By Mark “Ziggy” Eilets
As I awoke on the bright and early morning of April 6, I was jumping with joy to get in my dad’s van to depart for Terrel, Texas. We were setting out on a 15-hour journey, traveling across two states in the process. When we first arrived in Texas, I started smelling the crisp, warm, and humid air all around me as we stopped for our first night’s rest at a rest stop near Hedley.
The next day was filled with tons of souvenirs, driving, and stops for gas, and as we were heading to our final destination, a Walmart parking lot in Terrell, we spotted some campers at a nice lush grassy area near Mesquite, suiting up for the eclipse. As we approached the Walmart, I felt my body going through a whole host of changes due to the drastic 20-degree temperature rise, and due to the fact that we had gone 8,000 feet down in a mere day and a half.
While we were waiting at the Walmart parking lot for the eclipse, we decided that a Walmart wasn’t a good place to view an astounding spectacle that wouldn’t happen again in America for another 20 years, so we embarked on a journey to find the very same park we had driven by, which caused both of us a bit of a headache trying to join the other eclipse enthusiasts.
We eventually found our way into East Samuell Farm Park in Mesquite. The air felt heavy, wet, and warm on my throat compared to Colorado, and it felt like I could run a marathon due to the extra oxygen. That day was filled with amusement and joy, as they had set up an entire eclipse festival for the grandiose astronomical spectacle.
That night, I could hardly sleep, and was having vivid nightmares about missing the eclipse, so we made sure to get up bright and early to be the first ones there. By 9 a.m., there were so many people awaiting the eclipse that we could hardly breathe. As the hours passed, it just kept getting cloudier, so as a result many people left. As the clouds started to clear up, many people regained hope just in time for the eclipse.
When the moon started passing in front of the sun at around 12:25 p.m., I got out my telescope and solar filter to start taking photos.
While we were all anxiously awaiting totality, I indulged in some of the fun events they had set up at the festival, such as painting rocks, eclipse trivia, and other games.Then, I went back to my telescope to take some shots, and met a few people, like this nice family that traveled all the way from India, another lady from Spain, and even a YouTuber with 2.5 million subscribers that I got a short bit in. Even the BBC was there, although I didn’t get a chance to see them, as I was too focused on my telescope.
It was all going well until around 1:01 p.m., when the clouds in the sky started blanketing together again to cover the intense spectacle. Around 1:32 p.m., around eight minutes before totality, they started to clear up just enough for me to get in a couple shots, and they thankfully remained that way until totality. Needless to say, we were all holding our breath and praying that the clouds would dissipate for 31 minutes — what seemed like an eternity.
As totality approached, I could feel the wind slow down as the temperature dropped. We could all see the moon’s shadow approaching rapidly on the horizon line, as I readied my phone and telescope to get some once-in-a-lifetime shots.
When the moon fully covered the sun, it was like someone turned off the lights, and it got almost completely dark out, to the point where you could even see Jupiter and Venus in the sky as tiny little dots. People were cheering for this amazing spectacle, which I cannot even begin to fully describe. Birds and all other animals got quiet, and it felt like a switch got turned off in the sky. For me, other than the sun being blocked out for a good four minutes, the most interesting thing was how the temperature dropped by 15-20 degrees and the wind completely stopped.
As that blissful four minutes came to an end, not many would admit it, but I was ready to cry, right then and there. As the moon was slowly heading away from the sun, I went to the festival, taking more photos through my telescope every 10-15 minutes, and fulfilled my conversations for the day with some wonderful people, and even played some kickball in the midst of the returning sun.
As the partial eclipse was coming to an end and we wished sweet ole Texas goodbye, I remembered all the people I met along the way, and everyone who impacted my life during that little three-day trip for the great eclipse of April 8, 2024.