Here we are in the little town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to learn about the groundhog who enthralls the nation once a year.
The famed rodent is protected and cared for by the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club’s Inner Circle, a friendly retinue of 15 local gentlemen in top hats with nicknames such as “Iceman” and “Moonshine.”
Even though the rodent is the star of Groundhog Day, which takes place annually every February 2, when he predicts either an early spring or six more weeks of winter, the men who surround him are no less interesting.
One fine morning, we met with Tom Dunkel, aka “Shingle Shaker,” the president of this hallowed group. He runs a roofing business, but today he is formally dressed, wearing the top hat and long coat characteristic of the Inner Circle members.
He has a cheerful air about him and is prone to spontaneous bursts of laughter—not unlike a kindly Santa Claus. He is clean-shaven when we meet him, but around Thanksgiving he starts growing a beard in anticipation of Groundhog Day: “It does add a certain gravitas. It’s all gray, and it makes me look way more wise than I am,” he mused.
He says he is a simple guy. His father was the groundhog’s handler and also president of the Inner Circle for about 15 years, so Mr. Dunkel was used to having Phil around his house.
“I’ve lived in the same house my whole life, I’ve had the same job my whole life, and it’s just been a simple life. I love it. It’s a great community to live in. People are so nice. It’s easy here,” he said.
He may be a simple guy, but he’s got some phenomenal superpowers and magic objects at his disposal.
“I have a cane that lets me talk with Phil,” he said. As it turns out, only the Inner Circle’s president is granted the power to converse in “Groundhogese.”
Phil’s longevity is the stuff of legends. Mr. Dunkel maintains that it is the same Phil who has been delivering predictions since the 19th century.
Every summer, the Inner Circle organizes a summer picnic, where the special event is giving Phil the “Elixir of Life.”
“Every sip he takes gives him seven years of longevity,” Mr. Dunkel said. “That’s why there’s only been one Phil. This will be his 138th year on Groundhog Day.”
He is careful to say that the elixir does not work on humans. In fact, it has the opposite effect. “They use me as an example of how humans can’t drink it because I’m only 18 years old,” said the gray-haired Mr. Dunkel.
The Groundhog Day Phenomenon
When Mr. Dunkel was a young boy about 8 or 9, there was a small field where Phil would give his yearly prognostication. There would be about 50 to 100 people in attendance.As time went on, with a larger field and an amphitheater, TV news started covering the event.
And the year after the 1993 movie “Groundhog Day” was released, 30,000 people came.
These days, there are between 20,000 and 40,000 who attend—in a little town of 6,000 people.
“Everybody that comes to Groundhog Day is like someone who would climb Mount Everest because it’s not easy,” Mr. Dunkel said. “It’s dark. It’s literally in the middle of the night; people get here at 3 a.m. It could be 3 degrees, could be 30 degrees, but it’s cold.”
The energy on that night is palpable. Some arrive via school buses plied into service by the town, a few lucky hundred snag parking passes, and others walk through the fields, taking shortcuts specially created for the event.
Groundhog Day is a bucket-list item for many. “Everybody is excited to be there. It’s magical,” Mr. Dunkel said. “Somebody will come and experience Groundhog Day, and when they go home, they tell their friends and their family, and then the next year there’s 10 of them.”
There are the regulars who have attended Groundhog Day 15 to 20 times. There are those whose birthday falls on February 2 (Mr. Dunkel estimates there are a couple thousand of such people every year). And then there are always several couples who get married that day.
At 7:25 am, sunrise time, the show begins. Mr. Dunkel and the Inner Circle welcome the crowd. Mr. Dunkel taps on a little door three times, and Phil, like a superstar, is held aloft, high above the crowds in the air like a lion cub in “Circle-of-Life” style, to “roars of happiness.”
Then Mr. Dunkel starts a discussion with Phil in Groundhogese: “You know, winks, nods, twitching of the eyes; he’ll communicate to me which scroll he’d like me to choose”—that announces six more weeks of winter or an early spring.
Phil is, by nature, “noble, stoic,” Mr. Dunkel said. The humans—not so much.
Predictions of an early spring traditionally get louder cheers; six more weeks of winter draw some boos. But no matter what, Mr. Dunkel maintains, with a twinkle in his eye, that Phil has always been correct—especially if you figure out that six more weeks of winter takes you right to the start of spring, or that Phil’s predictions are not location-specific.
‘Celebration With a Destination’
“One of our past presidents has said that there’s a lot of important things happening around the world—and Groundhog Day is not one of them,” Mr. Dunkel said. “It’s a nice tradition. It’s a celebration in the middle of winter when you can have a good time.”“It’s the only national holiday with the destination,” he added. “You can’t go to Christmas or Valentine’s Day but you can go to Groundhog Day. So that’s one of the things that makes it so special is it’s a celebration with a destination.”
And it’s one that everyone in the small town of Punxsutawney spends months working on to welcome visitors from all over the world.