Heaven Can't Wait

On a Good Friday long ago, a curious boy was determined to witness Gods mysterious ways in all their forms

- Joe Rao

EVERY SO OFTEN, the celestial wanderings of the sun, earth, and moon will cause our nearest neighbor in space to become completely immersed in the earth’s shadow, in turn producing one of nature’s most beautiful sky shows: a total eclipse of the moon.

In my lifetime, I’ve watched the moon become “just a shadow of its former self” 18 times. But for me, the eclipse of April 12, 1968, stands out above all the others.

I was not quite 12 years old and living in the Bronx. The midpoint of the eclipse was to occur around midnight, but since it was a Friday night I had no worries about homework or going to school the next day. I had received a telescope for Christmas and was so excited that I had already set it up in my backyard that afternoon. It was a perfect early spring day, with promise of a beautiful, clear night.

But there was a catch. April 12, 1968, also happened to be Good Friday, and there was no way my mother was going to let me skip church.

So I did the math. The service at St. Benedict’s Church started at 9 p.m., and the eclipse would commence at 10:10 p.m. I knew from experience that the average service in our parish lasted about 45 minutes. I had plenty of time.