Total Eclipse of the AR

I’ve been looking forward to the 2024 Solar Eclipse for YEARS. In fact, I made a calendar reminder in 2017 after the last local eclipse (89% coverage in Tulsa) because I really wanted to experience totality. I even set a reminder one year out so I could start looking for lodging because I knew it would attract a sea of humanity.

Well, life got busy. Samantha and I talked about going down and spending a few days, then we had to use that money elsewhere, then we had other priorities, etc. etc. All of that to say: when we got back to Oklahoma two days before the eclipse, we knew we wanted to drive and see the totality…but there was no formal plan. I checked the cloud map obsessively for 48 hours and plotted out multiple destinations in Arkansas, seemingly our best bet with the predictions. A destination of Mountain Home was selected and we set our alarms early for the morning of Monday, April 8th.

As soon as we woke up, though, that plan changed. A late shift in weather models (and the opinions of a few photographers I follow) pointed further south for better chances at clear skies. I set the GPS for Russellville instead and the three of us (Sam, Cindy, and me) left at 8:00 AM sharp.

Traffic was surprisingly light past Muskogee and Sallisaw into The Natural State. It started to pick up a little after crossing the border and I began second-guessing my destination. Maybe we could stop a little earlier and it wouldn’t take as long to get back home to Rex? I saw a sign for Mount Magazine State Park and called an audible, taking the I-40 offramp nearly 50 miles early. The four-lane interstate became a two-lane rural highway but still it wasn’t jam-packed with cars. We drove through Ozark, Webb City, Roseville, and entered Paris. We were joking about the provenance of the name when suddenly, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.

A Route 66 mural. Here, in a small Arkansas town, over 150 miles from the Mother Road. What was it doing here? Sam could tell it had sent my brain into overdrive. “Do you want to stop here?” she asked. I didn’t even think before saying yes. It was a sign! We diverted into a neighborhood and u-turned back to the town square, where an Eclipse Festival was in full swing. We found street parking easily and had hours to spare. What luck!

A small crowd had already gathered around the Logan County Courthouse and throughout the square, which was filled with vendor booths and surrounded by welcoming shops. In one corner, a 25-foot-tall Eiffel Tower fountain stood next to a small stage that would be hosting a children’s costume contest. Sam and Cindy gleefully ventured into the resale shops while I plunked down at True Grit Grounds, a coffee shop themed after the Charles Portis novel famously made into two films, one of which netted John Wayne his only Oscar. According to a tally board at the register, people from multiple countries had also come to Paris for the total eclipse.

Sufficiently caffeinated, I wandered more of the area around the square. I don’t always take the time to let myself wander in a place and it was refreshing to have some aimless time. I looked in old storefronts, photographed ghost signs, walked down side alleys, and said hello to folks relaxing in the shade. The high-level clouds were sparse and spirits were high. A little after 12:30, the eclipse began…but it would still be over an hour before totality.

Sam, Cindy, and I had a lovely time eating the picnic lunch that Sam had put together that morning. I’m a simple guy – I ate my peanut butter sandwich with the same delight that accompanied lunchtime in elementary school. I turned 43 years old the day before and in all those years, JIF has not lost its luster. Nor have chocolate Teddy Grahams!

As the moon slowly moved in front of the sun, the skies darkened…but it was a weird kind of dark. It looked like those old Hollywood films where they shot “day for night” meaning some kind of filter was used to try and make sunlight look like moonlight. The birds and crickets started chirping differently and the streetlights came on. We looked at the sun through our eclipse glasses and the bright orange glow of the daystar became a sliver. The music on the loudspeakers was paused. Then, in the blink of an eye, the sun was totally obscured.

It’s hard to describe the difference, even between that last partial moment and totality. The light takes on an entirely different quality. You can take off your eclipse glasses and look at the halo with your own eyes…and although I’ve seen pictures of a total eclipse, there’s nothing, NOTHING, like seeing it live. I grasped Samantha’s shoulder in a state of shocked awe. We were speechless for a moment, then all of downtown Paris let up a huge cheer. For three-and-a-half minutes, all of us were united in wonder.

Before that timer ran out, I skittered across the street to take a few photos. During totality, you don’t need a special filter and although all I had was my cell phone, I figured I had nothing to lose. We’d parked across from an old sign advertising The Paris Express, the local newspaper dating back to 1880. I couldn’t tell if they were still operating, but I wondered how many similar celestial events their reporters had covered over nearly a century-and-a-half of service.

I have to say I am fairly impressed at how well my Google Pixel 8 Pro handled the event.

Another cheer went up as totality ended and the moon continued its journey across the sky. Music started back up and the festival resumed. We took one more circuit around the square before getting in the car and heading out. The traffic back to Tulsa was much heavier and it took almost an extra hour to get back home. But it was very worth it…and something I will never forget.