I first heard about the eclipse from my 11-year-old niece while we were visiting my brother’s family in May of this year. She told me a full solar eclipse would occur in August, it could be seen from her town, and her school was giving all the kids special glasses to view it. That sounded pretty cool to me.
As the date, August 21, approached, more and more information appeared about this eclipse and before I knew it, I had eclipse fever. And since my brother lives in the zone of totality, I had a destination in mind to view the event. Once he confirmed we were welcome, I began to plan in earnest. I found viewing glasses online at Amazon and ordered a dozen just to be sure I had a sufficient supply for family and friends.
But as the event drew closer, warnings began to appear. I’m pretty much a scaredy cat, never much of a risk taker, so the warnings got me worried. “Don’t look at the sun without proper eye protection or you’ll go blind.” Amazon issued a recall on unsafe glasses–not the ones I had purchased but that got me more worried. I read compulsively all the safety tips and forwarded everything I read to my adult children cautioning them to be careful and not to go blind. In response to my Facebook post with cautionary information from an optometrist, a friend of mine wrote, “I remember the eclipse of my childhood (July 20, 1963, central Illinois). My grandmother kept me safely in the house while yelling “you’re going to go blind! You’re going to go blind!” at my grandfather who was in the yard with black glass looking at the eclipse.” Honestly, I have plenty in common with her grandmother.
I took my eclipse glasses to my eye doctor’s office seeking reassurance about their safety. My glasses contained the proper ISO numbers and were issued by American Paper Optics, one of the approved companies but I wanted an expert to calm my fears. They were fairly noncommittal at the clinic, probably not wanting to be liable for my safety. One of the optometrists told me not to look continuously at the sun even with the glasses so at least I felt better armed with more information. I passed this information to my adult children as well. One of them told me the warnings were similar to dentists saying if you don’t floss, your teeth will fall out. The other told me he would close one eye so his blindness would be limited to the other eye. See what I put up with?
The news informing us all the hotels in the zone of totality would be full and the traffic was expected to be horrible, added another element of worry. We left for my brother’s in the St. Louis area on the 20th and the traffic on the Avenue of the Saints looked like this. My first concern was thus alleviated.
My friend, Lori, who accompanied us worried about the weather. My worry plate was already full so that one didn’t affect me but the next morning luckily dawned clear but HOT. In fact by 11:48, when the partial eclipse began, it was over 90 degrees.
My sister-in-law, Sarah, asked where we wanted to view the eclipse and offered their yard, the golf course where they live, or the school the kids attend. My brother couldn’t join us since he was headed to Milwaukee. We decided we’d volunteer to help at the school and we all later agreed it was a good decision. We enjoyed the excitement of the kids and appreciated the information shared by the teachers.
What did we see? My photos certainly don’t capture well what we viewed which was truly amazing. The first sliver disappeared from the upper right corner of the sun at 11:48. Through our glasses, the sun appeared orange against a black sky. With the glasses held up to cover the lens on my phone, this is what I got, but no sliver is missing.
One of the third-grade teachers showed us how to see the eclipse shadow on white paper by making a waffle with our fingers.
I’d read shadows were darker and more distinct during the eclipse and that seemed true to me. Look at the shadows of the trees below.
I can’t tell you whether the cicadas went silent at totality because the kids didn’t. Their noisy excitement grew as totality approached and continued while we viewed it. It didn’t get as dark as I expected but the street lights did come on. We saw Venus, a rainbow, and the diamond ring. The experience of seeing the corona is unforgettable.
As totality ended, the kids went quiet and I again noticed the sound of the cicadas.
Several times in the night I woke up and was grateful my vision was still intact. The next morning I said to my 9-year-old nephew, “How’s your sight this morning, Buddy?” “Fine”, he responded, “but my hearing’s kind of messed up.”
Laura, it is evident that you wrote this while still immersed in eclipse euphoria. Your prose sings with passion and humor and pulls us into your experience. Well done.