Feb. 2 commemorates the 140th Groundhog Day celebration in America. Or is it Feb. 14? More on that later.
Every year, people gather at Gobbler’s Knob, in the small town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania (population 5,587), the self-proclaimed “Weather Capital of the World,” to witness an ancient meteorological tradition. Every year, famous furry weatherman, Punxsutawney Phil, a 20-pound groundhog, emerges from his long winter sleep to look for his shadow. If he sees it, he runs back into his burrow with the prediction of six more weeks of winter. If he does not see his shadow, he stays above ground, predicting an early spring.
How accurate is Punxsutawney Phil? Well, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), he is right about 35% of the time.
Groundhog Day, as we know it today, dates to an early Christian tradition called Candlemas that started in the fourth century in Jerusalem as a celebration of Jesus’ presentation in the Temple. Jewish law required mothers to present their firstborn sons in the Temple 40 days after birth for purification and to dedicate the child to God. Originally, Candlemas was celebrated on Feb. 14; however, in A.D. 542, Emperor Justinian I moved the official date to Feb. 2 — 40 days after Christmas, aligning it with Mosaic law for purification and marking the end of the Christmas season. Candlemas marks the midpoint between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, making it a cross-quarter day, which ancient cultures celebrated as the waning of winter and the coming of spring, when animals would begin to emerge from hibernation.
An old English folk song provides insight into how Candlemas became associated with weather forecasting: “If Candlemas be fair and bright, Come Winter, have another flight. If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, Go Winter, and come not again.” However, it was German folklore that associated it with a badger. If the badger saw his shadow on Candlemas, there would be six more weeks of winter, and if not, then an early return of spring. Orthodox churches celebrate Christmas on Jan. 7 because they follow the older Julian calendar and not the modern Gregorian calendar used in Western countries. This is why some cultures in the Ozarks used to celebrate Groundhog Day on Feb. 14.
As German settlers came to the United States, this tradition came with them. The Pennsylvania Dutch (of German descent, not Dutch) chose a similar and plentiful hibernating animal in America, the groundhog. The now-famous observation at Gobbler’s Knob began in 1887, when members of the local Elks Lodge first went to consult a groundhog about the weather. It was on Feb. 2, 1887, that Punxsutawney Phil’s weather predictions began.
This tradition has continued and was made even more popular by the Bill Murray movie “Groundhog Day.” After its 1993 release, attendance at Gobbler’s Knob exploded from about 5,000 to 50,000 people, even if “Groundhog Day” was actually filmed in quaint Woodstock, Illinois. The movie created a new pop culture meaning for “Groundhog Day,” captured in this famous line from Murray’s character, Phil Connors, a Pittsburgh TV weatherman. Phil asks, “What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing you did mattered?”
This brings me to the real point of the story — not that Punxsutawney Phil’s prognostication isn’t interesting, especially if he predicts an early spring with corresponding lower electric bills for our members.
The real point: These days, it can feel like America is stuck on Groundhog Day. Another famous quote from the movie, “Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn’t one today,” captures it well. According to the movie’s director, Harold Ramis, Phil was trapped in the Groundhog Day time loop for about 30 years. With our political parties so polarized and on opposite ends of nearly every issue, each election cycle has us feeling like Phil, stuck in Punxsutawney, living the same day over and over again. Two steps forward and two steps back. No decision — or failure to make a meaningful decision — is a decision and it is almost always the wrong decision. Complete swings in national policy are brutal for the electric utility industry, where decisions on power generation and transmission infrastructure are 30- to 50-year decisions, costing members millions and sometimes billions of dollars.
On Dec. 17, 2025, I received a letter from Secretary of Energy Chris Wright, appointing me to the newly reconstituted National Coal Council, in accordance with the National Coal Council Reestablishment Act (H.R. 3015) of September 2025, for the purpose of advising the Secretary of Energy on matters related to coal and the coal industry.
Given the challenges America is facing with grid reliability, power shortages and rising electricity prices, along with the need for onshoring manufacturing and AI data centers for national security, the current administration is concentrating on coal’s role in America’s energy security. I fully support this focus, which represents a 180-degree shift in national policy.
Every morning, Phil knew he was still stuck in a time loop when he awoke to his alarm clock playing, “I Got You Babe” by Sonny & Cher with the radio announcers proclaiming, “OK, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s coooold out there today!” When Phil finally broke out of the time loop, he knew it because his alarm clock played something new.
I am excited to serve on the National Coal Council and hope that when I travel to Washington, D.C., for the meetings, I wake up in my hotel room to an alarm clock that is playing something new. A song signifying that we have broken out of the indecision time loop and are pushing forward on energy policy that has the staying power to address America’s most critical needs and long-term stability