Powelton Village, Phila.--Last week, in the middle of the night, Becky Meyers was startled from her slumber by a 2:30 am wake up call. The voice at the other end delivered only two simple words to the groggy University of Pennsylvania philosophy professor before hanging up. "Icy, icy." A tear rolled down her cheek and into her wide, teeth-baring grin.
Meyers, along with roughly 750 other like-minded individuals, impatiently wait for these two words every year. The Schuylkill River First-Freeze Festival Club is a group of cold weather enthusiasts that celebrate the arrival of an ice-covered Schuylkill River.
"Obviously this event is totally dependent of Mother Nature," said Kent Crossman, who was elected secretary of the club, a three-year term, after a controversial recount last spring. "It began in 1898 and, including this year, has been held 81 times. It's sad for all of our members when the river doesn't entirely freeze from bank to bank over the course of a winter. I've experienced a few of those."
Because the river ice can melt as fast as it freezes, the club is on call 24 hours a day beginning in mid to late November, in the rare case that the region sustains a cold weather spell earlier than expected. When the call finally comes, the members gather along the shores with folding chairs, picnic tables, hot beverages and more varieties of soup than are known to exist before delicately venturing onto the ice.
"Really, the main goal of the club and the First-Freeze Festival is to throw a party on thin ice and see who can last the longest without falling through," said Meyers. "We've gotten so good at this that we haven't had a person fall through the ice, which is often less than an inch thick, since I've been a member. That's 27 years."
Today, the internet and telephone facilitate the communication between these frigid freaks, but early on it was a rookie member's job to sit by the river and ... watch.
"In the early 1900's, new members would be chosen to watch the river to alert others when a freeze occurred on the Schuylkill," said Meyers. "They would then run through the streets clapping and shouting, 'icy, icy.' There are also accounts of these 'freeze warners' using musical triangles to assist projection."
Kyle Grubbs has been a member since 2002 and although he wouldn't get into specifics about his technique to remaining on the dry side of the ice, he did hint about weight distribution.
"I've adapted my technique over the years," said the Northern Liberties accountant. "At first, I would put all of my weight on one foot. Club membership forbids me to give technique details, but let's just say I don't use the one foot method anymore."
For years, the city made every effort to put a halt to this dangerous past time. The pressure from law enforcement to end the event, however, became severe in 1920 after 350 people died after crashing through the ice beneath the South Street Bridge. Club president at the time Rory O'Reilly, later attributed the catastrophe to the warmer waters that usually collect under bridges, a fact unknown until 1921.
The club, however, would not go away. And so in 1922, the First-Freeze Festival Club and the city agreed that new members would have to be trained in the art of thin-ice maneuvering and needed to pass a board-approved exam to become a member.
"If it wasn't for those persistent club members of 1922," said Crossman, "we wouldn't be freezing our @$$e$ off today."
Meyers, along with roughly 750 other like-minded individuals, impatiently wait for these two words every year. The Schuylkill River First-Freeze Festival Club is a group of cold weather enthusiasts that celebrate the arrival of an ice-covered Schuylkill River.
"Obviously this event is totally dependent of Mother Nature," said Kent Crossman, who was elected secretary of the club, a three-year term, after a controversial recount last spring. "It began in 1898 and, including this year, has been held 81 times. It's sad for all of our members when the river doesn't entirely freeze from bank to bank over the course of a winter. I've experienced a few of those."
Because the river ice can melt as fast as it freezes, the club is on call 24 hours a day beginning in mid to late November, in the rare case that the region sustains a cold weather spell earlier than expected. When the call finally comes, the members gather along the shores with folding chairs, picnic tables, hot beverages and more varieties of soup than are known to exist before delicately venturing onto the ice.
"Really, the main goal of the club and the First-Freeze Festival is to throw a party on thin ice and see who can last the longest without falling through," said Meyers. "We've gotten so good at this that we haven't had a person fall through the ice, which is often less than an inch thick, since I've been a member. That's 27 years."
Today, the internet and telephone facilitate the communication between these frigid freaks, but early on it was a rookie member's job to sit by the river and ... watch.
"In the early 1900's, new members would be chosen to watch the river to alert others when a freeze occurred on the Schuylkill," said Meyers. "They would then run through the streets clapping and shouting, 'icy, icy.' There are also accounts of these 'freeze warners' using musical triangles to assist projection."
Kyle Grubbs has been a member since 2002 and although he wouldn't get into specifics about his technique to remaining on the dry side of the ice, he did hint about weight distribution.
"I've adapted my technique over the years," said the Northern Liberties accountant. "At first, I would put all of my weight on one foot. Club membership forbids me to give technique details, but let's just say I don't use the one foot method anymore."
For years, the city made every effort to put a halt to this dangerous past time. The pressure from law enforcement to end the event, however, became severe in 1920 after 350 people died after crashing through the ice beneath the South Street Bridge. Club president at the time Rory O'Reilly, later attributed the catastrophe to the warmer waters that usually collect under bridges, a fact unknown until 1921.
The club, however, would not go away. And so in 1922, the First-Freeze Festival Club and the city agreed that new members would have to be trained in the art of thin-ice maneuvering and needed to pass a board-approved exam to become a member.
"If it wasn't for those persistent club members of 1922," said Crossman, "we wouldn't be freezing our @$$e$ off today."
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