The small town of Nome, Alaska, nestled in the harsh wilderness, faced a dire winter crisis 100 years ago. Isolated by the frozen sea and besieged by relentless blizzards, this Gold Rush town was threatened by an outbreak of diphtheria, a deadly disease aptly dubbed the 'strangling angel' for how it suffocated its victims. In a legendary effort that would come to be celebrated far beyond its borders, the town turned to an unlikely group of heroes: mushers and their resilient sled dogs.
This year marks a century since the remarkable 1925 'Great Race of Mercy', a grueling five-and-a-half-day relay where sled teams braved the elements to deliver lifesaving serum from Nenana to Nome. This amazing feat is commemorated with various events, including enlightening lectures, a dog-food drive, and a reenactment of the relay's final leg, organized by the Nome Kennel Club. 'It's about honoring the mushers and dogs, the heart of this heroic endeavor, and highlighting mushing's lasting significance in Alaska,' says Diana Haecker, a devoted member of the kennel club.
The tale of this epic journey begins in Nome, a town of 1,400 residents at the time, where the last supply ship had docked before the Bering Sea froze, failing to deliver the essential antitoxin. The town's local physician, Curtis Welch, had outdated supplies and initially underestimated the looming threat, having seen no diphtheria cases in his 18 years of practice. However, as winter progressed, fears materialized into reality—a telegram appealing to the U.S. Public Health Service confirmed the inevitability of an epidemic.
The urgency of the situation was underscored by the early fatalities; the first, a 3-year-old boy, succumbed on January 20, 1925, followed swiftly by a 7-year-old girl. With over 20 confirmed cases by month's end, Nome went under quarantine, as panic grew.
With limited options, officials decided to dispatch the serum via an ambitious sled dog team relay rather than wait for a slow coastal shipment. The plan involved transporting the vital serum by rail to Nenana and from there, relying on dogsled teams for the final 675-mile stretch across treacherous trails and the frozen Yukon River. With each relay team consisting of the finest sled dogs, helmed by seasoned mushers, this mission garnered national attention through newly established telegraph and radio networks.
One of the pillars of this heroic relay was Leonhard Seppala, a Norwegian émigré, who journeyed an astounding 250 miles with his dog team led by Togo, traversing a perilous expanse across the frozen Norton Sound. Against all odds, the serum arrived in Nome on February 2, 1925, after enduring temperatures plunging to minus 60 degrees Fahrenheit, fierce winds, and blinding snow. Newspapers nationwide, from the San Francisco Chronicle to local gazettes, hailed the triumph: 'Dogs Victors Over Blizzard in Battle to Save Nome.'
While Seppala's effort was heroic, it was Gunnar Kaasen, with Seppala’s dog Balto at the helm, who delivered the final leg into Nome, forever etching Balto's name into history. Despite being initially underappreciated, Balto's legacy grew as he was celebrated in films, immortalized by statues in New York's Central Park, and honored with a token key to Los Angeles.
Today, the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race stands as the most esteemed sled dog race worldwide, celebrating Alaska's traditional routes and mushing heritage. Although the Iditarod is not directly linked to the serum run, it shares the spirit of resilience and determination, reflecting Alaska's pioneering ethos.
This year's celebrations not only honor the past but inspire the future, reflecting on the critical role sled dogs have played in sustaining and connecting remote Alaskan communities, a legacy that thrives today in diverse ways.
