Harry Briggs - An Inspiration!

HARRY BRIGGS —AN AMERICAN ORIGINAL

 

Early in 1995 an older gentleman came to see me in my office at NHTI-Concord, where I was then working as Public Information Officer. He explained that even though he was 74-years-old, he wanted to do a 12-mile lake swim, and was looking for someone to help him organize and publicize it.

 

I didn’t really need an extra project, on top of everything else I was doing, but I listened patiently to his story. After I learned that Harry Briggs was a fellow Marine, a veteran of World War II’s Pacific Campaigns, I knew I’d do what I could to help him pursue his dream.

Could a 74-year-old swim 12 miles? Time would tell. But who was this interesting stranger with such an unusual goal?

 

Harry’s Story

I learned that Harry had enjoyed a consequential life, beyond his World War II experiences, which ended with him being sent to Nagasaki not long after that Japanese city was destroyed by an atomic bomb.

A native of Melrose, Mass., Harry attended Tilton Prep and then majored in history at Tufts University, graduating in 1942 before enlisting in the Marines in 1943. He later earned a Masters Degree at Boston University and then a Ph.D. at Western Reserve University in Cleveland.

A natural athlete, Harry coached varsity hockey at Tufts for two years, and later played semi-professionally for the Akron (Ohio) Stars. He also worked as a sportswriter for the old Boston Post before serving as a civilian historian for the U.S. Army. He also worked in insurance.

In 1952 he returned to ice hockey and worked that winter for the Buffalo Hockey Club, then a member of the American Hockey League. The next year he used his hockey background to get a job managing the Boston Arena.

Not only did Harry change jobs frequently in those days, but he also fell in love several times. Sadly, things never worked out and so he signed up for a two-year billet as a recreation consultant with the U.S. Army in Europe. It was there that he decided to attempt his first marathon swim, a 16-mile journey through shark-infested waters between the Mediterranean islands of Corsica and Sardinia.

To train for the swim, Harry climbed Switzerland’s Matterhorn Mountain, one of the most difficult climbs in the world.

 

“It was thrilling and terrifying,” said Harry. “But it was the worst thing I could have done before a swim. It tightened my muscles badly and my toenails were black from coming down 13 miles to the base camp in Zurmatt. I was almost crippled. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.”

Undaunted, Harry still traveled to Corsica with a friend and made arrangements for that epic swim—which he completed despite sharks, windy weather, and dangerous rocks on the Sardinian shore.

Harry returned to Corsica (on a boat!) and was feted as a hero. Wire services sent news of his swim all around the world. Harry found the subsequent attention to be quite validating and when he returned to the U.S. he pondered what he might do for a swimming encore.

In 1956 Harry was drilling as a Marine Corps reservist when the infamous Ribbon Creek Massacre occurred at Parris Island (S.C.) Marine Corps Recruit Depot. Six recruits drowned during a night movement and suddenly there was national interest in Marine training and swimming. The Marine Reserves decided to support Harry in his quest to become the first person to swim across Lake Erie, from Canada to the U.S.  A flotilla of ten ships and half a battalion of Marines accompanied Harry for 18 miles before a big storm ended his attempt—twelve miles short.  He tried again two months later, but the lower water temperature proved to be a showstopper. Harry was pulled from the lake after 20 miles.

“I felt like a disgrace to myself, my family, and the Marine Corps,” recalled Harry. “I was so despondent that I decided I’d go up to Alaska, the last frontier, to get my head together.”

While in Alaska, Harry quickly found a job with the Crippled Children’s Association and then got involved again in ice hockey, organizing the Alaska AAU Hockey Tournament. He then went to work for the Anchorage Baseball League before becoming a sportscaster for KENI, and eventually did interview pieces with high profile sports visitors to Alaska like Ted Williams, Billy Martin, and Vin Scully.

 

But his Lake Erie failures haunted Harry. He trained hard in the cold Alaskan waters and in August of 1957 he returned to Ohio and escorted by four boats he dove into a polluted Lake Erie and began swimming north towards Canada. Twenty four hours later he was still swimming, and was within four miles of the Canadian shore when a 25 mile north wind whipped up four foot waves, driving Harry away from his goal.

“But at that point I was in a ‘do or die” mode and just kept on,” said Harry.

He almost died.  It took him ten hours to complete those last four miles, but Harry finally set his foot down on the Canadian shore, having completed a 32 mile swim in 34 hours and 55 minutes.  His eyes were swollen shut and he couldn’t stand up. Canadian life guards got him to a doctor who treated him for hypothermia and got him into bed.

Then the fun began. An auto company flew him to New York City, where he appeared on the nationally televised Ed Sullivan Show. Gay Talese did a feature on him for the New York Times. Sports Illustrated ran a story as well.

“I received telegrams of congratulations from all over the country,” recalled Harry. “It was so motivating.”

Harry returned to Alaska, pondering his next big swim.

 

Lydia

Still a bachelor at age 37, Harry dated often, but had never met the right woman—until the spring of 1958, when he met Lydia, who encouraged Harry’s dreams and even swam with him as he trained. An extraordinarily beautiful woman, Lydia was the daughter of a German prostitute, and she never knew who her father was. She and her mother fled the Nazis and ended up in New York City. Lydia’s adventurous spirit led her to travel to many places and she eventually ended up in Alaska. She and Harry married got married on Dec. 31, 1958 in Wasilla—a town which later received notoriety after Sarah Palin was elected mayor there. Harry and Lydia were one of the last couples to be married in the territory of Alaska, which became the 49^th state four days later.

 

New Hampshire

Harry never forgot his New England roots and when visiting the east coast he often hiked in the New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

“Climbing mountains is a great way to gain leg strength,” explained Harry. “But I never repeated my Matterhorn mistake of doing too strenuous of a climb too close to a big swim.”

 

Harry and Lydia fell in love with the Granite State when Harry trained in N.H. for a record-setting Lake Michigan swim in 1960. The next year they bought property on Route 175 in Campton, where they eventually established the “Eskimo Shop,” that Harry still owns and runs today. Motorists traveling Route 175 now recognize it as “The Chalet,” a gift and antique shop.

In 1963 the new Granite Stater turned his swimming sights to Lake Winnipesaukee, that most wonderful of lakes.  On Saturday, August 31, he embarked on a circuitous 31 mile swim from Alton Bay to Wolfeboro and eventually to Weirs Beach. This marathon swim lasted 33 hours and 12 minutes, and like his Lake Erie swim, attracted much attention.  Laconia Mayor Hugh Bownes issued a decree making Harry an honorary Laconia citizen and proclaimed “Saturday, September 7, 1963, to be HARRY BRIGGS DAY in honor of this intrepid feat.”

End of Swim Career?

 

Harry did some work for Belknap College in those days, and “Doctor Briggs” was sometimes referred to as the “Paddling Professor.” He did another 22 mile Lake Winnipesaukee swim in 1964, but at age 43 the marathons were taking a toll, not just on Harry’s body but on Lydia’s psyche as well.

 

“She wanted me to end the swimming because of the risks and also so we could concentrate more on our work,” said Harry. “So in the next 30 years I didn’t swim ten strokes.”

Through 1991 Harry and Lydia built their businesses, traveled the globe, played tennis, and worked on their unique, special relationship. But that relationship ended abruptly when Lydia suffered a stroke at The Chalet and died hours later at Plymouth hospital.

 

“After they took the tubes out, we were alone for a while, and I held her hand,” Harry recalled. “Then I looked at her for the last time and saw that the suffering had left her face and she had the most angelic smile I had ever seen. That smile convinced me there is an afterlife. I touched her hair, gave her my best Marine salute, and walked out the hospital room door with tears running down my face.”

1995

 

The loss of Lydia understandably left Harry shattered, but he pressed on with his life and tried to think of ways to honor his beloved spouse. Among other things, he donated funds to Plymouth State University’s tennis program in Lydia’s memory.  Then one day he read a story of a long-distance swimmer who swam the length of Lake Winnipesaukee. The press account stated that it was the first time such a feat had been accomplished.

 

Harry—the honorary Laconia citizen—was surprised and disappointed. He dug out an old plaque commemorating his 1963 swim and while holding it he suddenly felt that old desire to swim, for the first time in 30 years. You could take Harry out of the water, but you couldn’t take the water out of Harry. A competitive athlete still resided inside the old Marine.

Which is what brought him to my office that day in 1995.

We talked about possibilities and he said he wanted to swim Golden Pond—Squam Lake—and I was candid with the old “Paddling Professor.”

 

“Can a 74-year-old swim 12 miles?” I asked.

 

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think I could,” said Harry, who explained he was motivated by that earlier press account, as well as by Lydia’s memory.

We talked about logistics and publicity and Harry promised to train. A fellow World War II Marine had a place on Squam Lake and Harry regularly hit the lake there. We “tested the waters” with a two mile swim across Little Squam Lake, and followed that up with a five mile swim the length of Newfound Lake. The local media began to take notice and an Associated Press story about Harry’s swimming ran in newspapers all over northern New England.

 

Then it was time for the big test. Almost 12 miles, starting at the extreme east end of Squam Lake on Sandwich Beach, and ending three counties and five towns later, on Ashland Beach at the extreme west end of Little Squam Lake.

 

Numerous boats went by the “Paddling Professor” during his day-long swim, as people from all over Golden Pond yelled their encouragement. A nice crowd awaited Harry on the Ashland Beach. Harry emerged from the water to cheers and put on a robe and was warmed by the hugs of his new fans before doing an interview with a reporter from Channel 9.

Could a 74-year-old swim 12 miles? The answer was YES! 

2013

 

Fast-forward 18 years to 2013. As occurred in 1995, an older gentleman unexpectedly showed up outside my office door at NHTI-Concord. It was Harry Briggs. I was surprised and delighted to reconnect with the old Marine and he caught me up on his adventures.  At age 92 he was still buying and selling antiques and “The Chalet” was still doing business on Route 175 in Campton. He wintered in Louisiana where he swam when he could while serving as an adjunct professor of American Government at Northwestern State University.  He’d driven his van all the way from Louisiana to N.H.

“Will you help me with another swim?” he finally asked.

“Well,” I said.  “Let’s talk.”

Harry shared that he’d been inducted into the International Marathon Swimming Hall of Fame and he wanted to try at least one more distance swim. We eventually decided that, as in 1995, we’d start by trying a two mile swim across Little Squam Lake.

Later, the good folks at Plymouth State University indicated a desire to help with the project and we met and identified Labor Day, September 2, 2013, as a target day to do a Squam Lake swim.  Harry is training once again.

 

After our first organizational meeting, I drive back towards Concord and thought about what an extraordinary man Harry Briggs is.  His proposed 2013 lake swim would occur 70 years after he enlisted in the Marine Corps and headed off to witness some of the horrors of World War II’s Pacific Campaign. A 2013 swim would be 50 years after his 1963 Lake Winnipesaukee Swim—Sept. 7 being the Golden Anniversary of HARRY BRIGGS DAY.  During a time when unprecedented numbers of Americans are on food stamps, 92-year-old Harry Briggs is still earning a living, running a business, paying taxes, and teaching at a university. During a time when America faces an obesity epidemic, this man­—born in 1921—again wants to swim the length of one of N.H.’s most famous lakes.

Can a 92-year-old swim the length of Little Squam Lake?

I wouldn’t bet against it!