Warm spirit overcomes the cold

Tim Burgess let out a yelp as he took a plunge into Dorchester Bay with the L Street Brownies. He raised funds for the American Cancer Society. (Photo by Yoon S. Byun/Globe Staff)

Many in the horde of half-naked swimmers called plunging into the 44-degree water painful.

They said walking out into the bone-chilling cold and savage winds was even worse.

About 500 people participated in the annual L Street Brownies tradition of taking a morning dip in Dorchester Bay on New Year's Day.

Chunks of hair froze white, exposed skin turned red, and numb feet were wrapped in towels.

But most faces were beaming.

"I'm never doing that again," said Steve Sheerin, 43, of Maynard, to his childhood friend, Eric Kondo, 43, of Lexington, who laughed from his wheelchair. Kondo had helped persuade Sheerin to dive in - and to carry Kondo along on Sheerin's back.

"I always thought complete morons would do this," Sheerin said with an ear-to-ear grin, "and I still believe only complete morons do this."

But he could not stop smiling.

The 104-year-old tradition for the L Street Brownies, one of the oldest "polar bear" swimming groups in America, is a popular spectacle that attracts people from across the Northeast. And the after effects of neither a snowstorm nor New Year's Eve revelry stopped more people from participating in the longstanding tradition than ever before, said Freddy Ahern, director of the Curley Community Center in South Boston, which hosts the event.

"This was the coldest one in the last five years, but we had more swimmers than we've ever had," Ahern said. "It was the perfect backdrop - snow on the ground and sun out."

Hundreds of spectators stood shaking their heads as swimmers raced toward the water at 11 a.m., with the temperature at 13 degrees and winds gusting up to 29 miles per hour, making it feel more like minus-6 degrees. But the exhilarated swimmers called it the perfect way to wash away the past and welcome the New Year.

"I needed some gusto to plunge into the New Year after all the gloomy news this fall," said Melissa Lockman, 36, of Jamaica Plain. "It's a great tradition that feels very South Boston - some people were passing out vitamin C, while others were passing around flasks."

The dip is an attraction for daredevils of all ages.

South Boston resident Haley Dillon, 14, a veteran of four swims, got her little brother Shane, 11, to join her in the water for the first time.

"I like to take risks," Haley said, as the siblings stood shivering indoors after the swim, numb feet wrapped in towels.

Burt Freedman, a school teacher in Springfield, has been taking the risk for 22 years.

"It's my way of celebrating New Year's," said Freedman, 62. "It's a challenge. After you go through all that pain, it's invigorating."

Both praised the people they call the real thrill-seekers - the L Street Brownies, about two dozen men who swim outside every day. The Brownies believe, Ahern said, that a daily dip boosts the immune system, prevents colds, and lowers blood pressure.

The event was about health for many swimmers, but in a different way. Money was raised for medical charities or causes ranging from cancer research to heart transplants to studying sudden infant death syndrome.

"We were doing it out of sheer insanity, but it gave us a good reason to go in," said a man who was raising money for friends with a disease called sarcoidosis, an inflammation involving cell clumps. The theme of this year's swim was "Celtic Pride" and many wore green to celebrate the fortitude of the Brownies.

An Irish band, composed of members of two bands from local firefighter and engineer unions, raised money for research of scleroderma, a chronic autoimmune disease. The band has played for at least the past five years, marching from L Street to the beach in kilts before jumping in the water. Well, the engineers jump in - they have to.

Even as he called the New Year's Day dip "pure pain," South Boston engineer Kenny Tallent said, "We require 100 percent participation if you want to play."

The firefighters, the perceived tough guys, are more lenient, joking that they would be happy to jump in - if there were a fire or someone needed saving.

Rachana Rathi can be reached at rrathi@globe.com.