Lord willing, on Monday, Aug. 21, I’ll be joining a the small group of people who have witnessed two total solar eclipses.
In case you weren’t aware, a sizable swath in Missouri is directly in the path of totality in the first total eclipse in North America since 1979. I’m excited about it, and my wife, several friends and relatives and I plan to head for the Sullivan area to take in the incredible celestial event.
As a quick tutorial, a solar eclipse occurs when the Moon passes between Earth and the Sun, and basically casts a shadow on a portion of our home planet. A total solar eclipse occurs in areas where the Moon completely obscures the Sun and blocks all direct sunlight.
It’s an amazing, albeit relatively short time period, when our neighborhood star is blocked out and day temporarily turns to night. I know it’s amazing, because I experienced totality in 1979.
The nuts and bolts of the situation is pretty easy to describe, but it’s not at all easy to convey the overall atmosphere and general feeling of a total solar eclipse. But allow me to try.
On Monday, Feb. 26, 1979, the shadow of the Moon passed over several northwestern U.S. states, including Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana, as well as North Dakota, parts of several Canadian provinces and Greenland.
I was a college sophomore living in Washington at the time, and arranged to travel with a couple of friends to the small town of Goldendale, on the east side of the Cascade Mountains, just north of the Columbia River near The Dalles, Ore.
When we arrived near town, it was pretty early in the morning, but late enough that the Sun was up – and shining brightly. I remember how shocked we were by the way vehicles were already lining every country road around.
We decided to simply drive along one that went up a hill, and found a spot and parked.
In a matter of moments, the Sun began slowly going away. We had some makeshift viewing apparatus (made from 35-milimeter film negatives and a shoebox top with a hole cut in it), and started checking the progress every so often.
After a while, the Sun was about half gone, and it was as if twilight was setting in. Up until then, the people in the surrounding area had been somewhat vocal, but as the sky got darker and darker, an eerie silence began to set in.
As it became more and more night-like, nearby cows began to moo as if to say, “what’s going on here?” The temperature was a bit cold to begin the event, but as darkness took over, it dropped big-time.
Then, as the Sun became little more than a crescent, stars were shining brightly, and it seemed like nighttime.
Then, peoples’ exuberance blew up and the silence was replaced sound of cheering. It was like being at a rock show with an engaged, appreciative crowd.
Seconds before totality, the famous “diamond” showed up at the circular edge of light that was all the Moon was allowing the Sun to share. We had heard about that moment, and were ready for it.
It was, to use words that don’t do justice to reality, spectacularly awesome. As advertised, it looked like a giant diamond on a massive ring.
Next, the diamond disappeared we were in the totality segment of the show. People yelled and cheered, and it was strange how we quickly got used to the situation.
After a couple of minutes, the diamond appeared again on the other side of the ring of light, and the process worked in reverse. Eventually, the mini-night relented and normal daytime took back over.
The three of us were in a state of joyful astonishment. We knew – and said so to each other – that we had just experienced something special that we would never forget. I can still feel the temperature dropping (it probably dropped about 20 degrees total) and hear the people cheering like it was yesterday.
For round two next month, I already have a half-dozen special viewing glasses. I ordered them from Amazon and received them weeks ago.
We have our eclipse-viewing destination picked out, and the way things have changed since 1979 I expect we’ll be amongst a far larger gathering of natural thrill-seekers than me and my buddies were on that memorable morning 38 years ago in eastern Washington.
But I’m so ready for it. I’ve sang the praises of the experience to a whole lot of folks, but they can’t really imagine what they’re in for – especially when totality hits at about 1 p.m.
Oh, and how odd is it that I could – Lord willing – join the three-total-eclipse club in only about seven years? Yep, parts of southeast Missouri will again be in a path of totality on Monday, April 8, 2024. In fact, Cape Girardeau is smack in the middle of both the 2017 and 2024 swaths.
Just so you know, you might want to make your plans now for that one. Motels in the 2017 path of totality were booked up a year ago (for real).
Doug Davison is a writer, photographer and newsroom assistant for the Houston Herald. His columns are posted online at www.houstonherald.com. Email: ddavison@houstonherald.com.