earliest days of our earliest gyms. Those memories are largely lost, with only a precious few accounts of them written down.
One of the few schools that had their earliest basketball legends well-documented was Washington. This is largely because they found an immense amount of success early on, and did so in ways that even broke down barriers. I touched on some of that success and the storylines that went along with it when I wrote about Washington's magnificent current gym HERE. The current Hatchet House is synonymous with southern Indiana basketball. It rightfully hosts every single round of the state tournament leading up to the finals. What many people don't realize though is that right around the corner is another Hatchet House, the original. It's older, a little bit smaller, but has just as much aura to it. It was home to the earliest triumphs of the Washington Hatchets (all-time mascot name). David DeJernett and Marion Crawley made their names here. It had been on my list for a long time to come see. When I made my yearly trip down to Daviess County back in January, I finally got the chance. The games I watched on Friday and Saturday night that weekend were at Loogootee and Jasper, two fantastic facilities. But if I'm being honest, this place was the one I was most excited about finally checking off the list.
I mentioned that this place is smaller than the current Hatchet House, which is true, but man does it still look grand from the outside. The best way I can describe it is looming. It towers over the street right in front of it. "Washington Gymnasium" is inscribed in light, clear letters across the top, with a funky little "1925" insignia carved in stone right above it. There are similar adornments on the upper corners of the facade facing the street. It's beautiful. I was able to pop inside and take a few pictures while a junior high team was practicing. The first thing that struck me is how intact it is. The original balcony, which is the centerpiece, has been left untouched and still circles the gym in its entirety. The ancient steps that zig zag upward at odd angles are all still there. It's pristine. Let's start with that gorgeous balcony. You can reach it by using steps that reside in all four corners of the gym. The stairs are all wooden, and they go up a few steps before turning sharply, then another few steps, and then another sharp turn, They work their way up in this winding fashion until you reach the top. The stairs are so unique that there are even little alcoves and storage spaces built out in a couple of them. The entrances from the stairs to the balcony are narrow little tunnels that almost look like what you walk out of when you're in the upper level of a baseball stadium. Once up there, you'll find 8 rows of permanent grey wooden bleachers that surround the whole gym. There are even a couple of rows that run above the entrance tunnels at the very top. There are a few sections of steps and a couple random handrails, but most of the time you're just walking on the bleachers themselves to get around. The bleachers aren't as steep as in the old Loogootee balcony, and the front row isn't quite as terrifying, but it's not a cake walk either. The views are awesome, but I was glad to get my feet back on solid ground when I was done taking a few pictures up there.
Light shines through the windows along the upper sideline walls illuminating what's below. There is additional seating along the lower sidelines in the form of retractable wooden bleachers, 5 rows on one side and about 11 on the other. A long slanted sign with "Washington Hatchets" written across it in gold letters against a black background crosses the top of the smaller section of bleachers. The baseline wall sitting under the balcony by the attached school has "Hatchet Pride" written across it. The baseline end that faces the street is a little more interesting. The three main doors to the gym sit across this wall of the gym. In between the outer two doors and the middle doors are two small seating sections with a few rows of permanent wooden bleachers. They sit up about six feet off the ground and are reached by climbing the bottom steps of some of the stairs that go up to the balcony in the corners. They're pretty unique seats. There's a banner hanging recognizing some past junior high athletic teams on this end as well. When I was there, the scorer's table had been rolled over into one of these corners. It's simple but says "Welcome to the Hatchet House" on it with the Hatchet logo in the middle. It's pretty sharp. The playing floor is stained a light tan color and is pretty plain. It only has "Washington" written across one baseline and "Hatchets" across the other.
I feel like I should have more words to describe a gym as special as this. Maybe I'm finally winning my war with being more concise (unlikely). Maybe it's because the place is fairly symmetrical and doesn't have a ton of oddities to describe other than those stairs and the two little odd sections of seating. Whatever the reason, I hope my words along with the pictures do a decent job showing why so many people in the community had a hard time moving out of this facility in 1966, even though the new gym was so grand. This place feels like hallowed ground. I always feel weird when people describe Hoosier Hysteria and Indiana high school basketball as a "religion," but I understand the sentiment. It means so much to people, myself included. If you haven't read Historic Hoosier Gyms yet, I encourage you to find a copy and read the entry that Kyle included about this gym. He concludes it by quoting one of the men he interviewed who played here in the 40s. The man said, "I bet if you walked in there at night, you could hear the whispers." I was in the gym at 11:00 in the morning while a coach was shouting instructions to his players and the squeaking of sneakers echoed through the gym. I still felt like I could hear them. They're not ghosts, but the memories left behind that are trying to be heard, if we'll only take the time to listen.
