Pam Esterly, age 10, of Allentown, Pennsylvania, for her question:
When did the public learn not to fear eclipses?
A sudden surprise gives us a jolt and often gets more attention than it deserves. On the other hand, it may force us to take a closer look at things we have taken for granted. One of the most dramatic events is a solar eclipse. If we had never heard of it, the stunning surprise would strike us with terror and fearsome panic.
Most of our cavemen ancestors never beheld the overwhelming grandeur of a total solar eclipse. It returns to the same region of the earth perhaps twice in a century. The life span of early man was short and he was not likely to be there in the right place at the right time to witness the stunning event. When it occurred, naturally he was struck with fear and the dread of unknown disaster. Nowadays we are told when to expect the dramatic event and we understand what it really is. Though it is a spooky thing to watch, we can forget fear and enjoy the breathtaking splendor of the heavenly spectacle.
As a rule, the dreadful fangs of fear are removed with knowledge. When we know what to expect, we tend to find courage to face even the worst disasters. When civilized people are stunned by unexpected events, they ask themselves why they were caught unaware. They take a deeper look into themselves. They check into causes that they overlooked. Most of all, they strive for more sensible information to help them cope with such situations in the future. This is the reaction of the modern public. And history suggests that basic human nature has changed very little since the days of our cavemen ancestors.
Mankind has been a natural born star gazer from the very beginning, and every generation has had its quota of gifted scholars. Early man was aware of the dependable daily sun, the cycles of the moon and the seasonal parade of starry constellations. And even before the dawn of history there were scholars who thoughtfully studied the heavenly parade. Man's first science was astronomy. The Chaldean Magi of Mesopotamia began charting the skies and keeping accurate records of heavenly events many, many thousands of years ago. So did early astronomers in China and India, Persia and Egypt and other ancient communities.
Seasonal changes in the sky occur in orderly cycles. Eclipses are rare events but they too occur in cycles. In 18 years and 11 days, the earth lives through an orderly average cycle of 28 lunar and 43 solar eclipses. Then the cycle shifts westward and the pattern repeats with minor changes. It was the star charting Magi of Babylon who first figured out this eclipse cycle. They called it the "saros," meaning "the repetition." The challenging job began before history, and who knows how many generations it took to solve the complications. But we have clay tablets to prove that they had mastered the saros cycle at least 3,000 years ago. Those Babylonian astronomers predicted eclipses and robbed the rare events of their shock¬ing surprise. Their knowledge spread to astronomers of Persia and Egypt, Greece and other neighboring communities. They warned the people of what to expect. And the sensible majority refused to panic when dramatic eclipses appeared in their skies.
This was 800 years or more before the start of our Christian Era. But human nature, remember, changes slowly. Every generation has a quota of people who refuse to believe warnings and a quota of those who secretly enjoy devastating disasters. A total solar eclipse still strikes fearful panic in such people. What's more, there are remote communities that have never heard of the saros eclipse cycle. These unfortunates are caught by surprise and struck with the terror that inspired the ancient Magi to get busy and solve the complicated schedule, once and for all.