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It is rare for a total solar eclipse to hit the same place twice \u2014 once every 366 years on average. In 2019, this happened in the Pacific Ocean, far west of the coast of Chile. By a stroke of luck, the next one will span a region of about 10,000 square miles that includes parts of southern Illinois, southeastern Missouri and western Kentucky.<\/p>\n
People in those areas will encounter April 8\u2019s eclipse about seven years after they were near the middle of the path of the \u201cGreat American Eclipse.\u201d<\/p>\n
For that total eclipse, which occurred on Aug. 21, 2017, Southern Illinois University sold out its football stadium in the city of Carbondale.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe had people screaming,\u201d said Bob Baer, the director of the university\u2019s astronomy observation program. \u201cBut unlike a football game, you had them all screaming for the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
The college town, with a population of nearly 22,000, was among the most popular hot spots in the Midwest for the 2017 eclipse. Now, Carbondale and its neighbors are getting ready for another day with no sun. While towns in the area averaged around two and half minutes in the darkness of totality in 2017, this time they will experience about four minutes of totality. Preparation and hype have increased, too.<\/p>\n
Mr. Baer first heard that Carbondale, five hours south of Chicago, was in the crossroads of two solar eclipses nearly a decade before the 2017 event. But the significance didn\u2019t click for him until 2014, when an astronomer from the National Solar Observatory reached out.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce I understood, I about fell out my chair,\u201d Mr. Baer said, though he struggled to convince anyone else. \u201cWhen I started talking to people about the eclipse, their eyes would gloss over. I\u2019d lose them in the first 20 seconds.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
That started to change as August 2017 got closer. Carbondale, which planned for that eclipse for three years, welcomed around 14,000 people. Clouds obstructed much of the view that day, but the communal experience struck people nonetheless. Excitement from that event continues to reverberate seven years later.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe vibe is still pretty electric here,\u201d Mr. Baer said. \u201cA lot of anticipation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Not everyone was as prepared as Carbondale was in 2017. Seventy miles away, city officials in Paducah, Ky., were surprised by the number of visitors they got.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe had no idea what to expect,\u201d said Angela Schade, a downtown development specialist in Paducah\u2019s planning department. She remembers locals renting out their yards to campers in an attempt to make room for everyone coming for the eclipse. Ms. Schade watched the spectacle from the parking lot at work but didn\u2019t fully comprehend what she was experiencing.<\/p>\n
This year, Paducah is organizing a street fair where educators will teach people about the science of eclipses. The National Quilt Museum \u2014 Paducah\u2019s claim to fame \u2014 will host an exhibition featuring the work of Karen Nyberg, a retired NASA astronaut who makes space-themed quilts.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
Ms. Schade is also making sure that Paducah\u2019s streetlights don\u2019t automatically switch on when the sun vanishes.<\/p>\n
Paducah was not the only town in the crossroads to be overwhelmed in 2017. In Makanda, Ill., a village with a population of fewer than 600, a wave of 12,000 people turned out to see the eclipse.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe had all hands on deck,\u201d said Debbie Dunn, a festival event coordinator there. The town, which sat smack in the middle of the eclipse path, experienced the longest duration of totality. One artist painted a neon orange line across town \u2014 and through his own studio \u2014 to mark the centerline of the moon\u2019s shadow.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
Makanda will not be the site of longest totality again in April \u2014 that will be near Torre\u00f3n, Mexico. But according to Ms. Dunn, interest in the eclipse seems higher than it was in 2017.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll our neighboring communities have got all these things planned,\u201d she said, adding that last time Carbondale was the only place in southern Illinois that did anything big.<\/p>\n
Events aren\u2019t limited to the day of the eclipse \u2014 communities are planning festivities for the weekend before and the evening after totality. Part of this is strategic: Makanda is hosting a dance on the night of April 8, for example, in the hopes of mitigating the kind of post-eclipse traffic jams that paralyzed the town in 2017.<\/p>\n
Pat Hunt, who runs Apple Creek Vineyard & Winery with her family in Friedheim, Mo., is organizing a weekend of live music and food.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
Ms. Hunt described the experience at her vineyard in 2017 as chaotic, mainly because no one knew how many people would show up. \u201cWe just had some nightmares the first time around,\u201d she said. \u201cWe weren\u2019t as prepared as we needed to be.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time, they are selling tickets to control the arrival of visitors and adding 10 employees to help on eclipse day, many focused on traffic and parking.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
College towns seemed to be better prepared in 2017. \u201cWe were not caught off guard,\u201d said Bruce Skinner, the chair of the eclipse committee at Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau. In 2017, the event coincided with the first day of classes, so the university rolled it into the orientation activities.<\/p>\n
On April 8, classes will be canceled for a schoolwide block party. Many students will assist NASA-funded research projects.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
After that, it won\u2019t be until 2045 that a total solar eclipse comes anywhere near this region lucky enough to see two in seven years.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor many of the people that are going to see it, it is a once-in-a-lifetime event,\u201d Dr. Skinner said. But for those caught in the crossroads, \u201cit\u2019s going to be a twice-in-a-lifetime thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n