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Nome village had
appeared on the map at the end of the 19th century, during the period of the
great gold rush. Located on the Seward peninsula, its population was over
20,000 inhabitants. When gold mines closed, toward 1925, it had dropped to
only 1,400 souls.
Nome was isolated by ice for seven months a year and the nearest railway
line was 650 miles away, in the town of Nenana. Nome was able to communicate
with the rest of the world by cable, a new invention in those days. Although
Alaska was an American State, mail was dispatched along roads that could be
trodden only by means of sleigh dogs; the path joining Ancorage with Nome
was and is still called “Iditarod Trail”. It took the best “mushers” one
month to run this distance.
On the 20th of January 1925 a radio message arrived:
“This is Nome calling… Nome calling… We have a diphtheria outbreak… No serum…
We badly need help… Nome calling…”
The only doctor in Nome, Mr. Curtis Welch, had diagnosed a few cases of
diphtheria, an extremely contagious disease affecting throat and lungs. The
Inuits were particularly vulnerable; whole villages had been devastated by
the first measles and flu epidemics, serum was dramatically urgent.
“Seattle calling…. Seattle calling… We have serum supply here… Airplanes
ready to take off…” but a tremendous Arctic storm was raging over Nome and
winter temperatures plunged far below zero. At that time technical reasons
prevented airplanes from facing those meteorological conditions.
“Ancorage calling… localized 300,000 serum units in our hospital… parcel can
be sent to Nenana by train… weight of the parcel is 20 pounds… could be
forwarded through the Iditarod Trail by means of dog teams…”
Just like this! Even though it was the 20th century, problems could not be
solved by technology! Settlers had been putting their trust in brave men and
strong dogs for years; they would trust them this time too.
On the following day three children had died in Nome because of diphtheria,
and other cases had been diagnosed. Time was a life or death matter!
Replacement teams were rapidly organized along the Iditarod Trail.
On the 27th of January 1925 the serum got to Nenana by train and the dog
team set off on their journey to Nome…
William "Wild Bill" Shannon led a team of nine Alaskan Malamutes from Nenana
to Tolovana (52 miles). He received the antitoxin with the instructions at
11.00 in the evening and left for Nenana. Besides the dogs’ panting and the
shuffling of the sleigh through the snow, no other sound could be heard
along the trail. Temperature was rapidly going down to 30° below zero when
Shannon left, then dropped to 35°, 40°, 50° in the Arctic darkness. Shannon
was literally freezing to death when he handed the serum over to Dan Green
in Tolovana. In the archives Shannon is reported to have arrived in Tolovana
on the following day at noon; he had no accidents during the journey. Wild
Bill was killed by a grizzly a few years later.
Dan Green didn’t meet any relevant difficulty during his trip of 32 miles
from Tolovana to Manley Hot Springs. The temperature was 30° below freezing
point. Without any accidents he passed the serum to Johnny Folger’s team.
Johnny Folger, an Athabasca native, travelled with his team from Manley Hot
Springs to Fish Lake for 28 miles in the night. The archives report that he
ran this distance in record times, but we don’t know exactly how long it
took him to get to Fish Lake to deliver the serum to Sam Joseph.
35-year-old Sam Joseph, from the tribe of Tanana, ran from Fish Lake to
Tanana (26 miles). He led a team of seven Malamutes; when he got to his home
in Tanana, the temperature was 38° below zero. He had covered 26 miles in
only two hours and forty-five minutes; satisfied with his performance he
handed over the serum to Titus Nikolai.
Titus Nikolai, an Athabasca native, from Tanana to Kalland (34 miles). There
is no news about Nikolai’s team. He passed the antitoxin to Dave Corning in
Kalland.
Dave Corning, from Kalland to Nine Mile Cabin (24 miles). We haven’t much
information about Dave Corning’s team either. We know that he covered the
distance at the record speed of 8 miles per hour and handed over the serum
to Edgar Kalland.
Edgar Kalland, from Nine Mile Cabin to Kokrines (30 miles). Edgar had been a
musher for the mail service and he made no mistakes during the trip. He was
welcomed by Harry Pitka at Kokrines.
Harry Pitka, a half-beed, from Kokrines to Ruby (30 miles). He ran a fast
team of seven dogs along a trail in good condition; the average speed was 9
miles per hour. He punctually handed over the serum to the following team,
led by Bill McCarty.
Bill McCarty, from Ruby to Whiskey Creek (28 miles). The lead dog of his
team was Prince. Despite a bad storm the team ran at a good pace and passed
the antitoxin to Edgar Nollner at 11.00 in the morning on the 29th January.
The temperature was 40° below zero.
Edgar Nollner, 21 years old, from Whiskey Creek to Galena (24 miles). The
8-year-old lead dog of his team, composed of seven Alaskan Malamutes, was
called Dixie. Edgar handed over the serum to his brother George at Galena.
George Nollner, from Galena to Bishops Mountain (18 miles). George hadn’t
been married for long when he left his new wife at Galena to take part in
the great race. He is reported to have used the same team as Edgar, who had
run the previous 24 miles. He handed over the serum to Charlie Evans.
Charlie Evans, an Athabasca half native, 21 years old, from Bishops Mountain
to Nulato (30 miles). He set off on his journey from Bishops Mountain at
5.00 in the morning with a dreadful temperature of 64° below zero. He got to
Nulato at 10.00 in the morning, so covering 30 miles in only 5 hours. His
team consisted of nine dogs; two had been borrowed and they both suffered
from groin congealment during the journey.
Tommy Patson "Patsy", a native of Koyukuk, from Nulato to Kaltag (36 miles).
Patsy lived at Nulato. He ran on a fairly straight trail and smooth ground,
the trail used for mail transportation. He reached the highest speed in the
great race, 36 miles in only three hours and a half, at an average speed of
about 10-11 mph.
Jackscrew, an Athabasca native, from Kaltag to Old Woman Cabin (40 miles).
Jackscrew was a rather short man, known for his unusual strength. As soon as
snow and darkness fell on him, he started running beside his lead dog to
light up the path, till he passed the Kaltag Divide, where the trail sloped
down to Norton Sound. He got to Old Woman Cabin at 9.10 in the evening on
Friday. His average speed was about 6 miles per hour along a difficult
40-mile-long trail.
Victor Anagick, an Eskimo native, from Old Woman Cabin to Unalakleet (34
miles). Victor ran with a team of 11 dogs. He covered a distance of 34 miles
in 6 hours and got to Unalakleet at 3.30 on Saturday morning. The antitoxin
was now at 207 miles from Nome.
Myles Gonangnan, an Eskimo native, from Unalakleet to Shaktolik (40 miles).
Nothing is reported about this team, which, anyway, handed over the serum to
Henry Ivanoff’s team at Shaktolik.
Henry Ivanoff was partly Eskimo and partly Russian. After only half a mile
from Shaktolik, his team attacked a reindeer. While he was untangling his
dogs, the Russian Eskimo called Leonhard Seppala, the greatest musher in the
territory, with Togo, one of the greatest dogs in the territory, was coming
back from Nome to meet the musher who was carrying the serum. When he
received it, he started off at all speed down the trail.
Leonhard Seppala, from Shaktolik to Golovin (91 miles). 48-year-old Leonhard
led a team of Siberian Huskies, the two lead dogs being Togo and Scotty.
Leonhard had left Nome with the intention of intercepting the serum at
Nulato. He knew nothing about the numerous replacement teams. Leonhard had
left Isaac’s Point, on the northern side of Norton Bay, in the morning, and
travelled for 43 difficult miles with a very strong wind at he back. When he
intercepted Henry Ivanoff he took the serum, turned his team round and
started off again in the wind along the trail. The temperature was 30° below
the zero; he faced again the strong wind and darkness. In order to gain
precious time, Leonhard took chances by choosing a shortcut on the ice, so
saving 20 miles. The snowstorm was blinding. He relied on Togo for the
safety of the team and not to lose the trail, and the dog didn’t disappoint
him. Each dog in a team plays a vital role, but it’s the leader that must
guide them through. Besides being brave and tough, a leader like Togo was
obedient and had a mysterious instinct for finding the track and sensing
danger. The strength of the wind threatened to break the ice at any moment.
Togo led the team through a zone with jagged edges, while the ice creaked
under the sleigh. Only three hours later the ice would break at Norton
Sound. On the northern beach of Norton Bay Leonhard stopped the sleigh near
an igloo, where he had spent the night before. He put the dogs in the kennel
and fed them properly, then he took the serum out of the sleigh to warm it,
in the hope that the storm would abate. On the Sunday morning the
temperature was 30° below zero and the wind was raging. Once again Leonhard
got on the sleigh and began the race in conditions nobody would have
accepted, hadn’t it been a life or death matter. When he got to Dexter's
Roadhouse at Golovin, his dogs collapsed on the trail exhausted. The serum
was now 78 miles away from Nome and it was Charlie Olson’s responsibility to
take it to the next stopover, Bluff. In total, Seppala’s team had covered
the incredible distance of 260 miles!
Charlie Olson, from Golovin to Bluff (25 miles). Charlie led a team of seven
Alaskan Malamutes, whose leader was Jack. Charlie had left Gunnar Kaasen at
Olson Roadhouse and had reached Golovin to wait for the serum. He left
Golovin at 3.15 on Sunday afternoon with a temperature at 30° below zero and
a wind at 40 mph. Many a time his sleigh was knocked out of the trail by
powerful blasts. The dogs’ movements were increasingly getting stiff because
of the cold. He stopped and covered each dog with a blanket to prevent him
from freezing. In order to do that he had to take off his gloves and
suffered terribly, as if so many needles pierces his fingertips. Unluckily
two of his dogs finished off badly with a groin congealment. In spite of the
storm, Charlie arrived at Olson's Roadhousea Bluff at 7.30 in the evening.
There Gunnar Kaasen was awaiting, worried about the lot of his friend, who
had faced the dreadful storm.
Gunnar Kaasen, from Bluff to Nome (52 miles). The lead dog of the team was
called Balto. Gunnar was sent from Nome to Bluff to wait for the serum;
while Ed Rohn was sent to Pt. Safety. On his way to Pt. Safety, Gunnar was
unable to see the trail because of the tempest and had to rely on Balto.
Kaasen had a premonition that the storm would even get worse; he would never
have chosen Balto to lead his team. Balto had never been considered an
excellent leader, though he was one of Seppala’s dogs, but he showed his
boldness when he plunged into the roaring snowstorm. Along the trail he even
stopped to rescue his musher and team from sure death in the Topkok river.
As they got to Bonanza, a terrible blast of wind swept the team out of the
trail and the sleigh overturned. After straightening up the sleigh and
untangling the dogs, Gunnar realized that the serum was missing! He felt
sick at heart and, falling on his knees in despair, he franticly searched
for the serum. His bare hands miraculously found it in the middle of the
snow. After he had crossed Bonanza, he covered the last 12 miles in 80
minutes and got to Safety at 2.00 on Sunday morning. Ed Rohn was sleeping
and Kaasen decided not to wake him up in order to save time. The worst part
of the trail was now behind him and the dogs were in good condition, so
Kaasen tackled the final 21 miles separating him from Nome. He reached his
destination at 5.30 on that Sunday morning. The town was safe!
He had covered 53 miles in seven hours and a half. The serum was frozen but
undamaged and it was immediately used to check the epidemic. Five days later
the epidemic had been completely halted.
Eskimo, Indian and White mushers carried the serum in “the Great Race of
Mercy”. The replacement teams had stretched their endurance to the limit.
The antitoxin was passed from frozen hands to frozen hands, till the last
team brought hope to the town of Nome. Exhausted and half frozen after a
53-mile race, Kaasen, Balto and the rest of the team were immediately
considered heroes in the United States. The 674- mile journey had been made
in 127 hours and a half, a world record.
The dogs’ glory was brief. Sol Lesser, a Hollywood film producer, brought
the dogs to Los Angeles and created a 30-minute film, “Balto’s Race to
Nome”. Kaasen and his team then travelled about the States during the summer
of 1925, but later Balto and the rest of the team were sold to an unknown
producer of musical. Two years later Balto and his famous friends had become
minor attractions. It seemed that the world had forgotten the “Heroes of
Alaska”. Then George Kimble, a Cleveland businessman that was visiting Los
Angeles, discovered the dogs exhibited for ten cents in a little museum and
noticed they were sick and ill-treated. He knew Balto’s famous story and was
shocked by this degradation. He made an agreement to purchase the dogs for $
2,000 and take them to Cleveland – but Kimble had only two weeks to gather
the sum. The race to rescue Balto had begun!
A fund for Balto was set up. All over the nation, radios transmitted appeals
for donations. Paper headlines furthered the cause of freeing the heroes.
The answer of Cleveland was explosive. Lots of children collected buckets of
coins; factory workers, hotels, shopkeepers and visitors gave what they
could to Balto’s fund. The Western Reserve Kennel Club made a remarkable
donation. People had responded generously. In only ten days Balto’s fund
reached the sum for the liberation of the heroes!
On the 19th of March 1927, Balto and his six companions were brought to
Cleveland and were welcomed like heroes in a triumphal parade. The dogs were
then led to Cleveland zoo, to spend the rest of their life decorously. On
their first day at the zoo 15,000 people visited them!
Balto died on the 14th of March 1933, at 11 years of age. His body was
embalmed and can still be seen in the Museum of Natural History in
Cleveland, where it has been preserved to recall the brave race against
death. As yet, nobody can state for sure which northern breed Balto belonged
to. Some people say he was an Alaskan Malamute, others a Siberian Husky,
still others say he was half Malamute and half wolf. It will probably remain
a secret forever. To remember the heroic race against death and in memory of
the sleigh-dogs whose “endurance, loyalty, courage and intelligence” saved
the life of Nome’s population and that ran through the Iditarod in only five
days, a statue was put up with Balto’s features. It was located in New York
Central Park and is still the most visited by tourists and children. Balto
and the other dogs of the race against time shall not be forgotten; in 1995
the Twentieth Century Fox distribuited the animation film “Balto”, produced
by Steve Hickner and directed by Simon Wells.
Final note:
Balto
was not the real protagonist of that race against time. He had covered 53
miles in a dreadful snowstorm and delivered the serum to the town of Nome.
That’s why he became famous and was given so many recognitions, but the true
hero, for those who know the facts, was Togo and Leonhard Seppala’s team,
who covered 418 kilometres in the middle of a blizzard and on the ice that
would threaten to break and would repeatedly creak as the sleigh went past!
Togo was already 12 years old when he led the team through the storm!
Seppala had been Balto’s owner, but he knew that the true hero and
protagonist of the great race was above all Togo. He would have liked more
recognitions for his “great” dog, and after Togo’s death in 1929 at the age
of 16 Seppala had him embalmed. Today Togo is in the little museum of the
Iditarod headquarters at Wasilla. |
