When he started teaching in 1978, Patrick Moriarty passed out worksheets to his science class, showing the trajectories of upcoming eclipses. Only one was expected to pass near their hometown in Upstate New York, but watching it as a class was going to be difficult — it wouldn’t occur for nearly five decades.
“Hey, circle that one on April 8, 2024,” Moriarty recalled telling his students. “We’re going to get together on that one.”
His students laughed. Thinking that far ahead was difficult for Moriarty — let alone for his junior high students.
Still, for years, Moriarty told all of his classes to plan for a gathering that year far in the future. That promise was top of mind when, two years ago, he created a Facebook event and tried to contact his former students.
Moriarty didn’t expect them to remember, but as word spread among former classmates, hundreds expressed interest in the event.
On Monday, Moriarty fulfilled his promise when about 100 former students watched the total solar eclipse from the driveway of his Rochester, N.Y., home. But ultimately it wasn’t the eclipse that astonished Moriarty — it was his students.
“When teachers go into education, they hope that they can be that kind of teacher that would have an impact on people and make a difference for people,” Moriarty, 68, told The Washington Post. “And this event right here just firmed it up for me that I guess I did okay.”
After graduating from the State University of New York at Geneseo, Moriarty began teaching earth science as a 22-year-old at a junior high school in Webster, N.Y. He built a reputation as a tough but caring instructor.
He stayed after class to tutor students and cracked jokes when they were nervous about tests. His students said he made subjects they had not cared about — cloud formations, wind trajectories and temperature changes — interesting.
For 16 years, Moriarty told his students that he would put an advertisem*nt in their local newspaper, the Democrat and Chronicle, in 2024 with details about the gathering. His students didn’t think much of it.
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“The things that you get asked at that age is, ‘Where do you see yourself in five years or 10 years?’” said Kevin Thompson, who took Moriarty’s class in 1982. “To think 40-plus years down the road was almost impossible to comprehend.”
In 1998, Moriarty became a principal of a junior high school in Fairport, N.Y. He never forgot about the plan for the 2024 eclipse, and neither did his students. When he ran into them at local restaurants and stores, he told them they were still going to meet.
By April 2022, sharing events in newspapers wasn’t as common, so Moriarty created a Facebook event and tried to track down his roughly 1,200 former students. He hired a local pizzeria to cater the event.
Within a few months, about 100 former students told him they would attend. Moriarty kept posting updates on Facebook and bought 130 pairs of eclipse glasses.
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Moriarty began talking with students he had not seen in more than 40 years. Thompson visited Moriarty a few weeks ago and was surprised by how much shorter his former science teacher seemed — since Thompson had grown a few inches since ninth grade. He still called him Mr. Moriarty.
“This has got to be the longest homework assignment in history,” Thompson, now 56, recalled telling Moriarty.
Moriarty said he didn’t recognize some former students who came to his house Monday, but he remembered most of their names. Many had graduated from high school and college, started careers, gotten married and had children since they last spoke.
Former students traveled from across the country and brought their yearbooks for Monday’s event.
Moriarty was once again the head of the class, this time in a driveway, telling his former students how the sky would appear as if it was nighttime, the temperature would drop and the automatic lights on some homes would turn on.
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When the sky darkened, Moriarty said everyone grew quiet, and they were surprised when it suddenly became bright about four minutes later. The sky was cloudy all afternoon, so no one actually saw the moon. That wasn’t important to Moriarty and his students.
“The eclipse itself … took a back seat to what this was all about,” Moriarty said. “The eclipse was my catalyst more than anything.”
As visitors prepared to leave, Moriarty suggested they convene again in two decades, when the next total solar eclipse will occur. Everyone laughed — just like they had in 1978.
