The Great Race of Mercy — Forgotten History

The ice and wind relentlessly berate you in the freezing Alaskan winter as your team of Huskies push forward through the snow. Your hands and face are numb, you’re constantly on the precipice of hypothermia, and frostbite has already begun to set in. As the sled jars you up and down the only thing you wish is for it to stop, but you can’t. As you look down and see the small package you know you’re on a mission, over a thousand lives are at risk if you quit now.

Huskies

The Siberian Husky is an extraordinary animal. Over hundreds of years of being specially bred by Siberian Natives they have developed many traits to help them survive extremely cold weather. They thrive on high fat diets that are required for work in subzero temperatures. They have a special ability where they are able to put their fur into a state of hibernation so it does not shed and does not grow, preserving vital nutrients for other parts of the body. They have developed a way to keep blood against their skin warm to prevent frostbite and certain blood vessels in the legs have fused together to ward off the cold. Pound for pound they can pull nearly double the weight of larger breeds and not tire. These and numerous other reasons are what spurned fur trader William Goosak to bring the husky to Alaska.

During the “Great Race of Mercy” Siberian Huskies were relatively new to Alaska, only being introduced in 1909. They quickly became the prominent sled dog as Goosak began winning races with them and proved that they could outperform even the larger native Malamute. The husky spread across Alaska as they were the best sled dogs, but their popularity outside of the state would not happen until 1925 when they helped make a desperate life or death trip possible.

The Situation

It is often said that problems always occur at the worst possible times and that saying was no less true for the town of Nome in January 1925. The town's supply of Diphtheria antitoxin had expired and even though the lone town doctor, Curtis Welch, put in for a new supply winter set in and the harbor froze over before it could be delivered. At the same time several children began experiencing what Dr. Welch believed to be tonsillitis and treated them for such. It was only after four of the children died did the doctor realize that it was Diphtheria, both exhibit almost the exact same symptoms.

Image of the town of Nome, Courtesy of Northern Light Media

Diphtheria is a rare bacterial infection that targets the respiratory system. It kills healthy tissue and causes the body to form a thick gray mucus like coating that makes it difficult for a person to breathe or swallow. If left untreated it can be fatal in a matter of days.

Several more children came down with Diphtheria and in a desperate attempt Dr. Welch tried to administer the expired antitoxin. It had no effect and two more children died. With the bacteria spreading and the antidote shipment unable to be delivered the only thing that could be done was quarantine the town.

With the town sealed they now tried to figure out a way to receive the antitoxin. Unfortunately Alaska was experiencing its worst winter in 20 years so primitive airplanes of the time were out of the question and boats were already ruled out due to the harbor being frozen over, no train tracks ran to the town either. Complicating matters was the fact that the closest supply of the antidote was in Anchorage, Alaska which was over 800 Kilometers (500 miles) away. Making things even more difficult was that there was no clear path to Anchorage from Nome so the antitoxin had to be shipped by rail to the town of Nenana which was 1,085 Kilometers (674 miles) away from Nome. The only clear way was across the Iditarod Trail and a trip like that usually took between 25-30 days to make, the antidote when exposed to such harsh weather conditions would expire in as little as six. They knew they had to figure out something as Dr. Welch said that there would be a 100% mortality rate without the antidote.

Finally on January 24 they came up with a solution. With the help of the United States Postal Service, who ran regular routes from town to town already, they would set up a dog sled relay. 20 teams would be positioned along the trail, each sled team passing the serum on to the next to keep the antitoxin continually moving. It was their only hope of receiving the serum in time.

The Trek

On January 27 the 20 pounds of serum wrapped in protective furs arrived in Nenana and was hastily put on a dog sled for Nome. The first few legs of the journey went well. Despite many of the mushers experiencing hypothermia and frostbite in the brutal winter conditions that dropped to -51 degrees Celsius (-60 Fahrenheit) the package was being successfully passed from team to team without mishap.

Things really became bad when Leonhard Seppala and his dog sled team took the package and began their trek. Seppala and his dogs were one of the last teams before making it to Nome. They were only 274 Kilometers (170 miles) from the town and there was only two days left before the antitoxin would expire. With time dwindling and weather conditions worsening Seppala made the decision to cross Norton Sound, an inlet which was covered in a thin unstable sheet of ice with patches of open water. As they crossed a blizzard rolled in plummeting the wind chill to -65 degrees celsius (-85 fahrenheit) and causing a whiteout. Seppala drove virtually blind as the high winds whipped around him and threatened to break up the ice, sending them adrift. In order to make it across the sound he had to rely on his lead sled dog Togo to navigate. Fortunately Togo was an excellent navigator, as the team slipped and slid across the ice Togo never lost his sense of direction.

After crossing the sound they had brought the serum 91 miles closer to Nome and handed it off to Charlie Olson. Olson traveled 25 miles in the harsh conditions and handed it off to Gunar Kaasen. Gunar also had to rely on his lead dog, Balto, as the snow continually obscured his vision. Balto was only three years old but had a knack for leading. Several times the high winds lifted the sled and even some of the dogs into the air but Balto kept them grounded and never lost the trail. During one such gust the sled was tipped over and the antidote went flying into a nearby snowbank. Frantic, Kaasen tore off his gloves and rooted through the freezing snow for the package. With his hands numb and experiencing mild frostbite Kaasen found the package intact and safe. He sped forward to the final team who were experiencing complications. Instead of waiting and risking the serum expiring Kaasen and his dogs continued the rest of the way.

Kaasen and Balto, Courtesy of Brown Brothers

On February 2nd at 5:30 AM Kaasen and his sled dog team arrived in Nome with only half a day left before the antitoxin would expire. Dr. Welch met Kaasen and immediately started administering the antidote to the towns patients. Sadly four dogs died of exposure during the trek but the towns 1,400 residents were saved.

Afterwards

Balto and Togo went on to achieve much fame. Balto in particular became a superstar as he was featured in movies, newspapers, and advertising campaigns. His own movie Balto’s Race to Nome launched him into fame across the country, and he soon began touring and performing in vaudeville acts. A statue was erected in New York City's Central Park in his honor and Balto himself was there during the unveiling, the statue is still there to this day. After all the fame faded away Balto lived out the rest of his life at the Cleveland Zoo and his body is now on display at the Cleveland Natural History Museum.

Balto at his statue unveiling, Courtesy of Report at Large

Seppala and his sled dogs also toured the country and appeared in advertising campaigns, but Seppala was always frustrated that Balto received all of the glory when Togo was the one who led the longest and most arduous part of the whole journey. Balto was the one who brought it into town, and as things go it made him the symbol for it all. Togo died in 1929 and his body is preserved and on display at the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race Headquarters in Wasilla, Alaska. The Peabody Museum of Natural History at Yale University retains Togo’s skeletal remains in their collection.

The different routes of the Iditarod Trail, Courtesy of the US Bureau of Land Management

The trek itself helped to solidify the Siberian Husky’s place among other dogs when in 1930 the American Kennel Club recognized them as an official breed. The journey also helped to create one of the most iconic races in the world. The Iditarod Race was formed and followed much of the same route that mushers took during the serum run. It is now held in March of every year and attracts people from all across the globe.

Togo on display at the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race Headquarters, Courtesy of The Golf Club

Balto on display at the Cleveland Natural History Museum, Courtesy of News 5 Cleveland

Personal Thoughts

The first time I heard this story was while watching an episode of Mysteries at the Museum and I became very interested in it. I’m a dog lover and any story that talks about their heroics interests me greatly. I do have sympathy for Seppala and his dog Togo as I can only imagine what it would be like to cross a thin sheet of ice while being basically blind and wind whipping at you in all directions only for another team to have all the glory. However, that's how life unfortunately goes and in the end at least Togo still gets his glory as visitors see him each year and learn about his truly amazing story.

If you would like to know more about 1925 Serum Run use my Amazon Affiliate link below to check out the book The Cruelest Miles:

Sources

http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20161014-in-1925-a-remote-town-was-saved-from-lethal-disease-by-dogs

https://www.akc.org/expert-advice/lifestyle/balto/

https://www.history.com/news/the-sled-dog-relay-that-inspired-the-iditarod

https://www.nps.gov/people/togo.htm

https://www.apnews.com/6a09d588b6184d8ab46ac86732e78f97

https://www.cdc.gov/diphtheria/index.htm

Jul 19 The Great Race of Mercy