Jackson Progress-Argus

Michael Davis

We are quickly approaching one of the most important dates on the calendar this year. What happens on this day will shape events in our lives for months, if not years to come. What happens on this day will go down in history to be remembered by our children and grandchildren, and their grandchildren.

No, it’s not the Nevada caucuses. It’s not Super Tuesday. It’s not the Republican National Convention or the general election.

It hits much, much more close to home.

Thursday is Groundhog Day.

Each Feb. 2 for well over 100 years, a small furry creature is plucked from a hole in Pennsylvania by a guy in a top hat. According to lore -- you know, the most accurate set of facts one can have -- if the groundhog doesn’t see his shadow, we’ll be in for an early spring. If he sees his shadow, hold on for at least six more weeks of winter.

The tradition goes back to 1887, when some guys known as the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club first began to rely on Phil as the oracle of weather omens. It’s based on the German legend of Candlemas Day that, according to the Groundhog Club’s web site, holds that, “For as the sun shines on Candlemas Day, so far will the snow swirl in May...”

(Here’s where I should point out that the Groundhog Club’s web site is a vehicle for promoting Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney, and in that spirit is given to slight embellishment).

But old Punxsutawney Phil, who they swear has never been wrong and will be making his 126th prognostication this year -- he drinks a special elixir that keeps him young and spry -- isn’t the only groundhog game around.

Up in Gwinnett County, right here in Georgia, there’s a critter by the name of Gen. Beauregard Lee, at the Yellow River Game Ranch, who gives Phil a run for his money each year.

Beau, the holder of a doctorate of weather prognostication and doctorate of Southern groundology from two of our most prestigious institutions, resides in the white-columned Weathering Heights plantation at the game ranch. And for years he’s attracted worldwide attention as an alternative to Phil’s approach.

After all, Atlanta weather is like the weather nowhere else on earth, so why not have our own forecaster? It could also be that the weather’s nicer in February in Georgia than it is in Pennsylvania, so more reporters come.

But unlike the Punxsutawney tradition, the folks at the game ranch don’t go in and get Dr. Lee at 7:20 a.m. They wait for him to amble out of his own accord, which could pretty much be any time.

Till then, I know I’ll be waiting patiently for word of his next forecast. It never hurts to plan for the future.

Michael Davis is the managing editor of the Jackson Progress-Argus.