THE LAST ECLIPSE IN AMERICA

THE LAST SOLAR ECLIPSE

By CuriousQ

August 16, 2017

Path of the last solar eclipse over the U.S., on the afternoon of June 8, 1918.

On the afternoon of June 8^th, 1918, the shadow of a solar eclipse had completed half of it’s pass over the earth when it reached the United States.  First it passed over the Pacific Ocean south of Japan, then the Alaskan coast to the western coast of Washington.

The shadow of the eclipse was about 66 miles wide. Key passing points are shown on the map, above, as it made it’s way across America.  The cities of South Bend and Aberdeen, Washington, were very close to the shadow path, and had the longest duration of totality in the United States.

From there, it passed over Portland, Oregon, Boise, Idaho, Salt Lake, Utah, Boulder and Denver, Colorado, Dodge City, Kansas, and Guthrie, Oklahoma….where my story begins.

It was a sunny, hot day, on June 18, 1918, on a small farm in the panhandle of Oklahoma. Beyond the farmyard, a 9-year-old girl could see wheat growing in the adjacent fields, fruit ripening in the orchard, and a large garden plot waiting to be tended.  

Rag doll in one hand, she scuffed across the yard – mostly dirt, very little grass – on her way to perform her daily duty – collecting eggs from the hen house.  Her dress was long, near ankle length, made of the cotton feed sacks that now came in pretty prints – valued for dresses, shirts, and quilts. Over it, she wore a white apron, meant to collect the grim even a little girl could get into – and save the more valuable print dress.

It was hot and dry, and a few grasshoppers sprang up, fleeing her progress as she walked to see what gifts the hens had for her.  It was a favorite chore.  She liked watching the soft, fluffy birds as they strutted and pecked their way through the farm yard, garden and orchard – doing a thorough job of ‘de-bugging’, as they went.  Several of the hens were her favorites – they came to her in greeting, and enjoyed being lightly stroked.  Sometimes she brought special treats – produce and fruit scraps the hens liked to peck and gobble, with satisfying clucks.

All of the chickens were foraging, choosing morsels that made their eggs taste so good, as she walked thorough them to the coop.  A breath of cool wind swept over her.  She looked up, and noticed it was getting a little cloudy – perhaps rain was coming.  Rain was always welcome.  It made their crops grow, and cooled the hot air.  

She enjoyed watching the hens, as they rushed to see what one forager had found, fought for a tidbit of it, then went back to scratching and searching.  

Only a few minutes passed by, as she watched their antics, when she noted that the sky was darkening even more – much more than a common thunderstorm.  Even the hens looked around, noting the change in their environment.

As it became darker and darker, near ‘twilight’ now, on that formerly sunny day, the chickens, in concert, began to hurry toward the coop – to settle down for the coming ‘night’ that seemed to be nearing.  

The girl watched with great interest – strangely having little fear as the sky became quite dark – as if the sun had gone out.  She looked up – and most of the sun seemed to be obscured – and wondered why – if that was causing this sudden change from day to night.

She turned her glance back to the chickens, as the last one scurried up the ramp and into the hen house, clucking nervously as the bird srabbled upwards into the safety of the coop.

Enjoying the cooling wind, though the darkness seemed very strange, the girl stood thoughtfully, listening to the chirrups and clucks in the coop, giving consideration to the sudden ‘night’ that had just fallen.

Then, even more quickly than it had begun, the sky started to lighten.  With each minute, it began brighter, first like the soft light of sunrise, and moved quickly to midday again.

The girl heard a gathering commotion in the coop – sounds of taloned feet and fluttering wings as the birds came down from their roosts.  The rooster was the first to appear – and crowed his announcement that a ‘new day’ had begun.

Once again, the sun was high in the sky, and the day quickly returned to it’s normal heat.  

Cautiously peering outside the doorway, then to and fro as they paraded down the ramp, the hens clucked loudly, seeming to chatter amongst themselves.  Each cocked her head, casting an apprehensive eye upward, obviously disturbed and confused.

“It was a darned short night, wasn’t it?”, they seemed to be observing, as they slowly began their daily routine.  

Laughing, the girl went about her chore of gathering eggs, now that the hens had left them unattended – an easier task than having to slide your hand under a nesting bird to hopefully slide out an egg, without getting pecked.

She walked to the house, the eggs gathered up in her apron.  With one hand she swished her skirt, enjoying the small luxury of having a pretty gathered skirt to twirl in – and to stir up a little air and cool her a bit.  

She pulled open the screen door of the small frame farm house, and her mother’s voice called out: “Don’t let the screen door….” but didn’t finish, on hearing the bang of the door.

“Mama!”, she called, “you’ll never believe what just happened!”

In an age when schooling consisted of a one-room school house, and the only news to be found was in the local paper – often weeks old by the time it was read.  Very few people knew of the coming of the 1918 eclipse, so many were amazed – some even terrified – when it happened, thinking that the end of the world had come.

Many years later, the little girl, Edna Hamilton Levy, then over 90 years of age, recalled the story, laughing as she told it to us – her children.  We asked her if it had frightened her – and she she said it hadn’t – she just thought it highly unusual – and funny to watch the silly chickens react to the ‘short night’.  

She couldn’t recall how old she was at the time, so we researched when an eclipse over the panhandle of Oklahoma had occurred – and discovered she had been about 9 years old at the time – and the eclipse had happened, just as she remembered it.

My mother lived to be 104 years old – and was probably one one of a few people who actually witnessed that eclipse in 1918 – and could tell about it.  

Now, new generations will have an opportunity to re-tell their stories of the eclipse they witnessed in in 2017 – 99 years after the last eclipse seen in America.

End

Linda Gale

[email protected]

August 16, 2017