Groundhog Day - History and Reality

The History 

Groundhog Day has been officially celebrated in the small town (Pop. 6,500) of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania since 1887. February 2nd is, in fact, an official holiday within the town.

The actual history of Groundhog Day is a bit blurry. Popular conjecture explains it something like this - Candlemas Day, which is the last day celebrated in relation to Christmas is on February 2nd (according to the Gregorian calendar), this was a day in which the clergy blessed candles and distributed them to the people. Many early Christians also associated this day with weather, because it is halfway between Winter and Spring, and how the coming year would pan out. If the weather was good then winter would continue, if the weather was bad it would end early. Supposedly this tradition was passed on to the Teutonic peoples of northern Europe (Germany) during the days of the Roman Empire. They added the animal element by concluding that if the sun where to shine on Candlemas Day an animal, in this case a hedgehog, would cast a shadow and thus indicate six more weeks of bad weather.

The Germans kept the tradition, and eventually brought it to America and Pennsylvania where they predominantly settled. Unfortunately there are no hedgehogs in North America so they were forced to find another suitable animal for their needs. They decided that the groundhog, or woodchuck as it is also known, resembled the hedgehog enough and gave him the honors. If the groundhog sees his shadow he would go back into his burrow, meaning six more weeks of winter, if he doesn't see his shadow he will be content to stay on the surface indicating an early spring.

Nowadays people tend to focus on one groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil. There are others, such as Staten Island Chuck (in New York), General Beauregard Lee (in Atlanta), Buckeye Chuck (in Ohio), and even Shubenacadie Sam in Nova Scotia. But, back in the day any groundhog was good enough. The following is an excerpt from a Pennsylvania storekeeper's diary dated February 4th, 1841. It comes from the Pennsylvania Dutch Folklore Center at Franklin and Marshall College and is the earliest American reference to Groundhog Day. 

"Last Tuesday, the 2nd, was Candlemas day, the day on which, according to the Germans, the Groundhog peeps out of his winter quarters and if he sees his shadow he pops back for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate."

Punxsutawney Phil almost always sees his shadow. Which doesn't bode well with the people of Pennsylvania. Out of the 109 years on record, according to Stormfax.com, Phil has seen his shadow 95 times. That is a little more than 87%. The last time he didn't see his shadow was 1999.

Despite his lackluster performance Phil is treated like a king. He lives in his own zoo, and eats ice cream and other atypical groundhog type foods. It should also be mentioned that no matter how cold it is on February 2nd, or how bad the weather is, you may suffer waiting for a glimpse of Phil but he will not be bothered. This is because that little tree stump he resides in at Gobbler's Knob is heated.

The tradition of Groundhog Day is passed on and kept alive in Punxsutawney thanks to the Inner Circle. The Inner Circle is composed of 21 members, led by their president Bill Cooper (who is the only person that understands Groundhogese and is capable of deciphering Phil's prognosis.)

That is the history and modern day tradition. For more information I recommend, Groundhog.org,Punxsutawney.com, and Punxsutawneyphil.com. You can follow the events live at 7AM EST via a live webcam hosted by VisitPA.com here.

Now, the reality.

In 2003 I made the trek to see the holiest of holy groundhog shrines. The epicenter of weather prediction. The town of Punxsutawney, and most particularly Gobbler's Knob and the lair of Phil himself. What follows is that tale...

At approximately 6 PM on the night of February the 1st, E. Panda and I set off from Allentown, PA and headed east for the woodchuck mecca. We had no idea what to expect. In fact I wasn't even sure if I could expect our 88' Nissan Sentra to make it the whole way and back.

As we found ourselves approaching the outskirts of little Punxsutawney at about 11PM we noticed a limousine behind us. Who could it be? Could it be Phil? Well, no. Not quite. It was one of two people who you'll hear about later in the story. We don't actually know which.

Punxy was packed with people. To be more precise the bars of Punxy were packed. The trip to see the groundhog is a popular one for people all over PA and eastern Ohio. Especially among college kids. They used to allow alcohol inside the park area around the Knob, but soon realized that having that many drunk college students out in the cold all night was probably not a great idea.

Oddly enough I managed to find a place to park on the street in town and from there we set off to see just what exactly we had gotten ourselves into. As stated, people were all over the place. Many of them not too friendly looking. We picked up some maps and pamphlets at one of the numerous information booths and began poking about amongst all the Phil related paraphernalia shops. (The people of Punxsutawney do a tremendous job organizing the event and keeping everyone informed of what's going on and how things work.) You can buy just about anything Phil related in Punxy. In the end we bought some big plastic thermometers that said "Weather Capital of the World" on them, as well as some pens and pencils. I think E. Panda bought a patch and I know we spent $50 on a hooded sweatshirt with the words "Punxy Phil" embroidered on it. Considering what we went through to earn that sweatshirt I probably would have payed even more.

Most of the bars in town were small and, how do I explain this, sixties-ish Pennsylvania. That is a good thing. Many of them look like they have not changed in 40 years. They are distinctly modernly historic. The one we found ourselves in, to pass the hours before the short trip to the Knob, had an interior that I remember as being entirely composed of dark green, dark brown, and a lot of stained glass. The stained glass I remember particularly well because most of it was related to the Pittsburgh Steelers during the 70's. The bar also had a lot of beer signs on the walls. Not surprising, except in this case the majority of these beers no longer existed, and those that did had changed their logos numerous times since the signs were produced.

We expected to have lots of exciting conversations with people about the event whilst we drank our one dollar draft Pabst's. This didn't really happen. Most people distinctly ignored us, probably a good thing, and the locals were less than pleased to find their pub invaded by a few hundred people more than normal. So, we stood there in a corner idly talking to ourselves about what to expect. We still didn't really have a clue. All we knew was, because of September 11th, they had a military presence at the event and all spectators were to be bussed the one mile to the Knob from town. Busses started running at 2AM. The bar closed at 1AM. And Phil made his appearance at 7AM.

To waste the time between 1 and 2, we went to one of the many places serving food all night. The majority of businesses, despite the fact that the 2nd is a holiday, stay open for obvious reasons. Like the fact that they make probably six months worth of profit in 2 days. We ate something, I think it was breakfast actually, and stared at the Groundhog Day memorabilia that is omnipresent everywhere in town. Finally, 2AM rolled about and we wandered off in the direction of the gathering crowds around the busses.

There were obviously some professionals in our midst. Seasoned veterans of these marathon nights that were bundled from head to tow, with blankets, and foldable chairs. We had nothing of the sort, and were severely underdressed for standing in a field for 5 hours in the snow and cold.

We boarded one of the first few busses and headed off to the holy land. Gobbler's Knob is located in the middle of a park outside of Punxsutawney proper. The bus dropped us, and the hundreds others, off at the edge of the park and we followed the route laid out towards the Knob itself, which was in actuality a large stage, well lit, with an area marked for the press (both local, national and international), an area roped off that indicated how close the spectators could get, and a couple of huge signs letting you know that this was in fact "the place". Within the park were a number of booths selling food and beverages (non-alcoholic), as well as souvenirs of all sorts. We didn't really check any of them out because we feared losing our spots. And believe me if you have to stand for 5 hours to secure a spot 50 odd feet away from the stage to be able to see Phil with your own eyes you wouldn't go for a hot dog either.

People continued to arrive, and then more people, and when you began to think it was getting ridiculous even more people showed up. All told, the official estimates put the crowd at 40,000 people. At around 3-3:30 AM the show started. What that means is the "pre-Phil" entertainment. A couple of different people sort of host the event, and it is their job to keep people awake and amused until the big moment. There is also a guy who walks about dressed up in a really bad groundhog suit. Entertainment involved a lot of chanting of "Phil-Phil-Phil" over and over again. The hosts could have gotten people to do just about anything. The reality of standing in a field with 40,000 other people at 4:34 AM waiting to see a groundhog is a very sketchy thing.

There was some music I recall, and I know at one point they brought up some of the German press on stage to explain why they were there. But the best was coming up. Eventually the guy who runs Ty, the makers of Beanie Babies, was invited on stage. (He is limo candidate #1.) For a second everyone wondered why the hell he was there. Then came the boos. Which were not the half-assed sort of boos you here at sporting events, but the acidic psychotic boos of people who are cold and tired. I distinctly recall someone yelling "sell out" at the top of their lungs. The boos continued, because once they started everyone thought, "yeah, that's a good thing to do." Beanie Baby guy says some things about this and that, and then proudly announces a Punxsutawney Phil Beanie Baby. People cheer for this. Pretty much every time the word Phil is even hinted at people go crazy. A bunch of these new Phil Beanies are dutifully launched into the crowd with a huge sling shot. This show is quite impressive as they manage to launch these things about half a mile. One of them, thrown from the stage, lands directly into the guys hands in front of me. This guy annoys me all night by showing, what could have been my Phil Beanie, to everyone around him.

Later on in the morning, at around 6:30ish Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell gets on stage. (Limo candidate #2.) He is also booed. And booed fiercefully. People are in no mood for politics, especially because this area of PA is not Ed Rendell's turf. He is the former Mayor of Philadelphia. The booing continues through most of what he says. He puts up with it as a good sport. Does the Phil chant, which was probably the only thing he could have said to make people applaud. People are, however, impressed when it is announced that he is the first Pennsylvania Governor to ever attend the event. A feeling of pride in having been there runs through the crowd. But is soon quelled by more shouts for Phil.

Finally, the big moment comes at about 7AM. A bit of fireworks and the crowd goes way more than crazy. Meanwhile little Phil, who is completely clueless as to what is going on, is getting more and more freaked out. The Inner Circle gets up on stage and goes through the rites of passage. Phil is taken out of the stump and held aloft like some sort of Aztec ceremony. The crowd roars. The prognosticator makes it be known to the President of the Inner Circle what he sees for the coming weeks. The groundhogese is translated to: six more weeks of winter. The cheers turn once again to boos. Someone tries to get on stage and is taken off by security. Some people about 20 feet away are holding up a huge sign that says "Chicago Wants Your Hog!" The crowd sticks around for about 10 minutes, the cheering and boos die down. And everyone heads back to the busses. And that is that. I guess Steve Jobs said it best, "The journey is the reward."

Back in town we check out some more of the shops trying to find a copy of the film. We even go by the Punxy Wal-Mart making the assumption that at least they will have it. No. Nowhere in the town of Punxsutawney on Groundhog Day can you buy a copy of the film Groundhog Day. I'm not sure why this is. Perhaps it is because the town itself was not used in the film, but was rather turned down for the roll which was eventually given to Woodstock, Illinois. Maybe the town, despite being made internationally famous through the publicity caused by the film, doesn't want to be connected to it since it really doesn't do justice to the actual event. Maybe they just don't like Andie MacDowell, who knows.

Having been up for 24 hours I, for some reason, decide that I want to drive home. Which we do. Despite god knows how much coffee I still manage to fall asleep numerous times at the wheel. At one point almost hitting a wild turkey that runs out onto the highway. Once we get back to Allentown we go by Best Buy and pick up a copy of Groundhog Day on DVD. At home we are disappointed that we can't be seen in the required 3 minutes featured on CNN. Damn. But at least we were there.

And that my friends is what Groundhog Day is all about.

K. Panda