On August 21, 2017, the moon cast a rare shadow over the sun, darkening parts of the Lower 48. It was a total eclipse of the sun and the first total eclipse visible from the U.S. in 38 years.
While I was aware of the 2017 eclipse, I chose not to make an effort to witness it. However, after hearing stories from friends who traveled to the Lower 48 to experience this infrequent phenomenon, I regretted my decision. As a result, I vowed to see the next total solar eclipse visible from the U.S. Happily, I would only have to wait seven years.
I diligently made a note of the eclipse date, April 8, 2024, on my hard-copy calendar. Unfortunately, when I later switched to a digital calendar, I failed to add the event reminder. So it was that I spent the first part of 2024 oblivious to the fact the eclipse would take place on April 8. Ironically, many months before, I had purchased tickets for a two-week trip to Nebraska in March to volunteer at the Iain Nicholson Audubon Center at Rowe Sanctuary. My return date was April 1, just one week prior to the eclipse.
In what was a stroke of luck, or perhaps it was meant to be, on March 1, I received an email from a friend, who mentioned in passing that she would be in the Lower 48 in April to see the solar eclipse. It was at that moment, I realized I had totally blown it; I had forgotten about the eclipse.
My initial reactions included disappointment, frustration, and resignation. At that point, my life felt too complicated to attempt to correct my mistake. Nonetheless, after reading the email, as the minutes ticked by, I couldn’t get the idea of seeing the eclipse out of my head.
Aware that changing my return ticket from Nebraska wasn’t feasible, an hour later I went online to determine if flying back to the Lower 48 to see the eclipse was a possibility. I first checked flights to Texas, which was touted as the area with the best chance for clear skies for viewing the event. Much to my dismay, not only were airfares to Dallas and Houston totally outrageous, so were the flight times. The obvious price gouging irritated me enough that I looked beyond Texas at other options.
With the path of totality going through the northern part of Arkansas and southern part of Missouri, I next checked flights to Kansas City. Because Kansas City was far enough out of the totality path, airfares were what I would normally expect from Alaska.
My next step was to call my Kansas-based niece, Ingrid, with an out-of-the-blue proposal. My idea included: (1) me flying to Kansas City on April 6 and staying all night with her and Jeremy, her spouse; (2) she and I driving to northwest Arkansas the next day (Jeremy was scheduled to be working); (3) she and I driving into the path of totality on April 8 to see the eclipse and then driving back to Kansas City that night; and (4) me flying home early the morning of April 9. My proposal was met with silence for about ten seconds. Ingrid then responded with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”
With Ingrid agreeing to the plan, I immediately purchased my ticket and then researched lodging for the night of April 7. Finding a place to stay was easier said than done since almost everything inside the path of totality was either already reserved or shockingly expensive. I could not bring myself to book, for example, one night at a Motel 6 for $1,000. Looking outside the totality path, I found a pleasant, reasonably-priced hotel in Fayetteville, Arkansas.
Within a few hours after my initial phone call, our group expanded to include Jeremy and Ingrid’s sister, Alysse. They both decided to also take time off work to join us to experience this unique event. The dye was cast; I was excited to have successfully pulled my mistake out of the fire.
So just five days after returning from volunteering at Rowe Sanctuary, I flew back to the Midwest, arriving in Kansas City at midnight. After a few short hours at Ingrid and Jeremy’s, we were on our way to pick up Alysse before heading to Fayetteville.
At our hotel that evening, Jeremy and I began checking an online eclipse site to see what location near Fayetteville, but inside the path of totality, was predicted to have the best eclipse viewing. We were dismayed when the forecast, which changed hourly, called for increasing clouds the following day. Only time would tell if our efforts to see the eclipse would be rewarded.
The following morning, after researching potential viewing locations one final time, we decided to drive east toward Russellville, Arkansas, on Interstate 40. There, we joined hundreds of other eclipse chasers, who were also driving toward the path of totality. The eclipse would begin at 12:30 p.m.
Around 10:30 a.m., having driven well into the totality path, we exited the Interstate at the Arkansas Big Piney Tourist Information Center for a potty stop, where we snagged one of the last parking spots available. After discovering there were already lots of folks on the center grounds preparing to watch the eclipse, we decided to view the eclipse from there as well.
After finding a quiet area away from the majority of people, we could now relax and wait for the minutes to tick by. With the temperature in the mid-80s, the day was quite warm. Happily, the sky was mostly clear and blue, and pine trees offered some shade.
Ingrid, Alysse, and I were decked out in eclipse t-shirts to commemorate the event. All four of us had eclipse glasses to protect our eyes. Jeremy had a new camera lens and special filter to photograph the eclipse. From the first moment the moon began obscuring the sun until the sun was no longer blocked, two hours and forty minutes would pass.
The eclipse began with the moon’s shadow first covering a small portion of the bottom right of the sun. As the eclipse continued, the sun became a series of perfect crescents as the moon’s shadow continued toward the top left of the sun. As seen through our eclipse glasses, the sun was a distinct orange; however, everything else was obscured.
As the sun became a smaller and smaller crescent, the air temperature began to drop. I raised my arms to feel the newly distinct coolness of the breeze. It also began to get darker. Once the moon totally blocked the sun, we took off our protective glasses. We now had four minutes and twelve seconds to experience, for the first time, a total eclipse of the sun.
The word “Wow!” spontaneously emerged from my mouth. There was a visible glow around the sun beyond the moon’s shadow. Two very bright stars, which turned out to be the planets Jupiter and Venus, appeared on either side of the sun. Elsewhere, everything was noticeably darker. The information center’s outside lights switched on. The air was cool enough that putting on a jacket would have been nice.
I had chosen to watch the eclipse while lying on the ground. However, shortly after entering totality, I was compelled to get up and give Ingrid, Alysse, and Jeremy each a hug to celebrate this shared unique and amazing event.
I then continued looking around, soaking up the experience. Goose bumps formed on my arms when the sky above the horizon to my right glowed as if the sun was just rising. The color of our surroundings seemed a bit off. The grass and tree leaves had an eerie bluish-gray tint. It was a bit disconcerting.
All too soon, a tiny sliver of light emerged from the sun as the moon continued on its journey. The light was both bright and intense.
As I laid back down on the ground, eclipse glasses on once more, the day seemed to become lighter much faster than had been the case when the day darkened. Within minutes, the information center’s lights went off; both planets and the morning-like light disappeared. We had emerged from the darkness. What we experienced left us all a little stunned and a bit lost for words.
While most people at the information center left after totality, the four of us lingered until the entire eclipse was nearly over. We then joined the hordes of people heading back to Kansas City and elsewhere; it was quite the traffic jam. Nevertheless, it was definitely worth the time, effort, and expense to experience this rare and amazing event.
The date of the next total solar eclipse visible from the U.S.–March 30, 2033–is already in my digital calendar. This time the path of totality will cross parts of northwestern Alaska. With some advance planning and a little luck, I will have the opportunity to experience a total eclipse of the sun once again.