Text Version of Audio Story: Balto - copyright 2007 Nelson Lauver - May not be reprinted, reproduced or published without permission


January 20, 1925. The desperate cry went out by radio telegraph from the snow and ice bound village of Nome, Alaska.

�Nome calling. Nome calling. We have an outbreak of diphtheria; no serum. Urgently need help. Nome calling. Nome calling.�

The frantic search had begun to save the children of Nome, Alaska from the Black Death.

�Seattle calling. Seattle calling. Fresh serum available here. Airplane standing by to fly to Nome.�

The weather in Alaska was so horrific that the open cockpit planes of the 1920s would never be able to make it.

�Anchorage calling. Anchorage calling. 300,000 units of serum located in railway hospital here. Package can be shipped by train to Nenana. Package weighs twenty pounds. Could serum be carried to Nome by mail deliverers and dog teams on the Iditarod trail?�

At the rail station more than 650 miles away from Nome, the incredible odyssey of man and dog would begin. Green, Foldier, Joseph, Nikolai, McCarthy, Pitka, Noner � only the best mushers in Alaska � each would do a leg on the trail, white men and Indians, nearly two dozen in all, taking their teams into 30, 40, 50 degree below temperatures. And finally, the last man to carry the serum on the great race of mercy, Gunner.

As he mushed away into a blizzard, they said he would never make it. Balto, the lead dog, would not have been Gunner�s first choice, but he had no other options. Gunner soon came to realize though that Balto knew the importance of this run. Balto took on the responsibility and soon gained stamina, cunning and strength of almost biblical proportion. Newspaper reporters told the story, and the people of the world held their breath, waiting to see if Balto could instinctively guide them through the blinding storm.

At the next stop, where Gunner and Balto were to be replaced, all the men were sleeping, as they were sure all was lost. Gunner and the team, led by Balto, continued on for Nome. Blinding snows, winds that upset the sled and tangled the dogs, Gunner would right the sled and untangle the dogs, but it was all up to Balto now. Gunner couldn�t see five feet in front of him. All he could do is hang on and trust Balto to know the way and guide the team around danger. It was up to Balto to save the children of Nome, Alaska.

On February 2, right before daybreak, Balto led his team down the quiet, ice-packed main street of Nome. Every step that Balto took was leaving bloody paw prints in the snow. They stopped in front of the hospital. The Black Death was crushed. The children of Nome, Alaska were saved, and the world cheered for Balto.
After much national fanfare, Balto and his team were soon forgotten. They ended up in a circus sideshow. While in Los Angeles, Cleveland businessman George Kimble saw the dogs. He knew the famous story of Balto and was sickened to see the dog so ill and mistreated. Kimble struck a deal to buy Balto and his mates and take them to Cleveland. He had but two weeks to raise the cash.

The race was on again. Ironically, this time it was children racing to save Balto. The school children of Cleveland collected pennies, dimes and nickels. People everywhere were helping. Two days short of the deadline, the headlines read: �City Smashes Over Top With Balto Fund! Huskies To Be Shipped From Coast At Once.�

They were given a heroes parade upon arriving in Cleveland. The team was moved to their new, comfortable home at the Cleveland zoo, where 15,000 people showed up to greet them. They were able to live out their lives in dignity and honor.

Balto � half husky, half wolf � lived to be eleven years old and died on March 14, 1933. There�s a life-sized statue of Balto in New York�s Central Park. It�s only fitting that after more than 70 years, it has become shiny and smooth in places � from children petting it.

Broadcasting from the Juniata Valley, I�m the American Storyteller.