In January 1925, a deadly outbreak of diphtheria hit Nome in the far west of Alaska.

The town's only doctor ordered a lockdown while he awaited delivery of an antitoxin serum that would stop the spread of the disease.

The nearest batch was a thousand miles away in Anchorage,

but a raging blizzard ruled out an airlift.

Instead, Alaska's governor, Scott Bone, recruited the territory's strongest dogs

to relay the life-saving medicine by sled.

It took five days to get the serum to Nome, half the previous record.

150 dogs and 20 drivers took part, but radio reports focused on Balto, the lead dog in the epic final leg.

The Huskies' fame soon rivaled Rin Tin's, a Hollywood contract, and a Central Park statue

were his reward.

This month snow machines have been pulling the sleds loaded with vaccines to Alaska's remotest communities.

Rural and indigenous Alaskans access to shots are among the highest in America.

Elsewhere, distribution has been more patchy.

A week in, what difference has the new presidency made?

This is checks and balance.

I'm John Prido, the economist's US editor.

Each week we take one big theme shaping American politics and

explore it in depth. Today can Joe Biden get jabs out fast enough? Anthony Fauchy, the country's top infectious disease doctor, says 85% of Americans need the

jab for things to return to normal.

What version of normal depends on how quickly the Biden administration can get the vaccine to those who need it most.

It's an urgent and complex challenge that involves grappling with the fraud politics of public goods in America.

In this episode we'll hear from the people administering the vaccines, find out why vaccine skepticism

...