The Great Disappointment

On March 10, 1970, I was excited to have my first experience with a solar eclipse. Mexico was going to have all the fun, of course, but New Orleans was expecting 89% obscuration of the sun. My dad taught me how to make a pinhole projector and everything. I almost thought I was going to miss out on the eclipse when I was hospitalized with an ulcer my mother insisted my third-grade teacher gave me. (No, Mom, you gave me that ulcer.) I was discharged from the hospital in time and was looking forward to Monday’s eclipse.

But it rained.

More recently, I had the chance to see a total solar eclipse. On August 21, 2017, a few friends and I drove down to St. Joseph, Missouri, to see what was being billed as the Great American Eclipse. We stayed in a seedy hotel, drove to a nearby state park, and prepared for totality.

But it rained.

Yesterday, I had my chance again, though due to a lack of planning, I would have to settle for the 78% obscuration here in Minneapolis. “Twice in a Lifetime” it was being billed by many, as the path crossed 2017’s eclipse in southern Illinois. I wanted to go to Cleveland, and Jim wanted to go to Niagara Falls. Still, I still have my eclipse glasses left from 2017, so I’d be able to see most of the sun covered here.

But it fucking rained.

This is probably going to be the last time I’ll ever have the chance to see a total eclipse of the sun. Yeah, sure, I could go watch the million YouTube videos out there that people took, but I want to see a total eclipse with my own eyes. The closest I got was a brief sliver of the sun when the clouds parted right after totality in 2017. 

“God,” my friend David caught me on video saying, “is a dick.”

By the time we got back to the hotel, it was clear and sunny, and I was able to watch the end of the eclipse through eclipse glasses. But like the Holy Grail, totality has always eluded me.

The only time I got a really good look at an eclipse was in February 1979, when I watched a 53% partial eclipse through a welder’s mask and a pair of sunglasses. Before that, in June 1972, I made the mistake of glancing at a partial eclipse with naked eyes for only a split second. There is still a barely noticeable spot in my field of vision to this day.

I figure I’ve got two more chances, both of which would require international travel: Palma de Mallorca in 2026 or Sydney in 2028. I’ve been to Palma… sort of. By that point in our Mediterranean cruise, I was too sick to get off the boat. I’ve never been south of the Equator, so Sydney is intriguing as well.

I could even see a total eclipse right here in Minneapolis… if I live to be 138.

And with my luck, it’ll probably rain that day.