I didn’t think much about the significance of the event a couple months ago when a friend first announced that he booked a few rooms in Crawfordsville, Indiana for April seventh and asked if I wanted to take a little early spring road trip.

As if trying to make it easier for me to respond to the invitation with a “yes,” he relayed that I could cancel up to three days before our reservation.

I agreed to the trip then went into pondering mode. What the hell is in Crawfordsville?

He explained that nothing special was in Crawfordsville, but it was only forty-five minutes from Indianapolis where people were expected to gather on the eighth for the solar eclipse – in the path of totality.

I don‘t recall making plans in 2017, when another eclipse was visible over twelve states, many in the Midwest, for the first time in four decades, but it sounded like something cool to do.

My friend assured me that he would order protective cardboard glasses from Amazon and our other traveling companion offered his car and suggested a viewing site where he knew of a travel club meeting for the event.

I made a list of things to bring, like a small cooler and folding chairs, and did some research online, taking note of small municipalities that were marketing festivals around the great “moon shadow.”

I was unprepared for the many brand tie-ins and businesses that wanted to cash in on the special event. Of course, “MoonPies” were promoted heavily and Krispy Kreme offered “Total Solar Eclipse Doughnuts,” a glazed doughnut dipped in black chocolate icing,

I was amazed at how much people were willing to spend for a hotel room near a good viewing spot after procrastinating until a semi-reliable weather forecast could be had.

And Delta, Southwest and a few other commercial airlines made special flights available so people could see the eclipse from above the clouds.

Schools closed on the afternoon of eighth, like it was a special snow day. The major TV networks ran eclipse-related programming for several hours that afternoon with reporters contributing from areas where the moon was going to completely cover the sun in the afternoon sky at some point.

The eclipse was to take 1 to 4 minutes depending on location. News anchors and media personalities repeated that it was an event that shouldn’t be missed.

After our buffet breakfast at the Best Western in Crawfordsville, my friends and I decided to go to a state park near Bloomington instead of a parking lot near Indy. It meant a longer drive home but a chance of hanging out in nature.

The conditions were perfect; low seventies and only a few wisps of clouds.

We parked near a camping area, dragged our chairs to a nearby patch of grass and figured out where the action above was to take place. We took short hikes along park trails.

Young parents could be heard warning their kids to keep their cardboard glasses in place.

Serious hobbyists, photographers and telescope-lugging nerds, picked out their viewing spots by noon. We enjoyed hanging out while we waited for the sky to darken.

Cardboard glasses anchored securely behind our ears, we looked up occasionally and noticed the crescent of light change thickness as the moon moved in front of the sun, from the sickle shape you’d see on the flag of Turkey, to barely mimic the end of a finger nail…to nothing at all.

Just before the sky got dark, the air temperature fell.  I became more appreciative of how much light and heat the sun gives off EVERY DAY.

And when the sky went dark for about four minutes, the dogs that accompanied their humans on this family adventure started barking like crazy. They didn’t know what was happening.  For them, it was otherworldly, for sure.

For them, it probably seemed like an eternity.  For some of us, it was over too quickly.

And I thought about the classic sci fi film, “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” the mantra-like phrase, “Klaatu Barada Nikto.”

Did it mean, Save the Earth or Where’s the bathroom or Thank you?

I considered that everyone who watched the solar eclipse of April 2024 had their own experience, their own interpretation…but they had their personal experience with millions of others.

Sharing an experience that you are fully present for with one other person or with a continent is no small thing.

Photo by Jan Haerer on Unsplash