It hasn't happened in the United States since 2017, and after April 8, 2024, it won't happen again for another 20 years: A total solar eclipse will be visible through a path cutting across the nation, inspiring wonder for millions of people.
But for some, this extra-special event is even more meaningful.
Umbraphiles ‒ that's the name for people who chase eclipses (we had to look it up) ‒ will drop everything to get to the zone of totality, areas where the eclipse is complete and viewing is optimal. The 2024 eclipse's zone of totality will cut across several states, making a slight arc from Texas to Maine. In the moments of totality, wildlife will go still, the temperature will drop, and millions of people will gaze (hopefully each of them through eclipse-safe lenses) at a short celestial pas de deux.
Gaëlle Callnin wasn't sure she wanted to go on a 2017 camping trip with a group from her Denver volleyball club. But the trip would bring them to an area of Nebraska where they'd get a full view of the solar eclipse, so she opted in.
Turns out, the celestial intersection of sun, moon and Earth wasn't the only connection she'd be part of. On the trip, she met Eric DeRuyter, a civil engineer and another reluctant traveler drawn to the eclipse, camping with another Denver volleyball club.
Now, she's Gaëlle Callnin DeRuyter and traveling to Texas with her husband, her adult son, some of their friends and their two rescue dogs to see the 2024 eclipse. The couple got married five years to the day after the 2017 eclipse, making their vows as they completed a sunrise hike.
"The eclipse was the momentous occasion that brought us together," said Callnin DeRuyter, who works for a tech startup. "The next one won't happen for another 20 years (in 2044), and we don’t know if we’d be able to travel for an eclipse again."
When Matt Lopes saw the 2017 eclipse, he said the 5.5-hour trip from Seattle to Corvallis, Oregon, where he viewed the spectacle, took 13 hours on the way back because of traffic.
Nonetheless, he said, "I was hooked!"
"It was such an awesome and magical experience" that he booked another eclipse-centered trip to Chile in 2020. A global pandemic nixed that excursion, though.
A year ago, Lopes launched Eclipse Over America, selling eclipse glasses he designed. A portion of the proceeds will go to climate- and environmentally-focused nonprofits as part of the 1% For the Planet initiative and will support local artists.
"Eclipses have changed my life in such a positive way," he said. "My family and I are already planning Spain 2026, Egypt 2027, Australia/New Zealand 2028 and South Africa 2030. Our son was born in 2022 and I can't wait to initiate him into the society of umbraphiles!"
John Braun's dad was an amateur astronomer, and he passed that fascination with the sun, moon and stars on to his son. This will be the fourth time Braun has traveled to see a solar eclipse; he's seen them with his father, his own sons and this time, he's going with his wife, Kay, from their Pottstown, Pennsylvania, home to San Antonio, Texas.
After so many trips, he's learned a few things. The couple originally thought about going to Mazatlan, Mexico, but flights there were booking quickly. People tend to stop, look, then decide to get back into their cars and drive home, so it's best to make other plans near the viewing area if possible − he recalled long backups on Interstate 80 when he went to Aiken, South Carolina, to view the 2017 eclipse.
"Anything you want to do in the eclipse zone is expensive and crowded," said Braun, who works in communications for a financial services firm. So instead of flying to Dallas, they're going to Houston a few days ahead. They booked an Airbnb a year in advance − before the host thought to raise the price.
Michael Radov saw the 2017 eclipse in Oregon while volunteering at the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum. The technology consultant said he knew then "2024 is a must." In the meantime, though, he got married and is now the father of a young son. Knowing the limitations of traveling with a toddler, he researched. And researched. And researched some more, to the point where he's dispensing advice to others on a subReddit. The family is traveling from Baltimore to Texas, visiting the Perot Museum of Nature and Science and a nearby state park.
"For me, 2017 was almost like the birth of a child: Something you don't know how profound it will be until you go through it," he said. "It was so amazing, I can see how people 2,000, 3,000 years ago thought it was a religious experience."
He's offered advice on the best places to visit and the fastest routes to take, but his primary advice is simple: "Just do what you can do, have fun and enjoy the experience," he said. "And don’t worry about getting the best photo. Someone else will do it. Spend the time to enjoy this."
Some families are celebrating eclipse birthdays. Jim Highfield and his family are taking a pop-up camper from their Cincinnati suburb to Bloomington, Indiana. About 20 of their friends also have reservations at the campground, and his youngest son is turning 14 on April 8.
April 8 will also be the day a new NCAA men's basketball champion is crowned. "So if we have sunny weather and his team wins it all, it has the potential to be the best birthday of his life," Highfield said.
In 2017, the family stayed in Western Kentucky for the eclipse, and Highfield even planned a musical accompaniment for the occasion: "It begins with 'Bad Moon Rising' by CCR just as the partial eclipse starts, then totality begins when Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side of the Moon' ends, and the eclipse ends right about when 'Mr. Blue Sky' by ELO ends."
Peter Chiles is driving from Philadelphia to the Cleveland area to meet his father, who's celebrating his 73rd birthday. "He mentioned it will be the last chance to see one in his lifetime," said Chiles, whose dad is coming from Asheville, North Carolina, "so it's important to me not to miss it like I did in 2017."
For others, the eclipse isn't just a chance to experience something profound with their families − it's an opportunity to come together with many others, drawn by a sense of something bigger than themselves.
Brian Greenstone owns Sandy Ranch West in Texas Hill Country. He's expecting about 140 people to converge on the 113-acre site. Anticipating at least 10 RVs and 21 tents set up as temporary housing, Greenstone began organizing a year ago, but it hasn't been without challenges, he said: Airbnbs in nearby Fredericksburg have canceled some guests' reservations so they could charge higher rates; some vendors have backed out. And he's worried about "extreme gridlock in the county as soon as the eclipse is over."
Still, he said, "If the weather cooperates it should be quite the event."
Seth McGowan is president of the Adirondack Sky Center in Tupper Lake, New York, but his background is in education, not astronomy. So the retired school superintendent brings a layman's enthusiasm to the job, and to Totality in Tupper, a community-wide event that includes music, food, entertainment − and an 18-foot screen where people can see NASA's live feed of the eclipse as it makes its way from Mexico to Canada.
The center is teaming with a nearby elementary school to host visitors and to offer educational programs for children centered around the eclipse. McGowan enrolled in NASA's training programs for educators and the center is an official eclipse ambassador.
"The purpose of our organization is to demystify the universe for people," he said. "We want people to know, you don't have to be an astrophysicist to enjoy this. For every astrophysicist out there, there are a thousand amateurs who are excited because this is something they'll only see once."
McGowan has seen total eclipses before, most recently in Kentucky in 2017, and found the celestial convergence a moment to bask in our collective humanity.
"There is crying. There is cheering. ... You feel like you're part of something big that makes you feel so small," he said. "You all feel united in that moment."
Even in this moment of political and cultural division?
"What I hope in my most altruistic part of my heart, is that this will be a cleansing moment for America," McGowan said. "We'll come together for 3 minutes and 33 seconds, so we can do it.
"You are one with everybody in that moment and all those differences are gone."
Contact Phaedra Trethan by email at [email protected], on X (formerly Twitter) @wordsbyphaedra, or on Threads @by_phaedra.