From 'sleeper' to lifesaver

Norman Hill caught a historic touchdown pass in the 1948 Grey Cup, but his patients and their families will remember his heroics as a renowned neurosurgeon

By: Jason Bell

Dr. Norman Hill will forever be remembered as the architect of one of the most extraordinary moments in Grey Cup history — a play so simple, yet so sneaky, it was later outlawed by the Canadian Football League.

The Winnipegger hauled in a pass while lying on his back and then jumped up and sprinted to the end zone to spark Calgary’s 12-7 triumph over the Ottawa Rough Riders in the 1948 Grey Cup. The touchdown remains firmly ingrained in Canadian football folklore as "the sleeper play."

Calgary quarterback Keith Spaith had just connected with receiver Woody Strode on one side of the well-worn field at Toronto’s Varsity Stadium, while Hill flopped down to the turf on the opposite side, remaining motionless. One play later, he joined the play undetected, providing an easy target for his QB.

Indeed, it was the stuff of legends but would, ultimately, pale in comparison to the legacy Hill built off the football field. The renowned Winnipeg neurosurgeon died in his sleep at his River Heights home on Jan. 18. He was 91.

Jeff McWhinney, the CFL’s official keeper of the Grey Cup, cherishes Hill’s memory with reverence not because of that remarkable trick play, but for a far more important response on the football field from the ex-Stampeder eight years later.

Hill called out an audible that probably saved a life. Let’s let Jeff tell the story:

"My dad, Glenn McWhinney, was traded from Edmonton to Winnipeg in 1955, and by then Mr. Hill was the team doctor for the Bombers," McWhinney said. "So, 1956 rolls around and Winnipeg’s playing Saskatchewan in November. It’s a lousy night, super rainy. My dad had a signature play that he could fake guys out, and he thought these guys would be spinning in the mud and he could beat them. But he got hit by nine guys. They sheared him at the bottom and guys sheared him at the top — broke his neck, his C3 and C4 (vertebrae).

"Thank God that Norm Hill was there because he said, ‘Do not move him. Cut the helmet off him.’ There was a 30 per cent chance of dad living and, within that 30 per cent, a 70 per cent chance of living paralyzed. But dad beat all the odds, and it had a lot to do with Mr. Hill."

Judging by the words of condolence many have offered since Hill’s passing, he touched the lives of countless Manitobans while working as a leading neurosurgeon for more than 40 years.

"My sincere condolences to Dr. Hill’s family, he was an answer to prayer. I was born with Hydrocephalus and he put my shunt in, I was 1 1/2 years old and am 50-something now I will be forever grateful to him for his caring and compassionate manner," wrote a former patient.

"When my eight-year-old niece sustained a severe head injury after being struck by a car, she was admitted to Children’s Hospital in critical condition and Dr. Hill operated on her. During her nearly two-month stay, Dr. Hill was there every day, continuing her care, and was so kind to all of us. That little girl is now a 67-year-old mother and grandmother. We have been and will always be so very grateful," offered a family member of a former patient.

Medicine was the Grey Cup champion’s true calling.

He played for the Bombers (1951-53) during the spring and summer months while hitting the books during the winter in the University of Manitoba’s faculty of medicine, graduating in 1952 before his 25th birthday — the youngest in his class. He finally gave up on the gridiron after seven pro seasons and turned his full attention to being a doctor.

He studied neurosurgery at the Mayo Clinic and, as his daughter Shauna Mallory-Hill points out, he "could have worked anywhere... But he was from the North End. He was committed to Winnipeg. He and mom (Bess) wanted to raise a family here."

Hill’s list of professional accomplishments are beyond impressive and far too lengthy to summarize. He was one of the first to specialize in the field of neurosurgery in Winnipeg, just behind Dr. Dwight Parkinson, and was later joined by Dr. Michael West and Dr. Derek Fewer. Together, they were instrumental in the development of the province’s Centre for Excellence for neurosurgery.

Hill was head of neurosurgery at Health Sciences Centre and St. Boniface Hospital, responsible for obtaining Winnipeg’s first CT scan machine. Later, he taught at the U of M, lectured across Canada and the U.S. and participated on panels that graded neurology students’ oral and written exams from several North American centres.

When he flew out the door at all hours of the day and night, his patients were his priority.

The blizzard of 1986 dumped 35 centimetres of snow on Winnipeg over an 11-hour period, bringing the city to a standstill. Hill’s car was stuck on Academy Road and he was forced to walk home the rest of the way that night, but with the possibility of emergency situations unfolding, he arranged to be picked up by the RCMP on snowmobile to get back to the hospital ER.

"Sometimes, we didn’t see him a whole lot growing up. He’d be on call or working nights and weekends. He was always on call, so if there was a bad car accident or an emergency surgery, out the door he’d go. If my dad was taking care of you, that meant you were pretty sick," said his son, David.

"He was someone who took a genuine interest in people. A really humble man, too. I told him once that he should buy a big, new car. He said, ‘No need for a Cadillac. That’s not a doctor’s car.’"

Norman and Bess met as teens at Grand Beach and were married for 60 years before her death in 2013. They had five children, daughters Elizabeth — who died in 1963 — Averie, Kym and Shauna, and son David. Summers were spent at the beach along the east side of Lake Winnipeg, and later at Lake of the Woods in Ontario and Falcon Lake in Whiteshell Provincial Park.

He was fiercely proud of his children, seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Despite a busy schedule, he rarely missed a music recital — even if his pager went off during Shauna’s piano playing — and reserved time to put his pigskin knowledge to good use, coaching David’s football team.

"That’s why we won the city championship. We were the most advanced team out there. What other nine-year-olds were pulling the kind of plays we were?" David said, laughing.

Hill was an avid angler, played tennis, golf and curling, enjoyed a good game of Scrabble with his kids and a family card game around the dining-room table. And he loved his Blue Bombers, rejoicing in the squad’s Grey Cup victory last November, their first in 29 years.

His name, of course, is engraved on the hallowed trophy. And he got to share time with it again on Nov. 10, 2018, on the occasion of his 90th birthday. A friend of the family asked McWhinney to drop by with the Cup, and it didn’t take much convincing.

When Jeff’s father, Glenn, had a serious stroke in 2010, Hill, well into his retirement, was a great source of support to the McWhinney family, checking in with the attending physicians for updates and interpreting the medical jargon.

"I wanted to drop in with the Grey Cup and extend gratitude for what he did for my family. I signed a card to him, ‘From the Keeper to the Sleeper,’" said McWhinney.

"He pulled me aside and said, ‘That injury to your dad (in 1956) inspired me to go into neurosurgery.’ It was pretty emotional. He shook my hand firmly and he had the same glossy eyes I had."

jason.bell@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @WFPJasonBell