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Voices from the Flats – Iditarod 2011

By Jim Wright

The following story of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race first appeared on Stonekettle Station in 2009.

With this week’s kickoff of the Last Great Race, and my well known passion for it, a number of folks have asked about the origins of the event. Here’s the story:

AN EPIDEMIC OF DIPHTHERIA IS ALMOST INEVITABLE HERE STOP I AM IN URGENT NEED OF ONE MILLION UNITS OF DIPTHERIA ANTITOXIN STOP MAIL IS ONLY FORM OF TRANSPORTATION STOP …

Those lines were part of a message sent by Curtis Welch, MD, on January 22nd, 1925 via radio telegram from Nome to all towns in the Alaskan Territory.

That desperate message was intended for the Territorial Governor in Juneau, and the public health service in Washington D.C. and it sounded an emergency of almost unimaginable horror. Dr. Welch was facing a disaster the likes of which are rarely seen outside of fiction.

At the turn of the century, during the boom town glory days of the Klondike gold rush, more than 20,000 people lived in Nome – in January of 1925, long after the gold and gold miners had run out, Nome boasted a population of around 1400, about 975 white settlers and 450 Alaskan Natives. The last ship of the season, the steamship Alameda, had left Nome harbor two months before, tracking south ahead of the encroaching winter ice. The sun had followed the steamship, disappearing below the southern horizon and leaving Nome locked in the grip of –50F temperatures and the endless Arctic night.

During the Alaskan winter, Nome’s only contact with the outside world was unreliable HF radio – and the more reliable dog sled mushers and their teams who carried the mail and what light cargo they could via the old Iditarod trail.

Shortly after the departure of the Alameda, a native child fell sick and died. At first Dr. Welch was unsure of the cause, but as more and more children sickened over the next few weeks he began to suspect diphtheria – an upper respiratory tract infection caused by Corynebacterium diphtheriae. In the early stages, diphtheria mimics the symptoms of tonsillitis, the flu, or the common cold – which is why Welch, with the primitive diagnostic tools available to him at the time, was slow to recognize the impending disaster. Left untreated, diphtheria destroys the nervous system, leading to a loss of motor control and sensation, and very quickly, death. Diphtheria is highly contagious, with fatality rates up to 10% in the general population and as high as 20% in young children and adults over 40. Among the elderly and those with compromised immune systems, the fatality rate is much higher. More than likely, crewmen from one of the visiting ships had unknowingly brought the disease north at the end of the shipping season, leaving behind a deadly time bomb. As Welch noted in his radio message, by January an epidemic was almost inevitable. Nome’s only doctor was staring straight into the specter of at least 300 immediate deaths – all of which would be his family and friends.

But the pending disaster was far, far worse and far more horrifying. Nome was the hub of the surrounding area, the native population around the town numbered well over 10,000. Those natives had no resistance to the disease at all.

Their expected mortality rate was nearly 100%.

Nowadays, diphtheria would be treated with antibiotics, Erythromycin or even the big gun, Procaine Penicillin G. But antibiotics didn’t exist in 1925, and the best treatment was diphtheria antitoxin. The antitoxin didn’t cure the disease but rather neutralized the toxins released by the diphtheria bacillus into the victim’s bloodstream – giving the body’s own immune system a chance to combat the infection without having to deal with being poisoned at the same time. Unfortunately, even today the antitoxin doesn’t neutralize toxins already bonded to tissues and does nothing itself to kill the bacteria. For the antitoxin to work, it has to be administered as early as possible, usually immediately as soon as a doctor makes the clinical diagnosis of diphtheria infection and without waiting for laboratory confirmation.

One other thing to note: the antitoxin is perishable. Dr. Welch had antitoxin on hand, all of which had expired.

And so he radioed for help.

No ship could reach them, and in fact couldn’t get within 500 miles of Nome by then. No plane, not even the most advanced aircraft in the Alaskan Territory at the time, the Postal Service’s DeHavilland DH-4, could fly under the winter conditions – their open cockpits and liquid cooled engines made that utterly impossible.

The only solution was dogsled.

The antitoxin would have to be transported via a relay of sled dogs, from Tanana to Nome, a distance of 674 miles through astoundingly rugged territory in temperatures that were at record lows, -50 to –60 degrees Fahrenheit.

Wild Bill Shannon led off, mushing out of the train station in Tanana with the twenty pound package, about 30 doses, of serum in his sled at 9PM on January 27. Shannon’s team was composed of nine dogs, all inexperienced, led by Blackie. Shannon was forced onto the frozen Tanana River, with temperatures approaching –62F he ran behind the sled to stay warm. He mushed into Minto with his face frozen black from the cold, hypothermic and severely frost bitten. He left three dying dogs in Minto, and headed out for Tolovana. Another dog died on the trail.

Edgar Kallands picked up the relay in Tolovana. When he arrived at Manley Hot Springs, they had to poor hot water over his hands to pry them off the sled’s handlebars.

Meanwhile the world waited. Nome’s plight had caught the attention of the entire globe . Famed Arctic explorer Roald Amundsen, even offered to make an attempt in an airplane. The Navy proposed sending one of its ships as far north as possible, then assembling a plane on the ice pack and launching it towards Nome. Many other ideas were suggested. All were rejected as too risky and foolhardy. Nome would live or die with the mushers and their dogs.

The serum went north, from Manely Hot Springs via native mushers arriving at Bishop Mountain on January 30, at 3:00 in the morning. The temperature was –62F, and dropping. Charlie Evans mushed out of Bishop Mountain and lost both of his lead dogs on the trail, legend has it that he himself held the traces and led the remaining dogs into Nulato.

Tommy Patsey took the next leg out of Nulato and across the Kaltag Portage. The serum was handed off to Victor Anagick and then to Myles Gonangnan at Unalakleet at the edge of the vast Norton Sound.

A storm was rising. The type of storm you’ll only find in the deepest of arctic winter on the ‘Sound. The kind of storm that comes from winds driven across two thousand miles of frozen ocean. Gonangnan took one look at it and decided not to cross the ice – he knew the storm winds could easily push the pack ice and open leads to the frigid black water below, cutting the team off from land and dooming 10,000 people to almost certain death. He choose instead to circle the Sound in whiteout conditions and with wind chills approaching 70 below zero in gale force winds. He arrived in the native village of Shaktoolik at 3PM on January 31st damn near frozen to death. Henry Ivanoff, took the serum and headed out into the storm.

At the same time the serum was heading north, Leonhard Seppala rode south out of Nome to meet the relay in Shaktoolik. Sappala crossed Norton Sound on the ice and turned east toward Shaktoolik in blinding conditions. Just outside Shaktoolik, he meet Ivanoff who had gotten tangled up with a reindeer and was struggling to free his harness and dogs.

Seppala took the serum and turned back into the teeth of the storm, again crossing the ice of Norton Sound. His lead dog, Togo, managing to find the way with almost supernatural instinct. Togo led the team unerringly from Ungalik to the road house at Isaac Point on the far side of Norton Sound, and in one day they covered a distance of 84 miles through one of the worst arctic storms on record. They rested at the road house, and then departed into the full power of the worsening storm, and as they ran across the ice the 65 mile per hour winds begin to open leads behind them and the ice began to break up. Seppala managed to make the shore, just ahead of the buckling ice and crossed Little McKinley Mountain – climbing nearly 5000 feet in the process. Seppala reached the road house at Golvin at 3PM on February 1st and passed the serum on to Charlie Olsen.

Olsen lost the trail in the storm and suffered severe frostbite to his hands while trying to save his dogs, but he made it to Bluff on on the evening of February 1st. Gunnar Kassen was waiting for him.

Kassen attempted to wait out the storm, but instead of lessening it kept getting worse. Kassen, afraid that drifts would block the trail, departed Bluff at 10PM into a 60 mile per hour headwind and whiteout conditions so bad that he could not even see the wheel dogs harnessed closest to the sled. He missed the lodge at Solomon and was two miles beyond it before he realized his mistake – so he kept going. Beyond Solomon the trail became an endless nightmare. The winds flipped Kassen’s sled and the precious cylinder of antitoxin fell out and was lost in the snow. Kassen froze his hands feeling around in the drifts for it. He found it, righted the sled, and continued on to Point Safety, making it ahead of schedule on February 2nd. Kassen’s lead dog, Balto, had performed an almost unbelievable feat of navigation through the storm.

Ed Rohn, believing that Kassen would have to wait out the storm at Solomon was not prepared when Kassen arrived. Because it would take time to ready Rohn’s team, and time was of the utmost importance, Kassen elected to continue on rather than wait. Kassen and Balto covered the remaining 25 miles and arrived two hours later on Front Street, Nome at 5:30AM on the morning of February 2nd.

Not a single glass ampoule of the antitoxin was lost, and the serum was thawed and ready for use by noon. Altogether the teams covered 674 miles in 127.5 hours under extreme arctic winter conditions in a hurricane force gale.

That was the first relay.

There were more, carried by many of the same men who ran in the first relay.

And later there were plane flights.

Nome was saved and so was the Alaskan Native population.

Rarely in fact or fiction has there ever been anything to match the skill, courage, and dedication of those men and dogs.


Today, we remember the events of that long ago time with the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog race.

It began humbly enough.

The Last Great Race had its origins in the mid 1960’s, the idea of Dorothy Page and Joe Redington Sr (later called “The Father of the Iditarod”), as mostly unnoticed competitions between enthusiasts of a slowly dying and mostly forgotten way of life.  Snow machines and technology had long ago replaced dogs on the snowy trails of the north, and mushing was a skill likely soon to be lost in the frozen blizzards of history – along with diphtheria epidemics and open cockpit mail planes.

Later Redington, along with local school teachers Gleo Huyck and Tom Johnson, came up with the idea of extending those short races all the way to Nome – many, including Dorothy Page thought they were crazy. But in 1973, the very first Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race followed the old traces 1100 miles from Anchorage to Nome and forty years later The Iditarod is an ingrained part of our state’s history – and more than any other event, responsible for reviving and preserving dog mushing in North America.

The race begins on the first Saturday in March after a two week winter festival known as The Fur Rendezvous (called simply Rondy by Alaskans) with a ceremonial start in downtown Anchorage. The whole city turns out for the celebration and people come from all over the world to watch the mushers and their dogs run through the streets.

Though the majority of the teams are Alaskan, there are competitors from all over the world – from places you’d never think to imagine.  Take #6, Newton Marshall, he’s from Jamaica. This is his second year and he delighted the crowd along 4th street by dancing on the runners of his sled. You should have heard the cheering and laughter:

 

image

This year there are mushers from all over the United States, from Canada, New Zealand, Norway, and Scotland. Everybody has their favorites, from four time winner Lance Mackey to the famous DeeDee Jonrowe to Ray Redington Jr, grandson of the race’s founder. For us, my family, it’s Allen Moore and Aliy Zirkle, husband and wife, and friends of ours from Two Rivers, Alaska.

Sunday, the day after the ceremonial start, the race begins in earnest on a frozen lake 70 miles north of Anchorage in the tiny town of Willow.  Some years, we’ve been on that lake at thirty below in blowing snow, but not this year. This year it was a gorgeous Alaskan day, clear and mild and not a cloud in the sky.

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(click on the picture for a larger image)

 

Here’s Allen Moore, Bib #5, out of the gate and on his way to Nome.

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Twenty-six minute later, Aliy followed him in position #18.  Click on the picture for a larger image, Aliy’s joyously blazing smile will tell you why she’s one of Alaska’s favorite mushers.

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My wife and I saw old Joe Redington race his last Iditarod in 1997 at the age of 80.   He died two years later, in 1999, and was buried in his favorite dogsled in the town of Wasilla where it all began.

His legacy is a very big deal in Alaska, it’s a celebration of much more than a mere sport, it reminds us forcefully of our history here in The Great Land, it speaks directly to a triumph of the human spirit in this harsh and beautiful place.

More, the race reminds Alaskans every single year of those long ago men and their dogs who dared greatly, and won.

Comments

comments

Comments
30 Responses to “Voices from the Flats – Iditarod 2011”
  1. seattlefan says:

    Thank you for this. I had no idea what the back story was on this race. Now I have a better understanding. What a riveting story and who knew it was “breaking news” back in the day. I love that it was all about saving lives and was a major impact for the natives who had no resistance to the disease. Not only is this story fascinating, it is heart-warming. Thank you so much for the history.

  2. Zyxomma says:

    Moving and fascinating. Thanks so much for posting.

  3. Really interesting article and I can’t imagine what being out in that kind of weather is like. Those men and their commitment to get the serum through at all costs should immortalize them in Alaska and American history. I am a survivor of diphtheria and would like to know what became of all these mushers. Are their stories available to be read? They could,nt just disappear,could they?

  4. tigerwine says:

    I just noticed that Huff Post’s headline on the WI debacle has almost 31,000 comments!!! I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before! Anyone?

  5. ivan says:

    aurora display over the chugach tonight, faint and ghostly but very active.
    dancing around the stars it pulses and quivers.
    the husky’s must be all a twitter on their quest Nome.
    oh to run with the dogs.

  6. CityKid says:

    If you’re in Anchorage – look up and East. The Northern Lights are quite active.

  7. Laurainnocal says:

    Thank you Jim. Outstanding piece on extraordinary humans and canines.

  8. LibertyLover says:

    Help!

    This was in my email inbox today:

    Politico reported earlier today that Sarah Palin is eyeing Scottsdale to launch her bid for the White House.

    “But I’m told Palin’s camp is, at least, holding preliminary talks about how a campaign would look if she decides to run. One early decision, a source says: It would be based in Scottsdale, Arizona, where Bristol Palin recently bought a house in nearby Maricopa.” – Politico, March 9, 2011.

    There is even political chatter of her looking at Arizona’s open Senate seat.

    The Politico article summed it up: “Arizona carries its own significance: […] It’s also the core of the politically contested, fast-growing new West.”

    I can’t see her grabbing Kyl’s seat. But YIKES! The thought of it sickens me!

    • tigerwine says:

      Hi, Lover! (ohh, doesn’t that sound suggestive??)

      I really don’t think she will run for president – she’s too lazy, and I think she’s scared of her Republican competition. I do think she will make a run for Kyl’s seat in AZ, though. Too much
      coincidences going on down there: Bristol buying a house, Van Flein relocating to AZ, an open Senate seat coming up in 2012. (Wasn’t there also, too, someone else from the Palin camp that
      moved to AZ recently?

  9. ks sunflower says:

    BTW, I did mean to say thank you for the post today. It provided depth to the event and gave me information I had not been aware of so I can better appreciate the race through its historical context. Thank you!

  10. barbara says:

    that was beautiful. has a movie been made yet?

    • Kimosabe says:

      Well sort of. A pretty lame animated movie called Balto was out a few years ago, loosely based on the serum run. Wouldn’t a dramatization of the actual run be thrilling!

    • fishingmamma says:

      This is not about the serum run, but it was a beautiful movie, if you can find it…”Spirit of the wind”

  11. ks sunflower says:

    OT – but important: WI GOP separates out the union issues from the larger bill so they could pass it without quorum. This means the unions are screwed!

    This happened even while Gov. Walker was supposedly in negotiations with the unions today.

    • scout says:

      live feed: http://www.wiseye.org/

      under: Channel Schedule
      click “11:00 AM Senate Floor Session – 03.09.2011”

    • bob benner says:

      Bill just passed… Demo’s in hiding still missing in action…

      • ks sunflower says:

        No, several are on the way back – apparently – to pursue legal action against the vote. There was inadequate notice given under WI law – even according to a memo from WI’s Republican Attorney General.

        The GOP is finally showing its true color and lack of moral character. They will do any dirty trick possible, stretch the law to suit themselves. I am totally disgusted by the actions of the 18 of the 19 WI Republican state senators. One voted No to the proposal, but only one. No Democrats were present because they were not alerted to the Conference Committee meeting. The Governor is praising this despicable action. I know WI is stuck with Walker for 19 more months.

        The GOP in WI is making a mockery of the democratic process.

  12. blue_in_AK says:

    I always notice Aliy’s smile, too. She is so photogenic — I don’t think I’ve ever taken a bad picture of her, and I’ve got lots of them.

    • tigerwine says:

      She’s a gracious lady, as well as looker! I noticed she has dropped to #20. Mush on, Aliy!

  13. Gimme-a-break, Sarah says:

    Thanks for recounting this amazing story! Such brave folks!

  14. Wallflower says:

    It’s a powerful story and it brings tears to my eyes every time I read about it, or hear about it. Jim, thanks for listing all the mushers and their contributions.

  15. jojobo1 says:

    Great article.I have read about the run but this gave a much better view of it. Thanks.

  16. Trini says:

    Every year I pick one musher and silently cheer them on. This year it is Jesse Royer…..’cause one of her hobbies is “braiding”. That just made me smile. You go Jesse!

  17. Star says:

    wow~ never knew this..tough people you Alaskans are..great post..

  18. Kimosabe says:

    I recently read The Cruelest Miles, a meticulous yet spellbinding account of the serum run. Your few paragraphs tell the story, and it’s importance, beautifully.

    What I did not realize, and suspect most don’t, is how closely the run was followed nationwide and worldwide. There were phone lines to many of the villages and roadhouses, and the world was able to follow the progress of the run in daily headlines. Even the president got involved by ultimately nixing a proposal to fly the seem in.

  19. Paula says:

    The snow looks good right now. We’re awaiting 2-3 inches of rain, plus melted snow, in flood zone A!
    I think it’ll be a big one, and we just remodeled 🙁 Cross your fingers she stays out of the house, Thanks!

  20. I love the Iditarod (I’m a diehard Mackey fan), but I would like you to address the issue of trash and debris left behind in villages along the route. I know people who don’t support this great race because they don’t like that aspect of it. I realize that all big races that are crosscountry (non-Alaska example could be the Tour de France) involve large numbers of people filling small towns and then leaving abruptly. How do some of the other races deal with this? How much of a problem is it?

  21. leenie17 says:

    Thank you so much for this post. I’ve heard the basics of the story before, but never in this much detail, and your account brought tears to my eyes. What amazing courage and sheer determination those mushers and their dogs displayed.

    A truly inspiring and moving story.

  22. Katmai says:

    That was such a pleasure to read.

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  1. […] An Alaska blogger shares the history of the Iditarod, which commemorates a desperate effort to prevent an epidemic. This entry was […]