"Best Effing Small Town” to Watch the Eclipse
By Beyond the Clock hosts, Ash Hanson & Anna Claussen
On Monday, April 8th, 2024 (Eclipse Day!) we landed in the Chicago airport, picked up a rental car, and raced against the clock to drive 3.5 hours south to the town of Effingham, IL (aka “The Crossroads of America''). There was something special about joining thousands of other intrepid travelers making their way to the path of totality for a cosmic event that will not happen again in North America for a couple of decades. We were uncertain what the day would hold, as we had read a number of articles (like this one from the Washington Post), that tried to convince readers that all we would find is bumper-to-bumper traffic and no public bathrooms. What we found instead was a serene drive through small, rural Illinois communities, where town welcome signs boasted “home to the state champions” of a variety of sporting events and slogans like “Take Time to Care.” No traffic and plenty of places to pee.
Our destination was Tuscan Hills Winery nestled in the Silicon Prairie (a term we learned from the locals referring to the tech boom in the region), which was hosting an eclipse watch party. Though we had been warned about exorbitant uncharges at events like this, the parking was free in the nearly full field-turned-parking lot, and our parking attendant (husband to the winery’s general manager) greeted us with a clever, “Get ready for the most exciting 42 seconds of your life!” We walked up to the winery lawn where approximately 500 locals and visitors alike had set up their lawn chairs and stretched out their picnic blankets, sipping their wine and occasionally donning their eclipse safety glasses to catch a glimpse of the smirking sun, preparing for the upcoming “main event” moment in the sky. Looking around, it was clear that this was going to be a very good income generating day for this small town winery, but that did not seem to be at the center of the experience (note: the free parking, free admission, and no inventory up-charge). We reflected on the democratic nature of the “path of totality” and how joyful refreshing it is to see small towns across the country get to celebrate their “off the beaten path” locale for these serendipitous events.
We picked up a bottle of (quite delicious!) wine, chuckling at the clever catch phrase “Best Effing Winery,” and nestled in amongst the anticipating crowd. We got to chatting with the family next to us, a woman with her one-year old son who had taken a day off from teaching to make the pilgrimage to Effingham with her brother. They talked about their excitement to witness the eclipse and talked around their excitement to have an excuse to just spend the day together. In fact, many of the folks we conversed with that day shared that they had taken the day off from work and/or traveled many miles to meet up with friends and family for a “most exciting 42 seconds.” We questioned what other kinds of natural events would entice people to stop the daily grind, call up their brother/sister/friend and say, “hey, wanna play hooky and go stare at the sky together?” We came up short on our list of other occurrences, but wondered why it couldn’t be more… Do we really have to wait another 20 years for an excuse to do just that?
As the “main event” drew near, the local musician, who had been playing cover songs with lyrics that included the sun and/or the moon, stopped playing his guitar and put on a recording of the song “King of Pain” by The Police (“There’s a little black spot on the sun today…”) on repeat while we all looked up and waited. The moon made its way in front of the sun and the audience began clapping, howling, and cheering at the sky! As the eclipse reached its totality, silent awe and collective reverence fell over the crowd and our funny, flimsy glasses fell from our faces as we all did the thing that we have been told never to do… stare at the sun. The birds stopped chirping, the temperature dropped, and the one-year old next to us began to cry. It was an eerily profound and truly beautiful experience.
As soon as the moment of totality ended, something even stranger happened… the majority of the crowd immediately picked up their lawn chairs and picnic blankets and raced to their cars! Seeming to either want to beat the (very minimal) traffic and/or get back to work. We didn’t know which, but the energy drastically shifted. We wanted to yell, “Wait! Where are you all going, new friends? We just experienced magic together! Why are you running away?” Which led us into another deep spiral of conversation around the art of anticipation, journeys vs. destinations, and American culture of grab-and-go experiences, while we lolled about on the grass with our wine and the few other hangers-on that wanted to soak in the return of the sun and savor the experience.
It was then that we noticed Wanda, the owner of Tuscan Hills Winery (which the locals referred to “Wanda’s Clubhouse”), a vivacious woman that everyone wanted to talk with… us included. We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon with Wanda, meeting her children and granddaughter, her Pastor, her friends of decades who humorously suggested we stay in their extra bedroom so we could take in more of the community. We absorbed her lively stories about a rich childhood (in what some would call “rural poverty”), her move to Effingham from Ontario (for love!), her desire for a place to gather with friends and neighbors, her absolute love of good wine, her sincere gratitude to her devoted staff, and her determined vision for creating Tuscan Hills. She talked about having a diverse menu to meet the needs of the community (“Not everybody is gonna like wine no matter how many free tastings you give ‘em!”) and how she sees her role as a behind the scenes connector (“When you start from nothing, and create something, you understand everything…You know how to meet people where they are at.”).
After our fully present, inspiring, and insightful afternoon with the sun, the moon, Wanda and her winery, we spent the next 24 hours in the region with our saturated remote workload schedules at odds with our true desire to be present with this place and its people. We felt the irony. We longed, in vain, to return to those precious, fully present moments leading up to, and following, the eclipse. To revisit the 42 spectacular seconds we shared with 500 new friends and neighbors.
Headlines informed us that the solar eclipse would cost America an estimated $700 million in lost productivity and our social media feed translated this message: our economic system is designed to ensure there is little to no time to appreciate the world around us. But, on an afternoon in Effingham, Illinois, we witnessed Americans pausing, visiting a small town community for the first time, or experiencing their place anew, as we gathered in reverence together. In our estimation, the crowd gathered at the Tuscan Hills Winery found “the best effing small town” to watch the eclipse. And, we were reminded, yet again, no matter where you are, if you pause the rush of life to be present (and stick around a little while after the “main event!”), you’ll likely find a recurring display of cosmic magic with the people that call that place home… no eclipse safety glasses needed!
Photo credit: Ash Hanson & Anna Claussen