Total eclipse made lifelong imprint on AU professor

The date was March 7, 1970. Robert Fries knows it as assuredly as his birth date.

Fries (pronounced freeze) was a 33-year-old licensed pilot at the time, living in Philadelphia. On that long-awaited morning, he received a weather forecast for the Philadelphia area and for the Outer Banks of North Carolina. As he had planned for many months, he rented a Cessna 172, a single-engine, 4-seat aircraft, and flew for the first time to a small regional airport in Edenton, North Carolina, on the northern coast of the Albemarle Sound.

The easternmost rim of North Carolina was among the few places in the United States that offered a view of a total solar eclipse. A view from the Edenton Airport, Fries figured, would be worth the expense of the trip. He took his parents and girlfriend to share what he hoped would be a memorable experience.

It was more than that. The experience of that day continues to energize Fries 47 years later, and fuels his hope of seeing another total eclipse in less than six months.

The sky was cloudless, the weather was perfect, and the flight was smooth on that 1970 spring day. The hours at Edenton Regional Airport were unforgettable.

"As the eclipse went into totality, we could see the sunset-like glow, first in the distance and then it wrapped all around us," Fries said in between astronomy classes at Anderson University, where he has served as a faculty member for 35 years. "It looked the the horizon was on fire."

As the sky rapidly changed colors, Fries suddenly thought of others who had witnessed the phenomena, and pondered the bewilderment of those less prepared.

"I had the thought that during ancient times, anyone seeing it must have thought the surroundings were on fire, the colors were that bold," Fries said. "I had never seen anything like it before, and haven't seen anything like it since."

Within seconds, as the sunny skies turned gray and then dark blue, Fries was surrounded by an eerie sense of uncertainty.

"The street lights were on fire. Birds were roosting, reacting to that feeling of sunset. But the gray onset before and after the totality is spooky," Fries said of the 1970 event, which occurred in early afternoon.

In the three minutes and 28 seconds of total eclipse, brilliant colors soaked the senses.

"The sky was a dark, deep blue. It was so dark at the totality that you could see planets," Fries said. "All you can see of the sun, for those few minutes, was a ring of light, a fiery doughnut. It looked like a hole in the sky, surrounded by fire."

For those few minutes when the sun was completely blocked, Fries saw the outline of the moon, "which isn't as round as you'd expect," he said, because of mountains and valleys on the lunar surface. The sky, the horizon, and his immediate surroundings seemed to battle for his attention.

"On the ground, it turned red around the horizon," he remembered.

Within seconds, temperatures fell from the mid-60s into the high 40s.

"You can feel the air temperature drop in a matter of seconds. Scientists have measured a 15-degree drop during a total eclipse," Fries said. "That adds to the creepy factor — going gray and going cool."

When the total eclipse gave way to a partial eclipse and eventually to a normal afternoon, Fries and his group boarded the Cessna, circled the historic beach at nearby Kitty Hawk a few times, and returned to Philadelphia.

He's been talking about it ever since.

"I was hooked on solar eclipse that day," said Fries, who became an astronomy professor four years later. "I've wanted to see more ever since."

Fries has traveled often to see partial eclipse events, but has never been able to re-live the 1970 event. In July 1991 he went to Hawaii, the only part of the U.S. in the path of a total eclipse, but it was no match for the Edenton setting.

"It was disappointing. We went to the spot we thought would be the best view, but it was cloudy," he said. "It turned out that if had stayed at the hotel, would have seen it better. We experienced the darkness, but on a cloudy day, you can't see the details as well."

For five decades, he's wished others could share the experience.

"It occurs less than once in a lifetime," he said. "If a total eclipse in your area and you're under a desk, you're wasting a wonderful experience, one you likely will never get the chance to see again."

The next chance arrives on the afternoon of August 21, when Fries hopes to view a total eclipse — Anderson's first in more than 200 years — without leaving town. The path of totality will cross Anderson County early that afternoon, and Fries will lead the Blackout at Green Pond viewing party scheduled to begin at noon. A countywide event was part of his dream months ago.

"It's apparent that he's passionate about it,"  Anderson County Parks, Recreation and Tourism Director Glenn Brill said Thursday of Fries, who is also scheduled to provide a preview discussion about the event Aug. 15 at the Anderson County Museum.

"He's definitely into astronomy, and he wants others to know about the eclipse," Brill said. "He met with our staff months ago, and he's already met with the law enforcement officials to tell them what to expect."

Follow Abe Hardesty at Twitter@abe_hardesty.