Once upon a time, I said I would never go out of my way for an eclipse again. I had been so exited leading up to the 2017 eclipse. It was the first time in my life that a total solar eclipse would happen in Georgia and one of the spots for totality was in Sky Valley where my folks have a place. I had fond memories from growing up of partial solar eclipses at school, with our little shoe box to “watch the moon cover the sun”. There were also great times watching lunar eclipses, but a solar eclipse was much more novel, and a total solar eclipse near you was extremely rare.
So, we planned for over a year for the 2017 eclipse. My folks hosted a party, and I took the kids out of school. We packed family and friends onto the property. We had tents, telescopes, and people all over the open field there in Sky Valley. It was a beautiful day as we watched the moon start to cover the sun. Everyone was filled with excitement even to the point of talking about the 2024 eclipse that would be just a few states away. As the sky was getting to a weird dusk-like color, literally minutes before totality, a bank of clouds moved in and covered the eclipse. We prayed, begged, and wished with all our might for that cloud to quickly move. We got some more darkening and some sounds of nightfall (like crickets and such). And then it started getting light again. The field was filled with sighs, tears, bewilderment, and frustration.
Ironically, a friend texted me from the Sky Valley overlook (just a few miles away) with her picture of perfect totality and exclaimed “Wasn’t that amazing?!” And then our clouds rolled away–their task of destroying our joy was complete. I know this highlights my privilege, but I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that level of disappointment. After our dreams that day were crushed, it was hard to be excited about any future eclipse.
However, after we rolled into 2023, the idea started drawing me back in. I was back and forth about it for a long time. Toward the end of 2023, Lizzy’s boyfriend (now fiancée), Jacob, offered to let me crash at his apartment in Louisville, and the desire to attempt the total eclipse again took full hold. As we got closer to the eclipse date, I started planning and realized that Louisville was not in the path of totality. Jacob was going to have classes on the day of the eclipse, so there was no reason to drive to Louisville. I started looking for the right eclipse spot and realized there were lots of great choices just a few hours from my brother in Nashville. Unfortunately, as we got closer to the eclipse, the weather forecast was looking worse every day. I decided we’d just have to find a location on the fly, based on the weather that day.
Come the weekend before the eclipse, I gave up on the chase. I had been sick for weeks with unexplainable hives that were driving me crazy (and the significant amount of allergy meds made me exhausted). The weather forecast looked bad for anywhere we could drive to. I “knew” it was going to be a disappointing repeat of my last total eclipse experience. Thom took it all in stride and said he would go at the drop of a hat if I changed my mind. All I could see was that we were going to miss work, spend a bunch of money on gas, sit in terrible traffic…and it would all be for nothing.
I guess a tiny part of me still had a glimmer of hope, because early Sunday afternoon, I pulled up the National Weather Service site and saw there was now a forecasted hole in the cloud cover right over Paducah KY, which was in the path of totality.
So, we suddenly jumped into action. We packed, took showers, and had an early dinner with the boys before driving to Nashville. We had a beautiful sunset drive over Monteagle and stopped at my brother’s for the night.
During our Sunday drive, I used my phone and “old-fashioned” maps to hone in on the best potential spots to see the eclipse–looking at all the towns falling in the predicted break in cloud cover, checking mileage, and noting how long totality would last. Early Monday morning, we got up and went into the unknown. We set our sights on Paducah KY, as it was the first town that would be in totality. Paducah was only going to have 1 minute 34 seconds of totality, so we hoped to push further into the zone if time (traffic) allowed. We had two potential “best case scenario” targets: Cape Girardeau MO (4 minutes 6 seconds of totality) or Carbondale IL (4 minutes 8 seconds of totality). They were both about the same drive from Nashville, but were off different expressways once we got past Paducah.
After we got through Nashville’s rush hour, we stopped at Dunkin’ for breakfast (since we don’t eat or drink in the Mustang). That stop (and our later lunch and gas stops) were so different from a normal day. Instead of people just standing in line and keeping to themselves, everyone was talking to each other, sharing excitement about the event, and asking where everyone was from and where they were going for the eclipse. It was electric and alive in such a refreshing way.
Back on the road, we had more traffic than expected. I figured most people would have lodging reservations and would already be in place just hours before the eclipse. However, I think the weather forecast had caused many people to make last minute adjustments. Looking at traffic, Cape Girardeau looked more problematic due to more bridges (which seemed to bring about the worst traffic). Thus, we set our sights on Carbondale and settled into a music podcast interrupted occasionally by GPS alerts stating that there was an “unusual” amount of traffic.
When we finally made it to Paducah, we howled with delight as we knew we were at least in the totality zone. Now the goal was just a matter of getting a longer totality (in an area without cloud cover). We enjoyed several cool bridges in that little stretch of Kentucky.
We crossed over the Ohio River into Illinois and got super excited as every mile was pushing us deeper into the totality zone.
The sky was completely clear above us; I finally started to believe it was going to work out this time. However, we did see clouds in the distance. I got busy on the National Weather Service site and, for a moment, embodied my childhood dream of being a storm chaser. Of course, today I was chasing the anti-storm (aka clear sky). The weather in Carbondale was starting to look iffy and traffic was making that destination improbable anyway. So, I found a new potential spot in Marion IL. They were set for 4 minutes 6 seconds of totality, located right off the interstate, and had lots of shopping center parking lots (for ease of pulling in and setting up without trees). As we pressed forward, we started seeing crowds sprawled out with blankets or chairs at every gas station or restaurant near the interstate. Even the travelers were getting in place, and all eyes were on the first phase of the eclipse. We finally pulled into Marion and chose a field next to a gas station right off the interstate with plenty of room for us and the telescope.
We alternated between watching the partial eclipse through our glasses and fiddling with the telescope. In turned out to be quite the challenge to bring the sun into focus. It seemed so obvious–the sun is huge–but using the solar lens or eclipse glasses meant that you either had complete darkness or the full sun and no in-between. We got it lined up a few times, and that was cool, but it would quickly drop out of view. So we stopped fighting that fight and just enjoyed the eclipse with our glasses. As the moon blocked out more and more of the sun, we got to know the other people around us: a family with young kids that had taken the day off work and school, a retired couple on the way back north after their winter in Florida, a father and high school son enamored with the science of the eclipse, a group of college kids making different memories than the classroom could offer that day, and a group of construction workers on break. We all were bubbling with excitement and anticipation.
Suddenly, the world around us started to change as the moon moved across the last sliver of sun. The light became muted like a mixture between where a cloud covers the sun and when the sun is setting. Birds went from singing to cooing. Crickets started chirping. The street lights came on. Then it became twilight. The traffic all stopped on the interstate. The air got noticeably cooler. The birds went silent. The symphony of crickets crescendoed. And, quite unexpectedly, thousands of bats flew by in three different swarms. We only had a moment to marvel at that strange occurrence because in that moment, the moon completely covered the sun and day turned to night.
I can’t possibly do justice in describing the next four minutes of my life. I’m not sure even a wise old philosopher with a rich vocabulary could truly describe the experience. I feel like this is one of those things that you simply have to experience in order to understand. But I’ll do my best…
I took my glasses off and my jaw literally dropped. There was a twinkling diamond-like light emanating from one edge for a moment and then beautiful light bands from the sun’s corona streaked out around the moon’s perimeter in shimmery movements as if they were dancing. Then it was like God pulled back the veil and opened up the night skies. It was dark enough for long enough that suddenly lots of stars became visible and I could even see a planet near the horizon. Somehow, I wasn’t prepared for the starry night sky to show up and it overwhelmed my soul. Tears streamed down my face at the magnificence of it all. I turned my face toward Thom to tell him that was Venus in the low sky and no words would come out. I laughed and tears of delight streamed down my face as I simply pointed at the sky. The world around us was a dichotomy of eerie silence, non-sensical exclamations from the adults, and exhilarated laughter & cheers from the kids. Thom looked back at me with the same teary eyes and inability to speak. We were totally Consumed by this moment that felt frozen in time.
The sparkly little diamond light started peeking out the opposite side from earlier and, just like that, totality was over. We rejoiced with all our new friends and bubbled over talking about what we saw and how it made us feel. I had taken a few random pictures in hopes something would capture even a tiny bit of what we saw, and it turned out I was the only one managing to capture it. Everyone wanted a copy and it was kind of cool to be able to share with our newfound temporary family. There was none of the expected loss of it being over. There was just amazement over how we had just been changed forever.
Once the eclipse was completely done, we said our goodbyes and headed south. We settled in with the traffic and I had the great idea to stop in Metropolis on the way by. It was a super cute little touristy town with an eclipse party going on. We got a picture with the giant Superman statue (who even had his own super-sized eclipse glasses) and shopped in the Superman museum store. There was live music and people hanging out all over the town…happily oblivious to the nearby traffic we were soon to encounter.
Legs stretched and tourist attraction checked off the list, it was time to get back on the road (hoping traffic had thinned out a little). Turns out, we fell into the worst traffic I’ve ever encountered. And I know quite a bit about terrible traffic: I live in the Atlanta area, I drove home from the middle of totality in 2017, I’ve driven through Panama City in summer, and I’ve driven through Pigeon Forge in the height of fall. This topped all of them. Pulling out my maps, I realized the predicament I had placed us in by going through Metropolis. Heading south out of town had multiple major roads merging together and eventually becoming just one little lane to enter the expressway on one of the few bridges crossing the Ohio River. I had thrown us into a terrible traffic funnel that took over three hours to go less than two miles. I knew there was a reason that I didn’t like DC Comics…
After our escape from Illinois, the road was full but we moved along pretty well all the way back to Nashville (and then home). All in all, we met people from 9 states and saw cars from 29 states (plus Ontario). We drove 800+ miles with over 22 hours of actual drive time between Sunday evening to Tuesday afternoon. I know that “on paper” it makes no sense whatsoever, yet those are exactly the kind of things one should do (at least every once in awhile). What’s the point of living if you aren’t going to get out and experience the absolutely amazing wonders of this world?
Standing Strength 