The Day the Sun Disappeared
(This
1077th Buffalo Sunday News column was
first published on November 13, 2011.)
In
September 1950, United States troops were fighting in eastern Asia. After the
initial deep penetration of South Korea by North Korean forces, United Nations
forces led by Douglas MacArthur had fought back and retaken the South Korean
capital of Seoul. Thousands of American soldiers joined this effort, slogging
up the Korean peninsula.
The
North Korean retreat raised other concerns, however. The specter of
intervention by China and Russia in the conflict, bringing with them their
atomic weapons, was frightening. Our Defense Secretary George Marshall called
our situation one of "great peril." Across the United States people
built bomb shelters and school children participated in bomb drills, hiding
under their desks.
It
was in this disturbing setting that on Sunday, September 24th an episode
occurred that played directly into those fears. At mid-afternoon thick black
clouds rolled in to cover the sky. The sun turned purple with a yellow aurora
before it disappeared entirely. These were not familiar cumulus or nimbus
clouds; rather, they had odd bulges roiling on their underside. Soon they
blotted out all light and turned the entire region into deep twilight, so dark
that streetlights and airport runway lights came on. People reported that
everything was quiet and birds were no longer singing. One observer claimed
that white houses looked as though seen through yellow cellophane.
Think
of what your own reaction might have been to that unprecedented event. Was this
an atomic cloud? Had an A-bomb been dropped in Lake Erie? Was it the beginning
of World War III? Or might this even be the first stage of the apocalypse of
the Biblical Book of Revelations?
Whatever
they thought, people were indeed frightened. This had never happened before.
One local newspaper used an appropriate metaphor in reporting that Buffalo
citizens "had the daylights scared out of them."
One
man who was a youngster at the time later reported, "My mother, who used
every unusual event as a control mechanism, told us something along the lines
that God was behind it all and we better stay inside and behave." A
13-year old was visiting a friend when the cloud appeared: "My mother
called to warn me to stay where I was because she didn't know what was going on
and didn't want me out on the street."
Thankfully,
there was a far less threatening answer to their concerns. Two thousand miles
off to our northwest hundreds of forest fires were burning in northern Alberta
and British Columbia. Smoke from those fires drifted first northeast and then
almost due south until it passed over Lake Superior. From there the path curved
east to be thickest over the cities of Hamilton, Ontario, Buffalo and
Cleveland. The clouds would continue southeast to cover cities in Pennsylvania
including Pittsburgh.
Oddly,
there was no smell of burning. The clouds were trapped between layers of
atmosphere and that easily identifiable odor did not reach the ground.
Climatologist
Dr. Stephen Vermette of Buffalo State College's
Department of Geography and Planning has written an interesting article about
this event that appeared in the Spring 2011 issue of Western New York Heritage
Magazine. This column is largely based on that essay.
Vermette and Tullis
Johnson, Archives Manager of the college's Burchfield Penney Art Center have
also arranged an exhibit titled "Weather Event", which is on display
through February 26, 2011. There will be an opening celebration for the exhibit
on Friday, November 18 from 5:30 to 7:30 p.m.
The
artist for whom the art gallery is named is Charles Burchfield. According to
the event announcement, his "representations of weather, wind, skies and
sounds are unique historical records of the environment near Lake Erie. In
1915, Burchfield made a series of sketches that show the changing weather and
position of the sun over the course of several hours, which he called all-day
sketches. Decades later, one of his 1950 journal entry recounts 'The Day the
Sun Disappeared over Western New York.' In these unique instances and others we
will experience the landscape through Burchfield's eyes. Working with
climatologist and Buffalo State College professor Stephen Vermette,
Ph.D., we present the dramatic and complex natural phenomenon chronicled in
more than 50 years of Burchfield's writings, drawings and
paintings."-- Gerry
Rising