In 1997, I had gotten used to traveling to major events. When I discovered that a total solar eclipse would occur over the island of Aruba during Carnivale, I immediately decided I wanted to be there. My next thought was “how could I do it?”.
It was still the early days of the internet as a commercial platform. I decided to go the educational route and came up with KidsEclipse.com, a location that would teach young children the mechanics behind the celestial event. I had no background in astronomy beyond keeping track of the stars in the sky and occasional astrophotography. I had gotten a reputation at the Tampa Tribune as a guy who took a lot of pictures of planets and the moon, but never thought I was a player in the field.
I researched total solar eclipse, going to the library and looking up astronomy books. One name kept popping up, Professor Jay Pasachoff at Williams College in Massachusetts. I took a chance and called him. I explained what I was thinking of doing and he immediately invited me to drive up to Williams and meet with him.
His enthusiasm was infectious. I told him I was hiring a fourth grade teacher from a Harlem Elementary School to write my content and lesson plan. He wrote down seven lines on a piece of paper. He said to ask her if she could include information on the topics. He gave me three of his books and said they contained everything we needed to know. I photographed him in the observatory at the college. It was a profound moment in my life.
As we talked, I found his knowledge and predictions challenged me. I wanted to please him with my final product, KidsEclipse.com, and the documentation I would do on Aruba. Over the next three months, we talked on a regular basis. I planned on spending an afternoon with his team at their base camp on Aruba as they planned nearly every second of totality. The February 26, 1998, total solar eclipse in Aruba would be his 26th solar eclipse. He viewed his first eclipse in 1959, the year I was born.
One of my fondest memories was Professor Pasachoff in front of a roomful of Aruban schoolchildren the day before the eclipse. There he was in a white t-shirt, white pants and curly hair, spouting a tale of the moon covering the sun and how it was the most magical thing in the cosmos. Little did any of us know, even the 38-year-old photographer enamored by his lecture to nine-year-olds.
The next day, as I stood atop a hotel balcony watching my world change, I thought the 3 minutes 34 seconds of totality were the closest I have ever felt to believing in a deity. How could the cosmos make something like this happen so randomly in such a spectacular display. Someone designed a mathematical equation that repeats itself every eighteen months somewhere on the planet Earth. The fact that the Earth, Moon and Sun are all the perfect distance and proportions just can’t be random, can it? Jay just smiled when I asked him.
After Aruba, we stayed in touch as I decided if I was going to continue the site. On August 11, 1999, I talked with Jay and updated kidseclipse with his expedition to Rimnicu Vilcea, Romania. Jay also put me in contact with Search for Common Ground, a non-profit, non-governmental organization based in Washington D.C., that was bringing a group of students to Iran to witness the eclipse from the ancient city of Esfahan. My daughter had just been born and there was no way I was traveling to the eclipse. Another big turning point in my life.
kidseclipse.com peaked with the Christmas Day partial eclipse in 2000. As it waned, I lost touch with Jay Pasachoff. I regret the loss of that friendship.
In 2017, I took my 88-year-old father back to his childhood home when the August 21st total solar eclipse passed directly over my grandfather’s farm in Brasstown, North Carolina. On the deck of our rented house, I repeated words I had learned from Professor Pasachoff in a converted schoolroom on Aruba. My father told me my explanations during the eclipse was one of the best moments of his life. I have Jay Pasachoff to thank for that moment with my dad.
In 2024, I camped with my daughter in Franklin, Vermont, for my third eclipse, the first with my daughter. She missed 2017 because of preseason Field Hockey at Nichols College, This time I was not going to miss the opportunity with her.
The day before we left, I googled Jay Pasachoff and discovered he had died on November 20, 2022, a fact that made me incredibly sad. I read the tribute to Jay Pasachoff by Williams College President Maud S. Mandel and realized that he had made a profound impact on my life.
As I watched my third total solar eclipse with my daughter by my side, I suddenly realized I really wanted to just watch it. Taking photographs took a backseat to having as much of the 3 minutes 30 seconds of wonder with my daughter. The hole in the sky drew us both in. The world feels new and mysterious. Jay Pasachoff witnessed 36. I wish I could come close.
One of the songs I played during the eclipse was Blinded by the Light, a song by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band that has the great stanza;
“Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun…
But mama, that’s where the fun is”
Definitely the description of a total solar eclipse. Thank you Professor Pasachoff, you opened my eyes and showed me where the fun is.
