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Indianapolis Star
2 hours ago
- Indianapolis Star
LOST GYMS: 'When you watch the movie Hoosiers, it was all that here and more' in Freetown
FREETOWN – The origin of the Freetown gym — how it came to be, how it was utilized and how it remains a center of this quiet community of 370 people in Jackson County — is a story of small town Indiana and the state's growing love affair with high school basketball. The year was 1930. For several years previously, the Freetown basketball teams practiced on a dirt court in the schoolyard or in a small gym that had been converted for basketball by Sherman Berry, a local businessman. Berry, the owner of flouring mill in Waymansville, hired Freetown carpenters Bill Cornett and James Huber as engineers to construct the new gymnasium, built from the materials of the old Tobrocke flour mill. In 1930 and '31, during the height of the Great Depression, Freetown children watched their fathers haul the timbers into town and stack them next to Berry's sawmill, then construct the gym, complete with dressing rooms, showers and a furnace. 'It was as loud as any gym you would go to today,' said Russell Fritz, a 1955 Freetown graduate. 'I don't think you could hold a candle to the atmosphere here. When you watch the movie 'Hoosiers', it was all that here and more.' Berry owned the gym, renting it to Freetown for games and practices, along with neighboring Houston and Van Buren Township until it turning it over the school in 1948. The gym was not only a home for basketball, though. It hosted graduation commencements, proms and senior plays. During World War II, bond rallies were held in the gym. In 1944, when Freetown's own Robert McKinney was killed in action in Italy, hundreds attended his funeral service in the gym. 'I have often wondered what our town would have been like without the gym because so many things went on there,' Irene Forgey McNiece told the Jackson County Banner in 2003. 'You could call it Freetown's hub.' The 1924-25 team won the only sectional championship in Freetown history, helping to spur the need for a gym. Fred Brock took over as coach the following year and would later be succeeded by Edgar Sprague, a 1924 Freetown graduate who would go on to coach and teach in the Freetown system for 46 years. Freetown was home to several quality teams after the gym opened in 1931. For the 1947-48 season, upgrades were for an electronic scoreboard and expanded dressing rooms with showers in the basement of the building. Previously, the wooden scoreboard reflected only the minutes remaining. The timekeeper signaled the end of the game by firing a blank pistol or blowing a horn by mouth. Sprague coached Freetown from 1932 to 1948, missing three years due to his service in World War II. He was instrumental in bringing Crispus Attucks, all-Black Indianapolis school having difficulty scheduling games, to play games at Freetown (Freetown also played at Attucks). During games against rival Vallonia and Attucks, fans climbed the roof to watch the games through the windows. 'There were quite a few of them up there, too,' 1948 graduate Dean Zike said several years ago. 'Not everybody could get in those big games.' Attucks was not well known at the time as the powerhouse program it would become during the 1950s when the Tigers won three state championships and featured one of the state's all-time great players in Oscar Robertson. Years later, after Attucks won its second state championship, Attucks coach Ray Crowe was guest speaker at Freetown's athletic banquet. Fritz was not yet in high school at the time but was in attendance the night Attucks first came to play at Freetown. 'Fred Brock (then the principal) told them they could come down here,' Fritz said of Attucks, which also played small schools like Medora, Vallonia and Clearspring. 'This place was packed. They had people standing on the roof and looking in. They continued to play for several years because of the friendship between Ray Crowe and Fred.' That Freetown team, led by left-handed post player Bill Brown, finished 18-7 but lost by 20 points to Seymour in the sectional championship game. There was intermittent success to follow for the Spartans, who won the 1957 Jackson County championship — still noted on a sign on the outskirts of town. The next year, Freetown made it to the sectional championship but lost to host Seymour, 74-58, and finished 20-4. By the late 1950s, the Freetown gym was rarely used for home games. The Spartans mostly used the larger, more modern gym at Cortland. 'It was a pretty good gym compared to what everybody else had,' said Bill Mann, a 1953 graduate, said of the Freetown gym. 'It had a good floor in it. When you bounce the ball, it would bounce back to you. This was a good gym. You couldn't seat a lot of people but it seated enough I guess.' Freetown graduated its final class of 16 seniors in 1964 before consolidating into Brownstown Central. 'Nobody wanted the school closed because it was hard on the town,' Fritz said. 'The town goes downhill a little bit when you lose your school.' The gym remained. It continued to serve as a community hub for many years, undergoing a $550,000 renovation with the aid of a grant in 2003. The grant allowed the community repair the east side of the gym, which was beginning to collapse. 'Some people complained about (the renovation) when it was done, but they were glad after it was done,' Fritz said. 'That money was available for grants and we could apply for it, so that's what we did. It was well worth it. It's a good feeling that it's still around. Everything in today's society is just thrown away. It could have been torn down just as easily when we got the grant to have it done.' When the renovation was complete, Fritz said one former player — who was originally against the idea of refurbishing the gym — sat in a corner of the gym in tears when it was complete. 'He sat down there and just cried,' Fritz said. 'It was a good thing we did it. It will be good for a lot of generations, I think.' The Freetown Elementary School was closed in 2011, another tough blow to the small community. But the gym remains a constant source of pride, still hosting annual class reunions, family reunions and community events. And, yes, the occasional basketball game. Just like Sherman Berry, Bill Cornett and James Huber would have hoped nearly 100 years later. 'They are getting a lot out of it,' Mann said. 'It did a lot of good for the community.'
Los Angeles Times
a day ago
- Los Angeles Times
James Silcott, trailblazing Black architect who sued L.A. County over discrimination, dies at 95
James E. Silcott, a trailblazing Los Angeles architect who, thanks to many gifts to his alma mater, Howard University, became the most generous benefactor to architecture students at historically Black colleges in the U.S., died July 17 in Washington, D.C. He was 95. Silcott's memorial service took place on Saturday at Howard; he will be laid to rest in L.A.'s Inglewood Park Cemetery on Sept. 6. Silcott, who started in Los Angeles working for Gruen Associates alongside colleagues like Frank Gehry, made history as the first Black project architect for both Los Angeles County and UCLA. His successful legal battles with the county — he alleged that he had been unfairly terminated because of his race, and was later a victim of retribution for his lawsuit — shined a light on the entrenched barriers Black professionals faced in public institutions at the time. Born Dec. 21, 1929, in Boston, to parents from the Caribbean island of Montserrat, Silcott grew up in the city's Roxbury neighborhood during a time of limited opportunities for young Black people. Living in tenements and walk-ups, and making friends of all races and ethnicities, he learned self-reliance, resilience and cultural fluency, as he recounted in a 2007 oral history for Northeastern University's Lower Roxbury Black History Project. After graduating high school, he worked as a hotel cook alongside his father. 'I didn't know what I wanted,' he said. But an aptitude test at a local YMCA pointed him toward architecture. After being rejected from several architecture schools, he received a lifeline via Howard University in Washington, D.C. Silcott entered Howard — its architecture program was the first at a historically Black college to receive accreditation — in 1949. He came under the mentorship of Howard H. Mackey Sr., one of the most prominent Black architects and educators of the 20th century, known for instilling a sense of architecture's civic purpose. Silcott's studies were interrupted by three years in the U.S. Army during the Korean War, where he rose to the rank of sergeant. Returning to Howard, he earned his 5-year bachelor of architecture degree in 1957. Those years were marked by constant financial strain — often forcing him, as he put it, to decide 'whether to buy books or buy food' — an experience that would later drive him, as a donor to Howard, to ensure that future students wouldn't face that choice. He would never forget the role Howard played for him. 'He felt like when nobody else would take him, Howard took him,' said his niece Julie Roberts. 'He really credits them for laying the groundwork and setting the path and changing the trajectory of his life.' Silcott began his career working for architect Arthur Cohen in Boston before moving to Los Angeles — he always hated the cold, said his friends and family — in 1958. Joining Gruen Associates, one of the era's most influential firms, he, among other efforts, collaborated with Frank Gehry on the design of the Winrock Shopping Center in Albuquerque. He would soon work at UCLA's architectural and engineering office, becoming the school's first Black project lead on buildings like the UCLA Boathouse (1965), with its light-filled, maritime-inspired form — including porthole windows and an upper story deck for viewing races. Also at UCLA he collaborated with Welton Becket and Associates on the Jules Stein Eye Institute (1966), with its clean-lined facade of pale stone columns and glass walls that opened to natural light while maintaining shade and privacy. He later joined Los Angeles County's Department of Facilities Management, where he would become a senior architect and help oversee projects like the Inglewood Courts Building (1973, another collaboration with Becket) and Los Angeles County Southeast General Hospital (1971), eventually renamed Martin Luther King Jr. General Hospital. As the only Black architect working in the county, Silcott's good friend (and fellow Howard architecture graduate) Melvin Mitchell said he was not always welcome. 'None of those men could ever imagine someone of Silcott's race or color wielding that kind of power, despite the phony smiles and benign language used,' Mitchell said in his eulogy at Howard. At the end of the decade Silcott was demoted and later laid off during budget cuts — a move he contended was racially motivated. The county's Civil Service Commission eventually agreed, ruling in 1984 that he had been improperly terminated in order to preserve the jobs of white employees with less seniority, and ordering that he be reinstated with full back pay. 'I had to fight for my job just to make sure the rules were applied fairly,' Silcott told the Los Angeles Times. But the reinstatement was short-lived: within months, Silcott alleged that the county had retaliated by stripping away meaningful duties, among other retributions. 'They had him working in a closet at one time,' said Roberts. Later that year, the Board of Supervisors approved a roughly $1 million settlement offer to resolve his federal discrimination lawsuit. The Times noted that his case had 'become a rallying point' for those seeking greater equity in public employment. As Silcott later reflected, 'This was never just about me. It was about making sure the next Black architect who comes along doesn't have to fight the same battles.' Silcott would later work as an architectural consultant to public agencies and universities while serving on several public boards, including the South Los Angeles Area Planning Commission, the Los Angeles Cultural Heritage Commission, the Los Angeles Board of Zoning Appeals and the California State Board of Architectural Examiners. He built a stylish home in Windsor Hills, where he would regularly host family, not to mention mayors, council members, and, later, former President Obama, said Mitchell. In 1995 — retired as an architect — he took on minority ownership and a board seat at Kennard Design Group, one of the largest Black-owned architecture firms in the country, following the death of its founder (and Silcott's good friend) Robert Kennard. 'He didn't hesitate,' said Gail Kennard, Robert's daughter, who still leads the firm, and wanted to ensure the company's stability at a difficult time. 'He was always there to help. For advice, support, anything. Without hesitation he'd say, 'I'll do it.' He just had that generous spirit.' But Silcott's greatest love, noted Kennard, was Howard — particularly its Department of Architecture — where he would go on to become a historically prolific philanthropist, and help mentor generations of aspiring architects. 'He would tell me stories about people who were coming up in the profession,' said Kennard. 'He'd say, I found this new student and he or she's my new project.' Silcott's ability to support the school financially grew out of skillful real estate investments, which began with a few buildings in Boston that he inherited from his mother. He managed and expanded numerous properties both in Boston and Los Angeles. In 1991 he helped establish the James E. Silcott Fund, now valued at $250,000, offering emergency aid to Howard architecture students in financial distress. In 2002, he established the James E. Silcott Endowed Chair with an initial $1 million, bringing architects like Sir David Adjaye, Philip Freelon, Jack Travis and Roberta Washington to teach and mentor at Howard. And with a $1 million gift he funded the T. George Silcott Gallery, named for his late brother, providing a venue for exhibitions, critiques and public lectures. Silcott also made unrestricted contributions of hundreds of thousands more to Howard's Department of Architecture, supporting scholarships, travel fellowships and capital improvements. By the end of his life, his contributions to Howard exceeded $3 million, making him, according to the school, the largest individual donor to architecture programs at historically Black colleges and universities in the country. 'Howard and its school of architecture was at the very center of his life,' said Mitchell, who noted Silcott's gifts also helped keep the school afloat during difficult periods. Silcott received the Howard University Alumni Achievement Award, the Centennial Professional Excellence Award and the Howard H. Mackey Dean's Medal, named after his mentor. He also received the Kresge/Coca-Cola Award for philanthropy to HBCUs. In 2020, he was elevated to the AIA College of Fellows. After a stroke in 2020, Silcott moved to Washington, D.C., to be under family care. He was placed in hospice in 2022, and put on a feeding tube, but lived three more years against the odds, noted Roberts, one of seven close nieces and nephews who called him 'Uncle James.' 'He would not acknowledge that he wasn't going to live forever,' said Roberts. Silcott remained engaged with Howard until his death.
Boston Globe
a day ago
- Boston Globe
Even as Greater Boston becomes more racially integrated, income segregation continues to worsen, new report finds
'What we're kind of seeing is a tendency of more and more higher-income households to just self-isolate and live in neighborhoods or communities that are predominated by others like them,' said Jessica Martin, an independent researcher who co-authored the report. Related : In 2023, the Boston area's income segregation metric reached a high of 43 percent, meaning that that percent of Boston's low and high income households are living among others who share their income level. The percentage rose steadily from 1980, when the figure stood at 32 percent, to 2015, when the percentage reached 41 percent. Then, from 2015 to 2020, the figure dropped 3 percentage points to 39 percent, before increasing again by 4 percentage points to 43 percent in 2023. Advertisement High-income households are driving income segregation by moving into the same neighborhoods, the researchers found. As a result, lower income households are clustering together, but not by choice. The report found that since 2010, 29 percent of low-income households lived in neighborhoods where other residents are also low income, a percentage which has stayed fairly consistent. The percentage of high-income households living in among others who make the same income jumped from 7 to 15 percent in roughly the last 40 years. Advertisement Researchers point to a dearth of rental housing in some communities and the 'Communities that have almost no rental housing are, by definition, excluding low and moderate-income families who aren't able to afford the purchases of those homes, and because race and income are so intertwined, those housing policy decisions are one of the key reasons why we're so segregated,' said Luc Schuster, executive director of Boston Indicators and the report's co-author, who said income and racial segregation combine to form residential segregation. Boston has become more racially diverse in recent decades, with an influx of immigrants bringing more Hispanic, Asian, and Black communities to the area. This increase in diversity has led to more exposure, meaning that people of different groups are more likely to interact with one another, said Aja Kennedy, a research fellow at Boston Indicators and co-author of the report. 'This increase in exposure is driven a lot by diversity and not as much in different groups living in the same neighborhoods,' Kennedy said, meaning that while exposure has increased, neighborhoods themselves are not necessarily more likely to contain people of different groups. Instead, more diversity means people are more likely to interact with others belonging to different economic backgrounds. In 2020, Boston rose to a diversity index of 52 percent, a strong positive change since 16 percent in 1980. The diversity index refers to 'how likely it is that two people selected at random belong to different groups.' Advertisement In the Boston metro area, as defined by the US Census Bureau, from 1980 to 2020, the white population has steadily decreased over the decades, from 92 percent of the overall population in 1980 down to 67 percent in 2020, according to Boston Indicators' analysis. In that same timeframe, the Hispanic population had the largest growth, comprising just 2 percent of the area's population in 1980 to 12 percent in 2020. The Black population doubled in percentage, growing from 4 to 8 percent and the Asian population increased tenfold, from 1 to 10 percent in 40 years. According to the US Census Bureau, the Boston metropolitan area includes Boston, Cambridge, Newton and, in New Hampshire, Rockingham and Stafford counties. While the report was created as an educational tool, the authors hope that it can be used to further educate the population as well as policymakers on the importance of understanding how segregation impacts residents. 'I think one of the clearest policy avenues in addressing these issues is housing. Residential segregation is about where people live, and you can't choose to reside in a community that is not accessible to you,' said Schuster. This story will be updated. Katarina Schmeiszer can be reached at
