For Gregory MacIvor, who was born and raised in Miramichi, N.B., the solar eclipse was a homecoming and a childhood dream fulfilled.
MacIvor first heard about the impending total eclipse when he was 11 years old and recalls his vow to witness the event in New Brunswick.
It was 1979, and Brandon, Man., was in the path of totality. A young MacIvor heard on the news that his hometown would get the same opportunity in 2024.
“I was worried. 2024?! I might be working on a moon base by then. I might not get a chance to see it,” he recalled.
Now 56, MacIvor is not working on a moon base, but instead, lives in Calgary.
He returned home to the city of about 17,000 for the event, which he described as a “celestial experience.”
“This will be a very magical moment for me,” he said.
“This is great. It will also promote science among the children. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for most people.”
The city expected about 15,000 people to gather at the local airport for the viewing party, complete with food vendors and music.
The event also included drumming and ceremonies because the solar eclipse plays a special role for the Indigenous communities.
“It’s the balance of the feminine and masculine energies,” said Marlena Stemm with the Gitpooeesk Women Eagles Spirit Drummers.
“It’s all about energy. People are always talking about science, science, science. But if you look around, people are feeling it.”
Junior Peter-Paul, who is originally from Elsipogtog, N.B. and now lives in P.E.I., echoed that sentiment — and said the eclipse is particularly significant for the Mi’kmaq,
“It’s going to be a reminder to every one of us, when we have the moment of darkness and when (the light) appears again, you realize how well gifted you are to be able to see the new light of the sun — the gift of light that we have,” he said.
“To be able to see in front of you what Mother Earth provides for us.”
Some eclipse chasers travelled from other provinces — including nearby Quebec and Nova Scotia — while others came from as far away as the U.K.
Paul McGraw, economic development officer for the city, said parking registration for the airport viewing was “through the roof.”
“At this time last week, we were half full. By Friday, we were sold out,” he said.
The city initially only had room for 1,500 vehicles, and about four motor coaches.
At around noon Monday, McGraw said they had opened up another parking area to raise capacity to 3,000 vehicles, which could represent 12,000 to 15,000 people.
“Anytime you have an event such as this, the economic impact doesn’t come directly to the city. It’s all indirect. And this is why we do things, is to support the businesses that are within the city,” he said.
“We know of three hotels, I believe, that are sold out over the weekend. The restaurants are full … It is a windfall for them, and particularly this year for the hotels because due to the lack of snow, they never got full advantage of their normal snowmobile traffic that they’ve had in the wintertime.”
TJ Hansen, who has lived his whole life in Miramichi, admitted the town doesn’t often see such large crowds.
He was also unprepared for the attention his t-shirt would garner.
Hansen was proudly donning a homemade shirt, made by his girlfriend, Brenda, proclaiming “I blacked out in Miramichi April 8th, 2024.”
“I’m not that popular (normally),” he joked.
“I’m hoping everyone has fun and plays safe.”
Maximum totality reached the site at 4:33 p.m. Atlantic time, and for two minutes and 12 seconds, Miramichi was plunged into darkness.
Cheers erupted at the moment of totality, as exclamations of “Oh my God!” and “That is so crazy” filled the air.
Kathy Walker, armed with a telescope and a solar filter, travelled to the site from Kentville, N.S., because, “I may not be around for the next one.”
“It’s the first one in my life. Probably the last one of my life,” said Walker, who was among those watching in awe.
“I’ll be 90, so I mean maybe I will, but I might not be in any shape to travel.”
— with files from Global News’ Suzanne Lapointe
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