While many of you in Internet Land were gathered around yule logs, menorahs or the TeeVee, I was shuffling around on the icy streets of Dayton, Ohio, staring at the sun.

For on this day, there was a 50-percent eclipse of our life-giving star. Those of you who've been tuned into The Network for the last couple of years know what lengths I've gone to and losses I've incurred in order to "get the shot." So the chance to capture this cosmic phenomenon from my sister's front yard was a welcome change.

I left Columbus at some time after 9 a.m. I rolled along I-70 with a good feeling in my heart. This had nothing to do with the heavily promoted holiday cheer and good tidings. The sky had completely opened up from the previous night and I knew there was going to be a great show.

I turned onto I-75 just before 11 a.m. The first contact had already taken place. Even though there was no way I could have seen any part of the moon's silhouette, I kept peering up at the sun. I guess I just needed to acknowledge to the heavens that I was paying attention.

Within a few minutes I pulled up to my sister's place. I lugged some plants (gifts that keep on growing) and other presents to her door. Then I jumped back into the van to retrieve the equipment. I took in a quick glance through the eclipse shades from Astronomy magazine. That was a breath-taker by itself, to see the huge bite that the curve of the moon had taken from the sun.

I had to slow myself down and breathe deeply. I didn't want to become too excited and misload the film or incorrectly set a camera. I began to do exposure calculations and mentally planned my attempt at a time-lapsed sequence on one frame. At the same time, I cleaned filters and eyepieces, turned on the engine to get the heater going, and kept glancing at the clock.

My sister's baby's daddy pulled up during this time. I think he was amazed or bewildered at the relatively odd things I do or say. That day had to have been the capper, what with me standing in the cold setting up cameras and a telescope on the side of the street. But Tony was far too polite to ever say anything. I stopped and helped him take his presents into the house.

By then, it was close to the time of maximum phase. I had taken a few quick shots with both cameras. I had also finally managed to get the telescope to stay in place (one of screws on the tripod mount had been broken weeks earlier). I was about to begin the time-lapse shot when I heard a chorus of "oohs" and "ahhs" from down the street. I stepped away from the van and saw a group of people at the end of the block, all of them holding black plastic glasses to their faces.

So of course I walked down and invited them over. Turned it into a party.

This was a group of seven or eight brother and sisters, from say 8 to 18. We shuffled back to the van, giddily chatting about what was going on and staring into the sky as we walked. They each took a turn looking through the telescope. The sunspots seemed to provide as much amazement as the mountain peaks that we could make out on the moon's edge.

As they returned to their house (but not before the ninth and youngest sibling showed up), they gave a pair of glasses to a couple that was trying to squint and see the eclipse. Once the guy had a proper view, he began to shout, "Oh my god, oh no! That can't be!" His companion took a look and she was amazed as well. They were walking to the house across the street, so I invited them and their host to take a look with the telescope as well.

My mother and grandmother pulled up about that time. Grandma got a look before I helped her up the steps. My mother, who watched me set up shots and observe at all hours the previous winter, bemusedly declared to the onlookers, "Yeah, this is what he does. I knew he'd be out here."

I stayed out for another half-hour or so. I managed to shoot the time-lapse image [link] while the first group of enthusiasts were with me. The tripod mount was loose, so this is why the solar image staggers. Only one exposure turned out with the Canon that I had outfitted with a 400mm lens. Big surprise, since the camera only exposes at 1/15 of a second.

As the afternoon wore on and I warmed up, I peeked through one of the kitchen windows to catch a few more shaded glimpses. If I had known that the view was so clear from inside, perhaps I would have spared myself the chill and bother.

Yeah, right, and I suppose someday a cow will jump over the moon.

The Vinson Taylor Memorial iMac Observatory
Eclipse Viewing Information for 25 December 2000
Prepared by Damon Taylor on 22 January 2001

More photos of this event and many others can be found
in the gallery archives of the Space Weather Bureau




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