I was working as a young reporter on the Hartford Courant that year when World War II was in the wings. But we were preoccupied with the developing story about this Glastonbury creature that howled at night, slipped in and out of view and caused dogs, cats and small farm animals to disappear. As the sightings grew in number, so did the variety of descriptions.
First it was a huge cat. Then some people reported what looked like a dog in back and a cat in front. Others saw it vice-versa. One man called to say he had seen a big animal in the pitch dark with eyes that glowed like embers.It was clear to us that this weird, unknown animal needed a name. One editor coined the word, Glawackus. "Gla" for Glastonbury; "wack" for wacky; and "us" as a proper Latin ending. It caught on like magic.
Lowell Thomas, a radio network commentator, who was popular nationwide, reported the Glawackus had been named by a "Connecticut scientist."
A safari was organized with two Ozark-trained hounds. The search came back empty-handed. The event, however, was memorialized in verse:
"Say did the fearless hunters, Pick up the beastly spoor, While trekking through the jungle, With steps alert and sure?"