My alarm was set for midnight, but I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned in the bed of our Pittsburgh Airbnb, trying to imagine what the morning would bring. All I knew was that I was about to leave, alongside 13 of my closest friends, for Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania.
Armed with energy drinks and loud music to keep us awake, we ventured to Gobbler’s Knob. We stopped along the way and got some strange looks from the locals, who had no reasonable explanation for the 14 of us in our suits at a gas station at 12:30 a.m.
Even in the sea of strange costumes in front of the stage, our blazers and khakis stood out. Inner circle members noticed us from the stage, and TikTok influencers interviewed us with their mini microphones.
We stood backstage around 4 a.m., seeking shelter in a bus — the only source of heat. The nerves reached their peak. We warmed up, both our bodies and our voices, and had some final moments of zen before we walked onto the stage.
Some 40,000 people. I couldn’t even see the back of the crowd. The faces in the back turned into blurry dots.
Our first set wasn’t perfect. We couldn’t hear ourselves singing, so we had no idea how we sounded. A Spanish radio broadcast cut off our classic Hilltopper bit of introducing ourselves, but we kept going. The show must go on.
Sometimes, when I perform, I space out — if I ignore the fact that I’m performing, it makes it easier to get over any twinge of stage fright. I knew for this concert, I had to focus. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I wanted to remember every single detail.
Our second set was pure elation. We performed Africa, by Toto, which is always a crowd-pleaser. People were singing along in the audience. Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro shook our hands. I think it might’ve been the best we’ve ever sounded. We were all beaming from ear to ear.
We sang the national anthem to a silent crowd. Fire shot out behind us during the “rockets red glare,” and fireworks exploded above our heads for the “bombs bursting in air.” It was beautiful.
Once we finished, they launched the fireworks show. We stood next to the stage and hugged and soaked in the joy of our accomplishments.
Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, 6:30 a.m., waiting for a rodent prognosticator, with our arms around each other. I sobbed. This was the culmination of so much hard work from all of us and from so many Hilltoppers before us.
We got VIP seats to see Phil’s big prediction. We screamed our voices away to the groundhog-themed parody of Mr. Brightside. We hoped for an early spring, and we got our wish.
It was a truly unforgettable morning. And one I’ll remember every Feb. 2 for the rest of my life.