Many make trek to see total solar eclipse

   It may have been the first time in its history that the village of Arthur, Nebraska, had so many people there at once, and certainly it was the first time such a diverse crowd visited. Walking around the Arthur County Fairgrounds Monday morning in anticipation of the Aug. 21 total eclipse were people from all around the country — and even some international visitors.
    They came from varied locations with different backgrounds and ranged from strollers to wheelchairs, but everyone had the same goal: to see the total solar eclipse. For up to a week in advance people began camping out at what was routinely described as “the middle of nowhere, Nebraska.” Perhaps the biggest surprise was that there weren’t more people from relatively nearby. Many hailed from the Denver area, but there did not seem to be as many people from northeastern Colorado and southwestern Nebraska as expected.
    Regardless of the distance traveled to get there, the overwhelming response was that it was worth every minute, and at least for those in Arthur, the traffic and the crowds weren’t nearly as bad as they had prepared for.
    On the drive to Arthur, a makeshift sign had been erected on Highway 61 marking the edge of totality. The radio, of course, played “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Everything about the experience added to the excitement and anticipation as 10:28 a.m. neared.
    Local community members and 4-H kids served as the hosts at the Arthur fairgrounds, and visitors were constantly impressed by the small-town hospitality and the manners of the youth. A few young locals said they were amazed by the number of people and especially the distance they had traveled to get there. One man, in response to a passing thank-you, simply said, “It’s not ours; we just want to share it.” And sharing seemed to be the theme of the day. Total strangers joined together to witness a once-in-a-lifetime natural phenomenon, showing a unity and neighborliness that is not the norm. They shared food and drinks with each other, passing the time with stories and making sure everyone was prepared to see the eclipse.  
      Professional photographers and astronomy hobbyists were happy to share their knowledge with curious people, and some let those nearby look through their telescopes for an up-close view of the moon passing in front of the sun.
      Once the eclipse had begun, people called out how much time had passed, keeping other viewers aware of how close they were to totality. With the weather just barely cooperating after a foggy, cloudy morning, viewers nervously watched a lingering cloud as the clock ticked on toward 11:51 a.m., the moment when totality was to begin. That cloud moved in the nick of time, and when the diamond ring effect indicated totality had begun, the crowds cheered and gave their full attention for a very brief 2 minutes and 21 seconds. Then it was finished. Sunlight returned, temperatures rose, and everyone went their separate ways, left with the memory of an experience unlike any other.
         While Holyoke was outside the path of totality, many joined the millions nationwide who viewed the partial eclipse. For more information from local eclipse coverage, look inside the Enterprise.