I admit it; that was COOL!

      The next total solar eclipse visible in the United States will occur on March 30, 2033, but there aren't good motels on the northwest coast of Alaska or in northeast Siberia, and you know, March, so scratch that.  Next will be August 23, 2044.  I will be 90 years old (or not) when that one happens, but it will only pass through upper Montana and North Dakota, and that's too far to let a 90-year-old drive, even in August.

     So it had to be this one.  Those of you who know Paula will not be surprised that about a year ago she got the date of this year's eclipse, looked on the Official Eclipse Map and reserved a room in a Quality Inn in Lima, Ohio.  And by the way, don't try to fool anyone that you're from there unless you pronounce it "LYE-muh."  Apparently, it was named after the one in Peru (pronounced "Per-OOO"), like the capital city, which is pronounced "LEE-muh" and you won't fool them either unless your Spanish is better than mine.  It looks like both places had malaria in the 1800's, but the one pronounced "LEE-muh" had quinine, which is used to treat it, so they named the one in Ohio "LYE-muh."  Got it?

       

                                 LYE-muh                                           LEE-muh

     On the way to LYE-muh, Ohio (Peru is too far to drive), we stopped off to see a property recently purchased by our daughter and her husband who are presently in Kazakhstan, which you can pronounce however you want.  It is located in Rio Grande, Ohio.  The locals at the Taco Bell there will know that you are from out of town unless you pronounce it "RYE-oh Grand."  The land is lovely, but as far as you can tell from the picture, it could have been in Worchester, Mass. (pronounced "WOO-ster") or in Boerne, Texas (pronounced "BURN-ee").  

     Finally in Lima (whatever), we hung out for a couple of days, reading and watching the General Conference of the Church.  We knew that trips = calories, so trying to get some exercise, we discovered a great place to walk - the local cemetery!

     Lima, at this point pronounced however you'd like, peaked at about 53,000 inhabitants in the 1970 census, but by 2020 had dropped to 35,000 and change.  The graveyard spoke of more prosperous times with more people hanging around to fill it, and indeed the city mirrored much of the "Rust Belt" region.  Oil was discovered nearby in the late 1800's, manufacturing boomed for many years, but factories closed gradually after the 70's, and although M1 Abram battle tanks are still produced there, industry has largely passed it by.

     But not Waffle House!  One of the 1,900 outlets of that no-advertising purveyor of mainly Southern breakfast food (and what could be better?!) welcomed us in for our first meal ever,

thus erasing any temporary advantage gained by the morning's walk in the cemetery....

     OK, OK, but what about the eclipse?  I am pretty sure that the Quality Inn in Lima has not recently been sold out very often, but it looked like it was this time.  Scouting for a good eclipse-viewing venue, we decided on a hill on one side of the parking lot, making sure that the floodlights all pointed away.  

     By the time we arrived, a couple from Windsor, Ontario had staked out our spot.  However, as true Canadians, they were chill and friendly and even let us use one of their blankets.

     The hour finally arrived and through our non-bogus Eclipse Glasses, we watched the moon begin to eat into the sun's disk.

     Not much seemed to change around us for a while, but as the crescent of the sun became thinner, as seen through our non-Amazon Eclipse Glasses, a strange, dream-like twilight descended, and I noticed that the dozen or so buzzards that had started circling us were headed for their nests.  (Do buzzards have nests?)

     And then it happened!  Suddenly the thin crescent of the sun disappeared, as viewed through our glasses conforming to and meeting the Transmission Requirements of ISO 12312-2 Filters For Direct Observation of the Sun. 

     We ripped them off and stood in awe.  The corona of the sun shown beautifully around the moon, with several tiny bright-orange solar flares projecting from it's edges.

     Looking around, the twilight had darkened further, but an almost-sunset could be seen in the distance, first behind us, then all around, then sadly, advancing toward us.

     Just after the fourth minute of the amazing totality ended, a mere instant of the "diamond ring" was visible before we grabbed for our glasses once again.  

     Afterward, it seemed like a dream.  It was impressive how soon the intensity of the daylight seemed back to normal, even though it took another hour or so before the moon completely unmasked the sun.

     OK, was it worth driving about nine hours each way?  Yeah, I think it was, even though the Eclipse Glasses didn't do much for our fashion sense. 

     I'd been a bit skeptical about the enthusiasm with which folks had described their experiences attending previous eclipses, but I have to admit, they were other-worldly moments that I'll not forget.  

     We stayed the night in Lima, though there was little of the feared traffic after the eclipse.  The next morning we started early for Raleigh (pronounced "RAH-lee") and by the afternoon we were unpacked and back to our sordid little lives.

     We hope that you were able, or will be able to attend an eclipse sometime.  And by the way, we've got five almost-new sets of Eclipse Glasses you can borrow.  Certified.

Dave & Paula