When a total solar eclipse crossed North America on Monday, April 8, Elsipogtog First Nation was on the path of totality. Journalism students from St. Thomas University’s Aotiitj program wrote down their observations.
Chenille Augustine:
“What is there to see?” I begrudgingly grumbled, kicking on my crocs. It was five minutes until totality.
The air felt charged as I watched the shadows of tree branches transform into writhing black snakes. I began blinking rapidly while regret pooled at my feet. Two minutes until totality and I couldn’t look. In the distance you could hear the rez dogs wailing, clearly confused.
One minute until totality. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I debated. “Life is meant to be lived,” I thought as the cerulean sky began to dim.
Totality. Gazing upon the eclipse in awe, I began to laugh so joyously that it caught on to my family. “Life is meant to be lived.”
Manny Simon:
I watched this special event from the front porch of my auntie, or sogoii, on Main Street West here in Elsipogtog.
It was more than awesome to share this event with my sogoii, Freda May Augustine, and her daughter Gloria.
My sogoii will be 88 years old on May 20 and this eclipse was truly a once in a lifetime event for her, to see daylight turn into darkness for about four minutes.
We shared special glasses to watch the eclipse. The view was amazing to see. Even my sogoii looked at it, then sat down to see the darkness turning back into daylight and that too was beautiful to see.
As this was going on it got chilly very quickly. The winds were calm. I could hear people cheering when the eclipse reached totality.
I also saw what they call the diamond ring, a burst of light on the edge of the moon, just as the eclipse was ending. That part I will never forget.
Sandy Francis:
My family and I arrived at my mother’s house in Elsipogtog at 2:50 p.m. My whole family was outside. The sunshine was so warm, my car dash read 18 C. The driveway was muddy and squished under the weight of my feet. We tested our glasses and sat down in the backyard.
At 3:35 p.m., the partial eclipse began. By 4:15 p.m. the sun was halfway covered, and the earth became colder. The dogs in Elsipogtog started to howl. They sounded aggravated.
At 4:27 p.m., the sun was more than 75 per cent eclipsed, just a small sliver. The earth and sky were grey, and our shadows became less crisp. I started to shake from the temperature drop. My mother’s backyard looked like a two-dimensional oil painting, with no harsh lines, and the shadows on the trees looked artificial.
At 4:35 p.m., I could hear our neighbour say: “Here it is! It’s coming!” By 4:36 p.m., the eclipse was in totality, and I was completely engrossed. The earth was dark and so silent, either that or I couldn’t hear anything beyond the sound of my own heart pounding in my chest. I was freezing cold and shaking from excitement. It was an ominous but beautiful thing to witness. My little sister said: “Wow.” I took a spin and admired the 360-degree sunset.
At 4:41 p.m., a sliver of sun returned; I felt the warmth. By 4:54 p.m., I could hear chickadees all over the backyard in various trees singing. The backyard was bright, warm, and inviting again.
Lisha Francis:
What an experience to share with loved ones.
I watched with my four-year-old daughter, and making sure my wee one did not look up without proper eye protection was a task and half, I must admit. However, experiencing the eclipse was a must.
The air felt somehow flat, dense, and almost electrifying, as though it was creeping up to say boo. But it lingered over us to remind people who is the ultimate boss.
During the total eclipse, Elsipogtog was quiet, and it felt like time stood still for about four minutes.
People were struck with so much awe that they forgot about the crazy stories going around social media that the eclipse was the end of the world and instead they just lived in the moment.
It made people realize they were just a small spec on a much larger scale.
I hope most people had the luxury like I did and watched with loved ones nearby, so if anyone felt scared or alone, they had someone there to comfort them.
I hope people had the luxury of feeling all the love I did, because everyone deserves that same feeling.
Lance Francis:
It was a chilly day in Elsipogtog, with a breeze rustling the trees and the sun bearing down giving warmth. The ground was wet and muddy, from the previous day’s snow melting.
The sky was bright blue with hardly a cloud in sight to ruin the moment. My family and I started testing our special eclipse glasses around 2:50 p.m. Forty-five minutes later we saw the eclipse start, looking at it through the glasses.
All you could see was an orange dot in the sky, with a bite taken out of it. We would periodically check its progress while chatting.
Around 4:15 p.m., the dogs start getting crazy and it became noticeably colder. The colour was seeping away from our surroundings, getting greyer, until sometime after 4:34 p.m., when totality occurred.
The sun was a dark circle with white edges peeking around, and practically everything was silent. Dogs and birds made no discernable sound, or I was too engrossed to notice.
After four minutes of totality, the sun started shining again, light and warmth returned, and the animals felt safe talking again, barking and tweeting as loud as ever.
Anna-Leah Simon:
“The eclipse is a sacred moment, we are not meant to look at it,” my grandmother said.
I did not have the proper eye protection and I remembered that the event would be livestreamed. We watched the livestream on the CBC app on my iPad at the kitchen table while we ate supper.
Through the window above the kitchen sink, we could see the sky. My grandmother got excited as the sky darkened.
My grandmother made a spirit plate, a traditional way to include those who have died in a celebration. A little bit from each dish was placed on a plate and put on the porch.
When the Moon covered the Sun, a thumping noise began outside the door. My grandmother exclaimed that it was the spirits.
When the sky reached its full darkness, we stepped outside onto the porch. The birds chirped and a car alarm went off in the distance but otherwise quiet filled the air.
“I can feel the energy of the Earth,” said my grandmother, and she gave me a hug. “I’m so glad we got to experience that together,” she told me.
Brandon Levi:
As the day of the eclipse had arrived, I woke up with a feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Since we were in the path of totality, the eclipse was approaching, and everyone waiting patiently for this once in a lifetime experience.
That anxious feeling began to change more into excitement, as I waited to witness the world around me soon darken, but for only a few minutes.
Every 10 minutes I kept walking outside with my glasses in hand to look up at the partial eclipse. Our neighbours next door soon made it outside as well.
As totality was creeping closer, I noticed the sound of kids and families standing like we all were in our yards, driveways, and porches as we prepared to see the Sun and Moon align with one another.
My Mom and I were sitting on our steps and desperately waiting for totality. Talking to our neighbours made the time go by faster.
As the time quickly arrived, we noticed the sky colour of baby blue change into a rich navy blue. Then as we were looking at the Sun with our glasses on, we saw the Moon begin to cover the entirety of the Sun and all we could stare at was the perfect silhouette of a circle that was the Sun peeking from behind the Moon.
As we took our glasses off to look at totality at its peak, I couldn’t help but notice the sound of excitement from children and adults from our neighbourhood. The temperature around us started dropping as the Sun was becoming covered by the Moon. One thing I couldn’t help but think is how much of a special moment we are all witnessing right now together as a community.
As the eclipse was coming to end, the temperature soon started to rise again and the darkness we were all engulfed in soon started to fade into what became a beautiful spring day.
Dusty Levi:
I was at my home in Elsipogtog, waiting for the eclipse to start, periodically checking with my daughter’s solar glasses, which I stole from her (she found some other ones). It was around 3:35 p.m. when I noticed a small glimpse of the Moon on the Sun.
The temperature was super nice I would say it was around 10-15 C and the wind was minimal.
At 4:00 p.m., the Moon was only about a quarter of the way started and temperatures and wind was above from earlier and my dog was being a little weird, but other then that no change.
At 4:11 p.m., halfway though the eclipse, it was starting to get colder and the wind began to pick up.
By 4:22 p.m. we had almost reached total eclipse. It was definitely colder and windier and the sky was becoming darker, not like at dawn but more like a scene from a Mexican movie or a scene from the movie “Traffic” if that paints a picture. The world was grey.
By 4:30 p.m., my pup was still weird but that’s normal but birds were starting to become busy. We needed to put on sweaters due to the chill and wind. Usually the rez dogs would be barking across the road but seems to be no rez dog in sight and super quiet.
At 4:32 p.m., the eclipse was 95 per cent, solar outdoor lights were starting to turn on it looked like dawn.
At 4:36 p.m., it was 100 per cent total eclipse, streetlights were starting to turn on, stars were out, not complete darkness but it was fair. It looked like dusk. Birds were very active at this point, the neighbors kids were starting to show their excitement, my pup looked a little lost about how quickly the darkness rolled in. Pretty sure I heard a gunshot and the people at the store were acting up a little.
I interviewed my 10-year-old daughter Charlotte and I asked her how she enjoyed her first ever eclipse. Her reply?
“It was very cool, and it looked like an eyeball and a light bulb.”
Chenille Augustine, Manny Simon, Sandy Francis, Lisha Francis, Lance Francis, Anna-Leah Simon, Brandon Levi, Dusty Levi are students in St. Thomas University’s Aotiitj program in Elsipogtog.
