Solar Eclipse

On a cold winter morning in 1979, I witnessed an unusual incident. For several weeks the newspaper had been announcing that Portland, Oregon, would be in the direct path of a solar eclipse. Scientists explained that the moon would pass between the earth and the sun, casting the moon’s dark shadow over Portland for approximately three minutes. On February 26th, the day of the eclipse, I went to my office as usual. But just before the solar eclipse I went out to the front porch of the seminary administration building; there on the crest of a small hill I had a marvelous view of the city sloping toward the downtown business district. Suddenly, as expected, the sky began to darken—though much more quickly than at sunset. In a few more moments, the city of Portland became as dark as night. Just as suddenly as the darkness had come, something else happened—something I had not anticipated. Thousands of street lights around the city began to blink on dispelling the darkness of the eclipse. Although the sky was as dark as on any night, everywhere I looked lights were shining.

J. K. Laney, Kindred Spirit, Spring, 1990, p. 8