1970 - 1986: PARTIAL SOLAR ECLIPSES
As a boy growing up in Peoria, Illinois, I could have theoretically been
witness to five solar eclipses before my thirteenth birthday -- in 1960,
1963, 1967, 1969 and 1970. Instead, I saw only one -- the fifth of these
five -- and the only reason I was witness to that event was because of
a generous neighbor. The date was Saturday, March 7, 1970. Sometime
around the noon hour, I noticed that our neighbor was in his front yard
with a large box over his head -- a makeshift contraption that I somehow
recognized as an eclipse viewer. Curious, I walked over to him, exchanged
greetings, and was offered a look. A homemade eclipse viewer of this type
is very safe, but yields a tiny image of the eclipsed sun from its pinhole
"lens." I held the box over my head, with pinhole facing the sun. "Yeah,
I see it," I commented with a bit of newfound enthusiasm. I lingered for
a few extra looks and then returned the box to my neighbor. My first solar
eclipse experience had come and gone, and I was scarcely changed by the
experience.
My interest in observational
astronomy lay dormant for another two years. Upon graduating from eighth
grade, my parents bought me a small refracting telescope. Despite its limitations,
it changed my life, and catapulted me headlong into a lifetime love affair
with all things astronomical.
The next solar eclipse visible
from Peoria was on July 10, 1972, just a few weeks after acquiring
my telescope. Unfortunately, mid-afternoon clouds frustrated my attempts
to view it. The following year, in the fall of 1973, I acquired a homemade
4 1/4" reflecting telescope from my observing friend, Aaron. The following
spring, I purchased a solar filter for my new telescope, which enabled
me to observe sunspots and the rare eclipse. However, my "eclipse disappointment"
continued when winter clouds thwarted the next visible solar eclipse on
Christmas Eve Day of 1973. I would have to wait nearly a year before successfully
observing my second solar eclipse.
On Friday, December 13,
1974, I convinced my parents that observing a partial solar eclipse
would contribute more to my education than a routine day of high school
classes. It turned out that I was correct; the pleasant memories of that
day still remain. My mentor in the Peoria Astronomical Society, Rollin
Van Zandt, and my friend Aaron and I met at Northmoor Observatory that
morning. Armed with my reflector, Aaron's Questar, and the Northmoor 9-inch
refractor, we hoped for the best. The eclipse was a success, but
just barely. Fast moving clouds were present all morning. Fortunately,
the clouds were thin enough at times to safely glimpse the eclipse with
the unprotected eye -- a rare event indeed. I took a few pictures using
my father's Kodak Instamatic camera, two of which are reproduced here.
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photo magnifies the eclipsed sun. |
photo magnifies the eclipsed sun. |
Northmoor Observatory). |
Nearly three years would
pass before the next partial solar eclipse, which took place on Wednesday,
October
12, 1977. Occurring in the late afternoon, I drove home from college
with a couple of friends to observe it from my parent's backyard. Not only
did we observe it visually, but I also photographed it through my telescope.
Later, from a technique I'd read about, I extrapolated the first and last
contact times by plotting photograph measurements vs. time on graph paper.
From this analysis, I was able to precisely determine that first contact
occurred at 3:15 p.m., greatest eclipse was at 4:00 and last contact took
place at 4:45 p.m.
On Monday, February 26,
1979, the northwestern corner of the United States enjoyed a total
solar eclipse. From Peoria, this eclipse provided me with the greatest
amount of partial eclipse I had ever seen -- over 82% of the sun's diameter.
As with the much less spectacular 1977 eclipse, I returned home from college
to photograph the partial phases through my telescope. This time, the eclipse
occurred in the morning, with first contact at 9:33 a.m., greatest eclipse
at 10:48 and last contact at 12:07 p.m.
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By Wednesday, May 30,
1984, I had graduated from college and had worked at Lakeview Museum
in Peoria for a little over three years. Even though my official
duties were not related to the planetarium, on that day I was asked to
bring my telescope for public eclipse viewing. In the southern U.S., Atlanta
and other locales would experience a near-total annular eclipse, with the
moon just a bit too small to cover the sun's dazzling disk. In Peoria,
good weather (at last!) allowed the noon-hour crowd to see the moon take
a sizable bite out of the sun. First contact was at 10:05 a.m., greatest
eclipse at 11:26 and last contact at 12:53 p.m.
By the time that the next
partial solar eclipse occurred, on Friday, October 3, 1986, I was
living in the suburban Chicago and working for the Cernan Earth and Space
Center at Triton College. Intermittent clouds allowed parts of the eclipse
to be observed, but heavy rains in the days preceding the eclipse had swollen
nearby rivers and streams and closed roads near the college, making it
difficult for people to attend our public viewing session.
By the late 1980's, I had
successfully observed six partial solar eclipses. More than fifteen years
of observing had made me yearn to see a total eclipse of the sun. I knew
from numerous written and verbal accounts that a partial eclipse pales
in comparison to the awesome beauty of a total solar eclipse. To see one,
however, I would have to travel. I knew that no total solar eclipse would
pass through the United States until 2017, and I didn't want to wait that
long! In astronomical magazines, I read that the "eclipse of the century"
was coming up. I wasted no time in making reservations to be part of a
group of twelve from the Chicago Astronomical Society who would fly to
the city of La Paz in the southern portion of Baja, Mexico to bask in the
lunar shadow.
visitors since January 7, 2002
Last updated January 12, 2002