IS SPRING NEAR? GIRARDEAU GEORGE WILL MAKE THE CALL

Is spring on its way?

Girardeau George, the region's best-known weather-forecasting groundhog, will be at his familiar spot along Route W this Groundhog Day, keeping close watch on the skies.

Motorists traveling Route W between Kingshighway and the Humane Society of Southeast Missouri shelter this morning may see the hairy little rodent scampering about the field that surrounds his home.

This could mean good news for fair-weather friends.

If they don't see George, it could be bad news.

It all depends on today's weather.

Folklore has it that on Groundhog Day, if a groundhog emerges from his winter slumber and sees his shadow, he will go back into his burrow for another six weeks of winter.

If George doesn't see his shadow, he may be observed scampering around searching for nuts and a log to sit on, celebrating the fact that spring is just around the proverbial corner in Southeast Missouri.

If George or some of his relatives -- Punxsutawney (Pa.) Phil; Gen. Beauregard Lee of Yellow River Game Ranch in Lilburn, Ga.; or Wiarton Willie, an albino groundhog from Wiarton, Canada -- don't see their shadows, spring is just around the corner.

Punxsutawney Phil is the most famous of the groundhog crowd. Phil and his ancestors have been involved in the weather-forecasting business for more than a century, and people the nation over await his annual prediction.

Girardeau George became Southeast Missouri's best-known groundhog from the early 1970s to the mid-1980s. After handing out predictions for more than a decade, he took a woodchuck sabbatical before returning to issue his predictions once again in the mid-1990s.

George's impending return was revealed in 1995 by an anonymous note from George (or one of his clan) that was forwarded to this writer.

Most of the time George and Phil don't enter early-spring predictions: Over the years, both George and Phil have predicted six more weeks of winter more than 45 percent of the time, including last year when all of the "big-name" groundhogs remained topside for a short while before seeing their shadows.

George doesn't enjoy all the hype of his better-known ancestors, Phil and Wiarton, when he does debut under cloudy skies. While the former two make their predictions in front of large crowds, George has a lonely life along Route W.

"Somebody driving by in a car may see me," he said when he debuted two years ago with only yours truly present. "But where is your photographer? And where are the TV cameras? You're the only one who ever sees me here. Where's the cast of cheering thousands?"

George may not draw the crowd, but he makes his appearance anyway.

"You watch, you just watch, you'll see me," he said. "I may just peep out, see some sun and jump back into my hole."

George posed the same questions he has asked for years.

"Who thought up all this groundhog business anyhow? Don't you people have anything better to do than to go around pestering furry little forest creatures?"

Groundhogs aren't the only weather prognosticators. In years past a St. Louis pot-bellied pig named Bacon filled in for Whistler, a groundhog who died at the St. Louis Zoo the year before. But the zoo has since replaced Whistler with a new groundhog, Chester.

And, of course, all those little woolly worms made their predictions months ago.

Groundhogs have been in the weather prediction business for more than a century.

The Punxsutawney legend was born in 1882 at Philadelphia, and each year when Phil delivers his verdict on Feb. 2, it is dutifully recorded and reported on the floor of the U.S. House of Representatives and noted in the Congressional Record.

In centuries past, many people believed that animals had an uncanny ability to predict the weather. The Germans and English observed that hibernating bears and badgers sometimes began to stir around this time of year, and they hoped it was a sign of better weather to come.

The groundhog gained the honor of making the "official" prediction of spring in this country. Feb. 2 was selected as the perfect day for predictions because it falls halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. That date, even before the days of groundhog forecasting, has long been celebrated in folk culture as the day to turn backs on winter and begin looking forward to spring.

George's prediction hasn't made it to the White House yet. Maybe that is the reason he gave up weather prognosticating a few years ago. But he's back ... and who knows? Perhaps in future years George's forecast may be placed before the Missouri Legislature.

Anyway, today is Groundhog Day, and as dawn breaks the groundhogs will be out. The outcomes will soon be recorded.

Why more winter if the groundhog sees his shadow? It would seem if the weather was nice enough to see a shadow winter would be over!

A search for the answer reveals that it really has nothing to do with groundhogs.

In Europe, the same legend has been attached to bears, badgers and hedgehogs. German immigrants brought it to North America in the 19th century, and not finding any hedgehogs, settled on the somewhat similar (it's small and it hibernates) woodchuck, AKA groundhog.

Not that you need any animals of any sort. Early Christians in Europe established the custom of Candlemas Day, when the clergy would bless candles and people would light them in each window of their home to ward off the darkness of mid-winter.

Some studies have found that groundhog-driven predictions were right only 37 percent of the time,. This means that you would be right 63 percent of the time if you said that sunny weather on Feb. 2 means "good weather ahead."