Film Fills In Picture of 'Fennville Flash'

By Ron Pesch
MHSAA historian

December 28, 2017

We’ve been here before, but not in this way.

The last time was for a retrospective, covering one of the most impressive and awe-inspiring prep careers in Michigan high school history. That time was in print, and included a handful of still images that tried to illustrate the unbelievable.

But this time, the story is in documentary form. It’s woven together from grainy, scratched, faded silent film, a format of capturing memories familiar to thousands of people from generations past, as well as a series of modern-day high-resolution interviews. 

Here, the basketball life of the athlete known as the “Fennville Flash” delivers on many levels. Yes, there is a Richie Jordan.

JordanVille, a documentary by John Mooy & Anne Colton, recalls a time when legend spread via word of mouth, newsprint and AM radio.

While it’s hard to comprehend for many today, the exploits of our athletic heroes were formed by “poets in the press box” who sat with pencil and paper, a typewriter, a microphone or a telephone, and described to their audience what they witnessed. On the receiving end, readers and listeners conjured up visualizations based on the facts, phrases and superlatives designed to create an image.

“Traveling left to right on your radio dial” helped listeners feel they were a member of the crowd, seated in the stands, in on the action and a witness to the mayhem. “Packed to the rafters,” reminded fans the importance of what was happening. An exciting game, presented by those with skill, created an event you longed to see. If a broadcast couldn’t be picked up on a transistor or tube radio, the final result might not be known, at the earliest, until the following day’s newspaper arrived.

I’ve told Jordan’s story via the MHSAA before; how he latched on to athletic training, weights and repetition to mold himself into a well-rounded athlete, able to leap to heights unexpected for a kid with a 5-foot-7 frame. The tales of his unfathomable accomplishments slowly leaked beyond the city limits of Fennville into Kalamazoo and greater Southwestern Michigan, then to Detroit. When Detroit Free Press writer Hal Schram relayed Jordan’s feats, the secret traveled across the state and beyond its drawn borders.

From there the legend of Jordan’s accomplishments grew. In Fennville, as in many small towns across the country, the city shut down when a game was played. The Jordan story was so enticing that thousands would travel vast distances to see him play with their own eyes. Today, his single season scoring average of 44.4 points per game during the 1964-65 campaign still remains the top mark in the MHSAA record book.

JordanVille runs just shy of a half hour. Contained within is insight into the athlete that is challenging to relay in print form. Thanks to access to home movies and a series of interviews with Jordan, former teammates, past opponents and his high school coach, the determination, dedication and drive of a kid who wouldn’t let physical size be a deterrent from achievement radiates from the screen. On display is small town America at its finest, and perspective formed over 50+ years.

For Mooy, it completes a filmmaking journey started six years ago. But the story of Jordan, in his eyes, date back to his school days. Mooy first heard about Jordan as a 7th-grader from a math teacher. A second-team all-St. Joseph Valley League selection, Mooy played at Marcellus High School and scrimmaged against Jordan and the Fennville Blackhawks.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Everyone wanted to see this kid play,” said Mooy in 2011. “He was the first high school player I saw sign an autograph.

Today, with the interviews complete, and the film ready for viewing, Mooy sees more than just a sports story:

“With the benefit of years now passed, I look at the Rich Jordan story with a new respect. JordanVille created a place that was welcoming no matter who you were, or what color your skin happened to be. It was the 1960s. Rich was growing up Jewish, the Civil Rights Movement was in full swing, and the Vietnam War was on everyone's mind. And in Fennville, Michigan, from 1961 to 1965, the Jordan high school years, there were lessons beyond sports being learned by everyone that would last a lifetime. The Jordan household, under the guidance of (his parents) Tuffy and Sylvia Jordan, is where the story begins."

The film speaks of a time that has departed. Competition for our attention was less focused; phones hung on walls or sat on tabletops, communities were tighter, the training table featured peanut butter and chocolate milk instead of protein powder. A city could easily be renamed for a day.

The film also reminds us that those days were far from perfect.

If all goes as planned, the public will see the finished product come the flip of the calendar. In West Michigan, JordanVille is scheduled to show on New Year’s Day at 6 p.m. on WGVU, and will repeat on WGVU-Life at 7:30 p.m., Friday, Jan. 5.

Seek it out, and spread the word, just like in days of old.

Ron Pesch has taken an active role in researching the history of MHSAA events since 1985 and began writing for MHSAA Finals programs in 1986, adding additional features and "flashbacks" in 1992. He inherited the title of MHSAA historian from the late Dick Kishpaugh following the 1993-94 school year, and resides in Muskegon. Contact him at [email protected] with ideas for historical articles.

PHOTOS: (Top) Richie Jordan runs Fennville's offense during his thrilling high school career in the 1960s. (Middle) Jordan memorabilia, as captured by Bill Williams.

Longtime Coach Researches Photos to Tell Story of Grand Rapids Sports' Past

By Steve Vedder
Special for MHSAA.com

September 16, 2022

GRAND RAPIDS – Bob Schichtel always pauses when he comes across the ancient black and white photo long enough to ponder whatever became of the two youngsters adorned in Grand Rapids Union basketball uniforms.

The posed shot shows two players facing each other in a local gymnasium in a photo apparently taken four days after the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941 that launched the country into World War II. Only a handful of fans today would recognize the players' striped, ultra-short shots and simple sleeveless shirts with "Union" emblazed across the front as recognizable basketball uniforms. One holds a battered-looking basketball, while the other looks on. The two players, whose uniform numbers are "4" and "9," aren't really smiling, but still seem as close as any teammates, whether 81 years ago or today.

In fact, it's the look the youngsters share that intrigues Schichtel, whose thankless, pro bono job it is to identify the two players.

"Once you start," said Schichtel, a former longtime Grand Rapids basketball coach, "it's like looking down a deep rabbit hole."

Longtime area coach Bob Schichtel researches hundreds of photos that are part of the Grand Rapids Public Library archive. Schichtel works as a volunteer for the Grand Rapids Public Library trying to identify mostly former Grand Rapids City League basketball players from approximately 1938 through the early fifties. The online photos are mostly from the Robinson Photo Studio Collection taken in conjunction with the Grand Rapids Herald newspaper. The library says the unique collection spans some 950 basketball negatives from the entire Robinson/Herald collection that totals well over 900,000 Grand Rapids photos.

While the work – which amounts to a ton of patience combined with a detective ability – can be exhausting, it's still what Schichtel describes as a labor of love. For example, there's the shot of the two still-unidentified Union players. Schichtel looks at the photo and can't help but wonder whatever happened to the kids. Were they exceptional athletes? Did they leave their marks on Grand Rapids history, whether it was in education, politics, business, industry, the arts or another field? He doesn't even know, as in many photos from this era, whether the two entered the military and thus even survived World War II.

Schichtel has searched everywhere for the answers, but has come up short. Too many times, in fact.

Which isn't to say he'll quit looking or chalk up his research as inconsequential. Schichtel said the foremost reason he spends hours on the project is that many of the athletes he identifies deserve the recognition for achievements far beyond basketball. In many cases former City League basketball, football, baseball, track and tennis athletes became the foundation on which Grand Rapids was built. If Schichtel can uncover an old photo which depicts these youngsters during their high school careers, so much the better, he said.

"It's important to recognize Grand Rapids sports history, and I don't know if we've given enough attention to their past," Schichtel said. "They are what got us here, and I'm a firm believer they need to be recognized for it."

Figuring out that history, however, ranges from, at the least, extremely time consuming to – in too many frustrating cases – virtually impossible. The City League was formed in the late 1920s and featured original schools Grand Rapids Central, Creston, South, Union, Ottawa Hills, Catholic Central and Davis Tech. The league was eventually folded into the Ottawa-Kent Conference in 2008. 

"It was a long, evolving league," Schichtel said.

Schichtel has identified these 1941 Grand Rapids Ottawa Hills basketball players as James Horn (left) and Chuch Reynier. The identification tools available to Schichtel are actually more numerous than most would suspect. For starters, he's formed an impressive database of information by pouring through old City League yearbooks and programs, photos from other collections and microfilm of old newspapers, And then there's also the knowledge gathered by Schichtel himself, a 1968 Grand Rapids Catholic Central graduate. After playing in many old City League gymnasiums, Schichtel went on to compile a 389-197 record in 27 years as the Cougars girls basketball coach. He uses countless City League contacts as both a player and coach to identify athletes. In all, Schichtel taught in the Grand Rapids school system for 34 years.

He also uses the game itself to identify the photos. For instance, he can pinpoint some photos simply by the styles of the uniforms worn by players. He also figures out who is who by other clues such as what the players are doing in the photo. If a player is taking a set shot in the photo, it's likely pre-World War II. The beginnings of the jump shot, or what Schichtel calls "elevation while shooting," is probably mid-1940s. In addition, Schichtel can identify photos through pure basketball athleticism. Players can look a bit awkward in shots from the thirties as compared to players from the late 1940s who were beginning to play with a more obvious flare.

Put all the information together and Schichtel, who has uncovered more than two dozen personal connections to subjects in the photos, believes he has a reasonable shot at identifying them.

Since he signed on with the project, Schichtel figures he's identified about 10 percent of the photos he's viewed. Among the City League athletes he's found shots of Central's John Lavan, who was born in 1890 and played Major League Baseball during the Babe Ruth era and became a military hero who is buried in Arlington National Cemetery; Creston basketball player Roger Wilkins, an assistant United States attorney general during the Watergate hearings; Art Spoelstra of Godwin, a former NBA player and member of the Grand Rapids Hall of Fame; and Grand Rapids native Bill Cutler, who turned a chance post-World War II meeting with then-American League president Will Harridge into a position as commissioner of the Pacific Coast League,

Schichtel said gaining information through photos on the people who became the bedrock of Grand Rapids should be celebrated.

"I think it's a great approach for the community; they shouldn't be forgotten," Schichtel said. "Who else is going to do this? Why do I do it? I see a certain, for lack of a better word, a nobility. These kids played for the love of game, and they became the “Greatest Generation.” These kids did great things. It's not just, 'Well, there's No. 58,’ in a photo.

"You want to know more about them. That's the real intrigue for me."

Schichtel identified Grand Rapids South High’s “Fireman Five” of, from left, Fred Esslair, Lee Morrow, Jack Carroll, Bob Youngberg and Bruce Bigford. Tim Gloege of the Grand Rapids Public Library said the collection of photos – and their identification – is continually growing. As more people log onto the library's website, more people want to either add to the collection or have information that leads to an identification. The library estimates about 1,200 photos are searched monthly. But as time grows, many of the original photos are disintegrating. The library is in a constant state of preservation, Gloege said.

"It's a massive project, and we're working to get as many photos online as possible," he said. "The numbers (of photos) we have are rising pretty significantly as people post them on social media.

"When you think of the past and now, you need to realize these are people, kids who used to play basketball and did other things. The work is hard and very time-intensive, but it brings a whole new dimension to history."

Schichtel said he's "kind of picked the low-hanging fruit" on many of the easy photos to identify. But the work will continue.

"Yes, it can be frustrating," he said. "There are limitations if you want it to be accurate. Sometimes you look at a photo and you know it's not going to happen, and you move on. But this a chance to learn about people who made Grand Rapids what it is. That's important to me."

PHOTOS (Top) Two Grand Rapids Union basketball players stand for a photo taken Dec. 12, 1941. (2) Longtime area coach Bob Schichtel researches hundreds of photos that are part of the Grand Rapids Public Library archive. (3) Schichtel has identified these 1941 Grand Rapids Ottawa Hills basketball players as James Horn (left) and Chuch Reynier. (4) Schichtel identified Grand Rapids South High’s “Fireman Five” of, from left, Fred Esslair, Lee Morrow, Jack Carroll, Bob Youngberg and Bruce Bigford. (Historic photos courtesy of the Grand Rapids Public Library.)