The total solar eclipse of 2017

1
When I was young, astronomy was one of my first loves. My brother and I were very into it in the late 60s and early 70s. I still have fond memories of nights spent out in the yard, looking through the telescope at the Moon, planets, nebulae, and far-off galaxies while shooing away the hungry bugs of an Illinois night. As time wore on, I continued to be interested in astronomy, watching meteor showers, gazing in wonder at the pictures coming back from the Pioneers and Voyagers, and seeing Halley’s Comet. But there was one must-see event that remained elusive, one of the crown jewels of the astronomy hobby: watching a total eclipse of the sun. When I was in the late grade school/early high school age range, somewhere/ somehow in those pre-Internet days, I discovered that in August 2017, there would be a total solar eclipse visible from Illinois. I thought, I would finally get to see one then if I didn’t manage to sooner. Call it a long-term goal!

So the years passed, but tucked away in the back of my mind was the thought of that eclipse. It seemed a little nearer and more achievable after the 21st century dawned (sort of like retirement in that regard), and as we moved into the 20-teens, I began to think more about it. At some point, I looked it up online and saw the actual path. I was a bit crest-fallen when I realized it would not be total where I live. I wondered how I could have misremembered something that lurked so huge in my astro-aspirations. At length, I realized that I’d been thinking that I’d be able to see an eclipse from home…but I now lived 150 miles north of where I used to. So that little discrepancy was resolved. In any event, once I knew I’d be driving somewhere, I started cogitating where I’d want to go. For several years, I planned on going to Columbia, Missouri, home of my grad school Alma Mater, Mizzou, to see it. The thought of watching an eclipse over Mizzou’s beloved Columns stirred me. I’d make a weekend of it, and enjoy a visit to Columbia.

Then I factored in the weather. It was possible that the day of the eclipse would be cloudy, and I’d find myself needing to drive hundreds of miles that morning to find clear skies. Suddenly the idea of spending a few hundred bucks on a hotel, possibly only to have to embark on another major drive at the last minute, was not appealing. At length I decided that wherever I went, I’d embark from home that morning.

About two months before the eclipse, my cousin here asked if I was interested in going somewhere to see it. He was tentatively planning on a dash down to southern Illinois. That sounded like as good a plan as any, and that was ultimately what I did. A little after 8:00 a.m. on 21 August, a carload of cousins rolled out and headed southward.

Under normal circumstances our destination, a rest area on I-57 about five miles east of Anna, should take about three hours. It ended up taking us about four. We encountered heavy traffic even getting away from home, a harbinger for the day. Once finally on the interstate, it was like day-before-Thanksgiving traffic, heavy but manageable. We arrived at our destination a little after noon, perfect timing for a picnic lunch. Our trip back after the eclipse was…a slog through the Twilight Zone. It took about seven hours to make that three-hour trip. It seemed like we would never get home. But ultimately we did, of course.

But the eclipse…oh, the eclipse! It was truly something. I’d previously seen any number of partial solar eclipses and even two annular solar eclipses, where the moon is a bit too far away to cover the sun completely. Those of course were no preparation for the real deal, but even knowing that going in did not prepare me for what it was like.

The sun was probably at least three-quarters covered before ambient light began to be noticeably affected. And as it shrank to an ever-slimmer crescent, the light gradually diminished. The oddest thing was shortly before totality, when the dimming accelerated. It seemed to occur sometimes in jerks, instead of a smooth transition. I can only attribute this to the shadow band phenomenon that is said to occur just before totality. And even the mere fact that it was getting darker was freaky. Part of this was simply realizing that after all these years, it was happening and I was about to see a total eclipse. But part of it was, in spite of knowing exactly what was happing, a feeling of “Oh my God the sun is going out!”

Finally, the sun shrank down to the tiniest sliver and we dropped our glasses and saw the Diamond Ring effect, where one last bit of sun gleams above the limb of the moon. Then night fell and the corona appeared.
All around, people were reacting with gasps and cries to the sight in the sky. I’d warned my cousins beforehand that given how long I’d yearned to see this eclipse, I might become emotional at totality. I was afraid I might burst into tears. But instead, I pumped a fist at the sky and bellowed “Yeah!”

There were a few surprising aspects. I’d long ago read that during totality, the sun is about as bright as a full moon. So I expected the sky to be as dark as a night with a full moon. However, ambient light conditions were more like late twilight, with sunset in all directions. When you’re in totality, even at the center of the path as we were, daylight and daylight landscapes are no more than thirty-five miles away. And in our case, towering cumulus clouds in the distance acted like huge lava lamps. So, the sky was brighter than I expected. However, I still saw stars and Venus. I wasn’t able to pick out Mercury, Jupiter, and Mars, all of which were also supposed to be visible. I suspect this was because our view of the sky was a little limited, the rest stop being in a clearing with the Shawnee National Forest rising on all sides. Whatever the case may have been, I wasn’t going to waste precious totality looking for planets I’d already seen. The other aspect that surprised me (though it shouldn’t have) was the size of the phenomenon. Even though I know full well the apparent size of sun and moon in the sky, having seen so many pictures of solar eclipses I suppose I was expecting the sun, or more accurately its corona, to be a bit bigger. No matter—I saw it and that’s what counted. It was hugged in fairly tightly to the sun, though a number of wispy arms projected out some distance.

At last, after an all-too-brief 2:37, the Diamond Ring reappeared, the sky brightened, and it was over. I had seen something I’d been waiting about forty years to see. I can well appreciate how people in olden times, with no understanding of the mechanism, were freaked out. Even for me, amateur astronomer and professional geologist, it was a surreal, unearthly, almost supernatural event.

And now, having waited all this time, I may be seeing one again in just seven years when another passes through the area. Normally, Indianapolis is only two hours away. But on 8 April 2024...well, we shall see!
"Olorin I was in the West that is forgotten...."

Re: The total solar eclipse of 2017

3
It felt so otherworldly! It's so hard to put into words how the experience was. I remember seeing my first eclipse. It was a partial when I was younger, around middle school or high school age I think. I looked through my dad's welding helmet to see it. So happy that the weather cooperated and I was able to photograph it so I can look back on it at any time.
Post Reply

Return to “Other Discussions”

cron