Today, in 1925, as people
watched anxiously in the darkness of early morning, the dog-sled team of Gunnar
Kasson raced into Nome, Alaska, carrying the 300,000 units of diphtheria serum
which would stave off a threatened epidemic until a larger shipment gathered
and sent from the West Coast could arrive.
(continued)
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This is also Candlemas, which you can read about here (with a recipe for groundhog, in case you and the groundhog don't agree).
But first, the Weather:
Update 2013: I don't know about you, but today we have what the weather guessers call "plentiful sunshine". Senor Candyman (el Gato) has seen his shadow; in fact, he and Senor Nico are lazing around in a sun puddle as I write. Maybe Pennsylvania will have an early spring, but here at Rudd's Little Acre+, we can expect at least six more weeks of winter.
If the ground hog (or badger
or I believe someone says a snake) sees his shadow on February 2nd, there will
be six more weeks of cold weather. It is between eleven and one o'clock
that the groundhog's (or badger’s or snake’s) shadow is significant.
If Candlemas is fair and
clear [fair and clear, aye]
There’ll be two winters in
the year.
If Candlemas Day be fair and
bright, [fair and bright, aye]
Winter will have another
flight.
But if it be dark with
clouds and rain,
Winter is gone, and will not
come again.
As far as the sun shines in
on Candlemas Day [fair amount of snow coming, aye]
So far will the snow blow in
before the month of May.
When on Purification the sun
hath shined
The greater part of winter
comes behind. [greater part, aye]
If Candlemas Day be fine and
clear,
Corn and fruits will then be
dear. [boo!]
If Candlemas Day be wet and
foul,
The half of winter was gone
at Yule.
If Candlemas is dark, look
for a wet summer.
If Candlemas is bright and
clear, look for a bright summer.
[So maybe it isn’t so bad if the groundhog sees his shadow. Spring might be long a-comin’, but summer
will be dry.]
If the goose finds it wet on
Candlemas, the sheep will have grass on Lady Day (March 24) [not this year]
When the wind’s in the east
on Candlemas Day,
There it will stick till the
second of May.
Gardening:
On Candlemas Day if the
thorns hang a-drop (with icicles)
Then you are sure of a good
pea crop.
At Candlemas Day,
It is time to sow beans in
the clay.
If the sun shines on
Candlemas, the flax will prosper [Not
quite so important to us in this day of unnatural fibers, but at one time a
good flax crop determined if you would have new clothes, sheets, and towels
this year, or would have to make do with last year’s linen.]
The snowdrop in purest white
array,
First rears her head on
Candlemas Day.
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The entire 674-mile relay,
which started from Nenana on January 27th, was accomplished in the
worst possible conditions, with short daylight, gale-force winds, blizzards,
and sub-zero temperatures. Nearly all
of the mushers experienced frostbite, and several dogs died.
Headlines screamed the good
news to the rest of the world, which had been following the news of the
impending epidemic and the heroic efforts to stop it:
“Nome Has Serum!”
“Panting Dogs Bring Alaska
Plague Relief!”
“Serum Arrives in Time to
Fight Epidemic!”
United Press issued this
story on February 3rd:
“Alaska’s epic race with
death is over.”
“Out of a whirling, blinding
blizzard, weary dogs, whipped on by a stout-hearted toiling giant of America,
Gunnar Kasson, plunged into Nome Monday with the precious serum needed to
combat an epidemic of diphtheria.
“The serum was frozen, but
Dr. Curtis Welch, Nome’s lone physician, after testing some of the anti-toxin,
declared it had not been damaged by the cold, and that the soul-stirring race
over the snows from Anchorage had not been in vain.
“Kasson was virtually
sheathed in ice as he, with difficulty, unclenched his bleeding hands from the
sled handles. Ice masked the heaving
flanks of his malmutes [sic] as they dropped in the snow after their record run
against death.
“The anti-toxin, wrapped in
a bundle weighing scarcely 20 pounds, was unlashed from the sled and rushed
into the hospital. It was
necessary to cut the frozen ropes with axes.
“Men stared at the precious
stuff as it was turned over to Dr. Welch.
To the inhabitants of Nome, the serum is more precious than all the gold
taken from the Klondike in the gold rush days.
“The story of the 1,000 mile
trip across the wastes of Alaska is a true epic of the northland.”
After several paragraphs of
descriptions of the trail and the mushers, with graceful kudos to Kasson’s lead
dog, Balto, the account adds: “The 300,00 units of serum is expected to serve
merely temporarily. Nome will not
be safe until the shipment ordered rushed from Seattle by steamer is received,
according to Dr. Welch.” A
subsequent story said that the second shipment was expected to arrive in Seward
by Friday, February 6th, and Nenana on Saturday, after which it would be flown
by bi-plane to Nome.