Groundhogs ... and the march of time

The winter of 1903–04 was apparently a cold one, at least in Virginia. And too long. That faithful weather forecaster, the groundhog, had on February 2 proclaimed six more weeks of winter as he returned to his cozy burrow. 

So winter continued, a situation that the Richmond (VA) Times-Dispatch had tongue-in-cheek blamed squarely on the “evil spell” of the “ground hog.” However, that “universally accepted weather prophet” had not stayed in his “winter retreat” for the entire six weeks but apparently had had “two weeks of his sentence to solitary confinement ... commuted for good behavior.” He, and the missus, had indeed emerged early, a fact proven by “his carcass ... lying in state in the Times Building for the publc (sic) view.” While breaking their fast, on frogs and whatever other appetizing edibles they could find, they were unceremoniously killed by “Mr. P. Bracey, of Bracey’s (sic), Va., near where the Seaboard Air Line Railway crosses the Roanoke River. Mr. Bracey sent the carcass to The Times-Dispatch, accompanied by a letter in which he says: ‘I hope the winter of our discontent is a thing of the past, and that we shall have glorious spring now.’ ”

Ah, how things stay the same over the years ... and how they differ!!

This year we will again be watching for the emergence of the groundhog, or ground hog — both spellings are permissible. But while Punxsutawney Phil will be met with a noisy fanfare, at least he will not have to fear a reception committee with a shotgun. And any other groundhog that might be killed in the weeks following most likely will not be killed for the purpose of proving that he had emerged earlier than expected and that “glorious spring” will soon be present. 

No groundhog need fear lying in state in the Times Building because, although the Richmond Times-Dispatch is still with us, proper etiquette no longer allows animal carcasses to lie in state, in a newspaper office or ... well, probably anywhere. 

And while Bracey, Virginia, still exists, the railroad tracks were pulled up a few decades ago, the Roanoke River at that location is now Lake Gaston (the result of a dam across the Roanoke, at Gaston, NC), and an interstate highway now runs atop where Paschal (“Pack”) Bracey’s childhood home once stood.

Time, winters, and groundhogs march on.