The Nebula

June 1994

Newsletter of the Wabash Valley Astronomical Society

THE BIG ONE!

Annular Eclipse at 12:02 p.m. as photographed by John S. Rubacha with a Celestron C8 and Meade solar filter.

Ring of Photons

On Tuesday, May 10, 1994 at 12:03 p.m., two mutually exclusive events occurred simultaneously over the grounds of Purdue University; clear skies and a solar eclipse. While some could debate as to which event had the greater cosmological significance, the members of the Wabash Valley Astronomical Society were there with their telescopes, solar filters, pinhole boxes, and Mylar glasses to observe a ring of photons that were created by the chance alignment of the Sun, Moon, and Earth. Crowds of curious onlookers grew in direct proportion to amount of light covered by the shadow of the Moon as it slowly traveled across the Sun's disk. By mid-eclipse, over 600 people were eager to view the last great annular eclipse of the 20th century occurring over the United States. They weren't disappointed.

Relativistic Time Effects

Einstein was right when he said "all things, including time, are relative." Solar eclipses are a testimony to the fact. As 1 waited for totality, time seemed to move in uniform, linear manner with plenty of opportunities to observe peeks at the Sun, take pictures, and explain the events of the day to those who had gathered around my telescope. However, during the six minutes of totality a great time compression effect occurred. Within 30 seconds, my carefully developed plans of observing and photographing the eclipse quickly fell apart as the Moon raced across the Sun's disk. Pinned in by the crowd, I had only enough time to snap a few quick pictures, and watch the eclipse by projection on the telescope that was next to me. Based upon these events, 1 can see why a true eclipse chaser should have three telescopes, one to view by, one to photograph by, and one to show projections to everybody else.

Comments by John S. Rubacha

Another Perspective

As I stepped onto the mall at about 10:00 a.m., it was clear that something special was about to take place. Unfamiliar telescopes and an elaborately built information booth were signals that more than just club members would be observing today. Amazingly enough, the weather gods were uncharacteristically generous and we were blessed with a sky that a cloud wouldn't dare to disturb.

Bill Annis at the WVAS Booth

I decided to bring my binoculars and to project the sun through them onto a white piece of paper stuck inside a small box. Certainly a crude setup next to some of the other equipment, but it was a way I could participate in the event rather than be just another onlooker.

I was proud when the first image of the sun glowed onto the paper; actually surprised. I'm always surprised something I try actually works the first time, no matter how easy others make it look. In addition to the success of the binoculars, I enjoyed all views of the sun, whether projected onto various flat white objects or seen directly through solar filters. Joe and I both commented that solar observing is much more interesting than we ever expected, and given the cloudy evenings here, probably less frustrating.

Members of the public safely view the eclipse through a WVAS pinhole box.

My uncle says that everything in nature follows the "bell curve", and certainly the crowd fit that description. Starting off with only the equipment operators and a few other curious people (probably a Purdue grounds crew wondering who's ruining their grass), the number of people grew slowly until around 11:30 when people arrived in droves. Some brought blankets and staked out a place on the ground for optimal viewing, while others positioned themselves next to the projection screens for clear sight. Some were so desperate they formed a ring around my humble binoculars. Then the cheer went up as the moon veiled the sun, which was when my image decided to leave the box. I finally got it back in view and an impressive sight it was. But the moon was not to be stopped and before I had time to lose the image again, it found the other side of the sun and continued its trek. The crowd stuck around for a short while, maybe as surprised as I was at how quickly it was over!

Aaron and his famous 8" inch scope.

Certainly I'll remember the day well. The eerie light that shone around annularity, in some sense bright and in some sense dark, can never be duplicated. Then there were the looks on people's faces as they watched the happenings, people who rarely look up from their day to day lives. And I was struck by how much more there is to the universe than what I'm able to touch, or hear, or even see.

Joe Poirier ran one of the Meade 6 inch telescopes and gave solar projections views to countless viewers.

Afterwards I talked to people who weren't the least bit interested in the eclipse. I was surprised at first, but then understood. Some people talk of opening night of a show as an historic moment; others can't resist a book fresh off the new book shelf.

Jeff Wieland and John Rubacha chase the eclipse with dual telescopes.

The electricity of certain moments isn't wasted on everyone; only a chosen few get to experience the excitement. I was glad I was chosen to feel the thrill of the eclipse. It kind of puts things in perspective for me and my place in the universe.

George Wyncott gives a live interview to Channel 18 reporter Chris Parente about the eclipse.

Now I sit here on the evening of the partial lunar eclipse looking out at the first rain in over a week. I see that the weather gods are back on vacation, but this time I don't really mind.

Article by Greg Rhoads

Temperature Change

Temperature changes plotted by Kathy Rubacha during the eclipse.