What do you do when you’re scared and don’t want to do something, but your husband is all enthusiastic about doing it? You go with him. So, I went with him to view the total solar eclipse on Monday, April 8.

I was always afraid of viewing an eclipse and never wanted to do it. As a young child, my second-grade teacher scared the class about the dangers of viewing it and I took that fear with me into adulthood.

Fast forward many years later, and this writer’s husband had a bucket wish of viewing a total solar eclipse. He researched when it would occur and reserved a rental car and motel room in Albany a year in advance.

We headed to Albany on Sunday so we could drive early the next morning to a place with the best view. Yikes!

All the motels and hotels were fully booked by other people who wanted to view the total eclipse. Everyone was watching the weather with bated breath, worried about cloud covering. I was secretly davening for clouds and rain.

We davened Shacharis at Congregation Beth Abraham-Jacob in Albany and, amazingly, the shul was overflowing with other visitors in quest of a view of the eclipse. It was like Rosh HaShanah with t’filin. It was so full on the men’s side, my husband said. I even met other Kew Gardens Hills residents there at shul.

The rabbi was so happy to have such a large attendance at the Shacharis minyan that he announced that there will be another eclipse next week.

A woman in the shul shared that her friend, who lives in a small town in upstate New York (in the Adirondacks), told her that 100,000 people had descended on this little town that only has one small general store. People commented that the huge number of visitors to upstate New York was a big boost for the small businesses there.

 

Driving towards Albany, the signs on the highway said, “Solar Eclipse Tomorrow. Arrive Early and Stay Late.” There were also signs warning not to park on the shoulder of the road to allow emergency vehicles to pass. Rest stops gave out free safety eclipse glasses. The roads were packed with cars and the Adirondack visitor center had cars parked on the off ramp.

People were wearing sweatshirts and T-shirts with pictures of the sun that said Solar Eclipse 2024. We met many people from all over the country. There were people from Massachusetts, Oklahoma, Connecticut, New Jersey, Borough Park, Delaware, etc.

There was a chasidic family in our motel from Monsey. All their children were wearing My First Total Eclipse sweatshirts.

The weather report predicted clouds in Albany and areas above Albany. It looked like the clearest view would be in Burlington, Vermont. So, we headed towards Vermont.

Somehow, our Waze said we would have to take a ferry to get to Vermont and my husband worried we’d be stuck waiting for a ferry and miss everything. That sounded good to me.

We recalibrated, and Waze took us off the beaten path. We ended up in Westport, New York, which has breathtaking views of ice-blue-colored Lake Champlain and the mountains. There were no clouds, so we decided to stay. There was a perfect viewing spot by the lake. Yikes!

There was also a sign that said “Viewing” pointing up to a golf course up on a high hill. It was still early in the day and people were camped out with portable folding chairs, waiting.

We found a picnic table near the lake. There was a lot of camaraderie and people introduced themselves. We met a retired elementary science teacher seated next to us whose expertise on the eclipse came in handy. We also met a couple from Ticonderoga who had a giant dog.

My husband met someone from Maryland whose brother-in-law worked for NASA, and he offered to help me understand not to be afraid of using safety glasses. I was hiding in the car when my husband met that person, so I never did speak to him. I did finally go back to the viewing spot, keeping my head down the whole way.

There were people seated near us putting safety glasses on their dog and shooting photos.

There was what seemed a long while of sitting and waiting. My stomach knotted and I still hoped for some last-minute clouding.

Everyone waited patiently as if awaiting a concert or play. The sun was the star (in more ways than one), and everyone anticipated her performance. Well, everyone except me.

At around 2:00 or 2:15 p.m., people started putting on eclipse glasses (that is everyone except me). The elementary school science teacher said you could also see the moon shine. My husband said the sun looked like a piece was missing from it.

I sat facing away and did not look up, but the really cool part was when, all of a sudden, at around 3:20 p.m. or so, everything grew darker and darker like twilight, and we felt a distinct chill in the air. Everyone gasped and cheered. My husband said you could see Jupiter and Venus and a couple of stars. Then, like a curtain lifting, the darkness melted away and it grew light again, but it was a strange surreal light. Everyone cheered and clapped. There were lots of exclamations of “Ooh!” and “Ahhh!”

My husband said that you could see the corona of the sun around the moon’s shadow when it was the total eclipse, and it was “totally” awesome.

The ride home was long, due to the incredible amount of traffic. It was quite an experience! It was amazing and I was glad it was over. It made me really appreciate every day when the sun and moon do what they normally do. It also made me think about how Hashem has created a magnificent world, and it really made me appreciate how wonderful it is that the sun shines on the earth every day and how everything works in such an incredible exactly timed way.

The elementary science teacher had pointed out how people’s shadows on the ground were longer than normal for that time of day.

I thought of my favorite line in T’hilim 121, “Hashem is my shadow.” As the rabbi in Albany had mentioned in shul that morning, there is a teaching in the Gemara that the moon represents the Jewish people. Just as the shadow of the tiny moon was able to cover the powerful sun, we are small, but we can still overshadow and defeat our enemies with Hashem’s help.

Baruch Hashem, we arrived back home, and I am happy to say that there won’t be another solar eclipse in the United States until 2044.

 By Susie Garber