Reflections from the Path of Totality

The phases of a total solar eclipse are often referred to using technical terms among astronomers and eclipse enthusiasts to describe the specific turns in the experience. It all begins with “First Contact” or “First Contact of the Penumbra,” which marks the beginning of the partial phase of the eclipse when the leading edge of the Moon first makes contact with the Sun’s edge.

Today, as I stood in Broderick Park in Buffalo, NY, gazing up at the celestial spectacle of the Great American Eclipse, I couldn’t help but reflect on all I’d heard and seen.

Yesterday, I visited the Underground Railroad Heritage Center in Niagara Falls, where I listened deeply to a story that, despite my familiarity with its basic contours, revealed new dimensions to me. Growing up in Virginia, the narrative of the Underground Railroad was framed differently, emphasizing other chapters of the struggle for freedom. But here, Harriet Tubman’s face is all over the city, beckoning, urging casual passers-by to stop and think about the road they’re on and where they’re headed.

If I always heard the Railroad story told where all the energy was in simply achieving “escape velocity.” It was always clear to me why people would want to go. As a reminder of this, my hometown had a large auction rock embedded in the sidewalk on the corner of William and Charles Streets, a testament to the trade in Black bodies that was a community lifestyle as old as the Commonwealth. It was finally moved to a museum in 2020.

If I always heard the Railroad story told where all the energy was in simply achieving “escape velocity.” It was always clear to me why people would want to go. As a reminder of this, my hometown had a large auction rock embedded in the sidewalk on the corner of William and Charles Streets, a testament to the trade in Black bodies that was a community lifestyle as old as the Commonwealth. It was finally moved to a museum in 2020.

To end the story there, though, is like telling the story of the Exodus from Egypt without the Wandering in the Wilderness. Buffalo is the place that shows you what the end of the long and perilous journey might look, sound and feel like. Here, bridges and ferries are not just pathways to work or play, but conduits to emancipation and hope. I got to hear the longer story of the companions who walked alongside those who had to walk the long road to freedom. No wonder Harriet Tubman was also called “Moses!”

Walking through the exhibits at the Heritage Center, the words of Frederick Douglass played in my mind: “I prayed for twenty years but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.” Douglass, a towering figure in the abolitionist movement and a formerly enslaved person himself, understood the importance of integrity between words and works, of faith and action. His words resonated with me as I pondered the courage it takes for individuals to embark on perilous journeys, guided by the North Star and the faint glimmer of liberty on the horizon.

“Second Contact” is the moment when the total eclipse begins, also referred to as “Second Contact of the Umbra.” It occurs when the Moon completely covers the Sun’s disk, leading to the onset of totality.

An eclipse is the most dramatic enactment I know of the cosmic battle between darkness and light. It’s a theme older than history:

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night.

Genesis 1:3-5

It’s also a central image of our Christian story:

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.

1 John 1:5

I want to be clear; the struggle endures and absolutely no one can claim pure high ground. Buffalo still grapples with its racism. I had several conversations with local leaders and educators about this. In fact, Millard Fillmore, who signed the Fugitive Slave Act into law, is buried there. There are bright spots in my memory, too. If you haven’t read about people like William Crane, a white Baptist abolitionist in Virginia during the 19th century who helped found Richmond’s Second Baptist Church, which welcomed both black and white congregants, it’s one of many stories worth remembering.

To say “it’s complicated” is a dodge, but I want us all to find a place all around this story. It’s probably the most honest place to start any conversation like this one that still demands our attention as Americans.

By 3:18 EST, the moon obscured the sun, casting a temporary shadow over the land. I couldn’t help but reflect on all I’d been saturated in, the darkness of oppression and the light of liberation. The journey through the Underground Railroad was fraught with peril and uncertainty, but it was illuminated by a persistent flame of hope—a corona around the edges of the darkness that burns brightly enough to dare those who want out of their darkness to imagine the alternative and act like a better future’s possible.

Third Contact marks the end of totality, also called “Third Contact of the Umbra.” It occurs when the trailing edge of the Moon clears the Sun’s disk, ending the period of totality.

This is my second eclipse, and once again, I’m filled with awe. It’s a moment of transcendence, a little rebirth, as the darkness overtakes the world, but only for a while. Before long, the world was bathed once again in light. In that fleeting moment, I understood that the journey towards freedom is not a solitary one but a collective effort—a shared pilgrimage towards the freedom we all desire.

Broderick Park is nestled on the southern tip of a small island along the banks of the Niagara River. In recent years, it has been reclaimed as a symbol of the Underground Railroad’s legacy in Buffalo. Once a strategic crossing point for freedom seekers making their perilous journey across the border to Canada, the park now serves as a commemorative space, honoring the bravery and resilience of those who risked everything in pursuit of freedom. Its transformation honors those who risked everything for freedom.