![Exit of His Hogship and His Wife, The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1888
On This Day in Pittsburgh History: February 2, 1887
Groundhog Day, featuring a rodent meteorologist, is celebrated for the first time at Gobbler’s Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. [History.com]
According to tradition, if a groundhog comes out of its hole on this day and sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter weather; no shadow means an early spring.Groundhog Day has its roots in the ancient Christian tradition of Candlemas Day, when clergy would bless and distribute candles needed for winter. The candles represented how long and cold the winter would be. Germans expanded on this concept by selecting an animal—the hedgehog—as a means of predicting weather. Once they came to America, German settlers in Pennsylvania continued the tradition, although they switched from hedgehogs to groundhogs, which were plentiful in the Keystone State.
Punxsutawney Phil, supposedly named in honor of Prince Phillip, was also called “Br’er Groundhog” and “His Hogship” in early newspaper accounts. Clymer Freas, editor of the local paper and member of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, “used his editorial clout to proclaim that Phil, the Punxsutawney Groundhog, was the one and only official weather prognosticating groundhog.”
From The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1888:
THE GROUNDHOG ON TOP: A CLOUDY SKY GREETS HIM TODAY
Away back in the times when the neighborhood about and upon which Pittsburgers [sic] still perambulate was a medieval forest, with only a log to be seen in miles of travel, the hardy backwoodsmen used to wager their most valued possessions upon the veracity of the legend that if the groundhog saw its shadow on Feb. 2, he would retire into his hole and and Boreas would blow his blast for six weeks longer. (…)
Some overpolite Yankee, shocked by the harsh sound of the word hog, undertook to establish the word “woodchuck,” but it was no go. The groundhog of our fathers was good enough for us, and the iconoclastic Yankee has transmitted his word only to college professors and New York dudines.
As other cities began to host Groundhog Day festivities, Punxsutawney Phil faced national competition and prompted debate about the legitimacy of these events in the age of science and weather-casting.
From The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1913:
Will he see his shadow today? He will. Who says so? Forecaster Pennywitt. This means six more weeks of cold weather. Some folks say, “De sun do move;” others say it doesn’t. There are many doubting Thomases of the world. Some are even such brazen heretics as to scoff at a belief in Groundhog day. However, they’d better not air such views in Punxsatawney or its purlieus today. For today’s the day, Feb. 2, Groundhog day, when this noble, retiring, unassuming animal comes into his own as the boss weather forecaster of the “hull kentry.” Weather maps, wind gauges, barometers and thermometers are all right as far as they go; they’re good enough for a mere weather office, and perhaps help to indicate what’s to be what for the next 12 hours or so; but when it comes to foretelling the weather for a full six weeks ahead, they’re all put in the shade by old reliable Groundhog.
Other facts: In 1928, Groundhog Day was broadcast from KDKA radio in Pittsburgh from Punxsatawney. And during most of World War II, no Groundhog Day events were held because, as one Punxsatawney Club member remembered in 1963, “the Government asked us not to reveal the forecast because it would aid the enemy.”](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyq7fe9KsB1qakblyo1_500.png)
Exit of His Hogship and His Wife, The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1888
On This Day in Pittsburgh History: February 2, 1887
Groundhog Day, featuring a rodent meteorologist, is celebrated for the first time at Gobbler’s Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. [History.com]
According to tradition, if a groundhog comes out of its hole on this day and sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter weather; no shadow means an early spring.
Groundhog Day has its roots in the ancient Christian tradition of Candlemas Day, when clergy would bless and distribute candles needed for winter. The candles represented how long and cold the winter would be. Germans expanded on this concept by selecting an animal—the hedgehog—as a means of predicting weather. Once they came to America, German settlers in Pennsylvania continued the tradition, although they switched from hedgehogs to groundhogs, which were plentiful in the Keystone State.
Punxsutawney Phil, supposedly named in honor of Prince Phillip, was also called “Br’er Groundhog” and “His Hogship” in early newspaper accounts. Clymer Freas, editor of the local paper and member of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, “used his editorial clout to proclaim that Phil, the Punxsutawney Groundhog, was the one and only official weather prognosticating groundhog.”
From The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1888:
THE GROUNDHOG ON TOP: A CLOUDY SKY GREETS HIM TODAY
Away back in the times when the neighborhood about and upon which Pittsburgers [sic] still perambulate was a medieval forest, with only a log to be seen in miles of travel, the hardy backwoodsmen used to wager their most valued possessions upon the veracity of the legend that if the groundhog saw its shadow on Feb. 2, he would retire into his hole and and Boreas would blow his blast for six weeks longer. (…)
Some overpolite Yankee, shocked by the harsh sound of the word hog, undertook to establish the word “woodchuck,” but it was no go. The groundhog of our fathers was good enough for us, and the iconoclastic Yankee has transmitted his word only to college professors and New York dudines.
As other cities began to host Groundhog Day festivities, Punxsutawney Phil faced national competition and prompted debate about the legitimacy of these events in the age of science and weather-casting.
From The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1913:
Will he see his shadow today?
He will.
Who says so?
Forecaster Pennywitt.
This means six more weeks of cold weather.
Some folks say, “De sun do move;” others say it doesn’t.
There are many doubting Thomases of the world.
Some are even such brazen heretics as to scoff at a belief in Groundhog day. However, they’d better not air such views in Punxsatawney or its purlieus today.
For today’s the day, Feb. 2, Groundhog day, when this noble, retiring, unassuming animal comes into his own as the boss weather forecaster of the “hull kentry.” Weather maps, wind gauges, barometers and thermometers are all right as far as they go; they’re good enough for a mere weather office, and perhaps help to indicate what’s to be what for the next 12 hours or so; but when it comes to foretelling the weather for a full six weeks ahead, they’re all put in the shade by old reliable Groundhog.
Other facts: In 1928, Groundhog Day was broadcast from KDKA radio in Pittsburgh from Punxsatawney. And during most of World War II, no Groundhog Day events were held because, as one Punxsatawney Club member remembered in 1963, “the Government asked us not to reveal the forecast because it would aid the enemy.”
Exit of His Hogship and His Wife, The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1888
On This Day in Pittsburgh History: February 2, 1887
Groundhog Day, featuring a rodent meteorologist, is celebrated for the first time at Gobbler’s Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. [History.com]
According to tradition, if a groundhog comes out of its hole on this day and sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter weather; no shadow means an early spring.
Groundhog Day has its roots in the ancient Christian tradition of Candlemas Day, when clergy would bless and distribute candles needed for winter. The candles represented how long and cold the winter would be. Germans expanded on this concept by selecting an animal—the hedgehog—as a means of predicting weather. Once they came to America, German settlers in Pennsylvania continued the tradition, although they switched from hedgehogs to groundhogs, which were plentiful in the Keystone State.
Punxsutawney Phil, supposedly named in honor of Prince Phillip, was also called “Br’er Groundhog” and “His Hogship” in early newspaper accounts. Clymer Freas, editor of the local paper and member of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, “used his editorial clout to proclaim that Phil, the Punxsutawney Groundhog, was the one and only official weather prognosticating groundhog.”
From The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1888:
THE GROUNDHOG ON TOP: A CLOUDY SKY GREETS HIM TODAY
Away back in the times when the neighborhood about and upon which Pittsburgers [sic] still perambulate was a medieval forest, with only a log to be seen in miles of travel, the hardy backwoodsmen used to wager their most valued possessions upon the veracity of the legend that if the groundhog saw its shadow on Feb. 2, he would retire into his hole and and Boreas would blow his blast for six weeks longer. (…)
Some overpolite Yankee, shocked by the harsh sound of the word hog, undertook to establish the word “woodchuck,” but it was no go. The groundhog of our fathers was good enough for us, and the iconoclastic Yankee has transmitted his word only to college professors and New York dudines.
As other cities began to host Groundhog Day festivities, Punxsutawney Phil faced national competition and prompted debate about the legitimacy of these events in the age of science and weather-casting.
From The Pittsburg Press, Feb. 2, 1913:
Will he see his shadow today?
He will.
Who says so?
Forecaster Pennywitt.
This means six more weeks of cold weather.
Some folks say, “De sun do move;” others say it doesn’t.
There are many doubting Thomases of the world.
Some are even such brazen heretics as to scoff at a belief in Groundhog day. However, they’d better not air such views in Punxsatawney or its purlieus today.
For today’s the day, Feb. 2, Groundhog day, when this noble, retiring, unassuming animal comes into his own as the boss weather forecaster of the “hull kentry.” Weather maps, wind gauges, barometers and thermometers are all right as far as they go; they’re good enough for a mere weather office, and perhaps help to indicate what’s to be what for the next 12 hours or so; but when it comes to foretelling the weather for a full six weeks ahead, they’re all put in the shade by old reliable Groundhog.
Other facts: In 1928, Groundhog Day was broadcast from KDKA radio in Pittsburgh from Punxsatawney. And during most of World War II, no Groundhog Day events were held because, as one Punxsatawney Club member remembered in 1963, “the Government asked us not to reveal the forecast because it would aid the enemy.”
