A Crack in Time: Hallowe'en The last night of October was traditionally celebrated as the eve of Winter by the ancient Celts - and the beginning of their New Year. In ancient Ireland a new and sacred fire was kindled on this night, from which all the fires of Ireland would be lit. The Celts believed this date a crack in time, when the dead could revisit the living. Astronomically, we are midway between the Autumnal Equinox and the Winter Solstice, the year's quarter days. The Sun is now rising half-way down on the southeastern horizon towards the point at which it will rise in the dead of Winter. It is a cross-quarter day, and one of peculiar significance. This was the ancient pagan Feast of the Dead, when all sorts of things went bump (and sometimes more) in the night. As in the case with most of these old pagan holidays however, the Church came along and Christianized it all by naming 1 November the Feast of All Saints (All Hallows), and 2 November as the Feast of All Souls. And if it wasn't already, All Hallows Eve, Hallowe'en, became regarded as unlucky and uncanny, because it was associated with paganism. Thus, during the middle ages, mumming became popular (an act or mime where the players wear disguises) and the poor went begging for sweet soul-cakes which would be given as payment for prayers they promised to say for the dead. Children went from door to door, chanting: Soul, Soul, for a souling cake, I pray, good missus, a souling cake. Apple or pear, plum or cherry, Anything good to make us merry. The alternative, I suppose, was to make them mad. It isn't too hard to see where the current "Trick or Treat" originated, or to note that the prayers have been forgotten altogether. In England and the USA, impersonation of the supernatural, the dead, or the just plain spooky has long been a tradition. (That's OK, but this ballerina, tramp, and princess business, has to go.) We've retained the fire tradition, lit to ward off evil spirits, in country bonfires or front porch jack-o-lanterns.* But just when, or how, or why the astronomical significance of this date was lost, is hard to say. Hardly anyone remembers anything about it at all . *The jack-o-lantern may have had various origins, and in the past I have dealt with some of them, but recently I found evidence of another possible origin: in Punky Night. A punky, from 'pumpkin' or 'punk' (tinder) is a lantern made by hollowing out a pumpkin or turnip, and placing a candle inside. The villagers of Hinton St George in England insist that "long ago" their menfolk went to the annual Chiselborough Fair and got too drunk on cider to find their way home. The village women-folk made punkies, set off in the night to find them, and eventually dragged them home. Scrambled Time: Back during WW1, the government decided that to keep the home front productive, and to save on fuel, clocks would be set back 1 hour in the Fall, and ahead 1 hour in the Spring. Thus began what was called for years War Time, or, to the irreverent: Scrambled or Wildcat Time. Well, it's that time again. At 2 a.m., Sunday October 30, if your state or community concurs, you are ordered to set your clock back by one hour. If you want to know more about all this, please don't call us, call the Department of Transportation. That's right. It's the DOT that's responsible for all this, not us. This harks back to the old railroad days, when it was the old train station clock that pretty much was the timekeeper to the general populace. Although the U.S. Naval Observatory has always been in the business of maintaining the nation's Master Clock, and determining what the time is, it's only after we're told twice a year by DOT (and Congress' Standard Time Act) where to point the hands. The U.S. Naval Observatory offered its first time service to the public in 1845. This was right after Superintendent Matthew Fontaine Maury received a letter from the Secretary of the Navy which said: "Dear Sir, You will be pleased to devise some signal by which the mean time may be made known every day to the inhabitants of the city..." Thus pleased, Maury immediately ordered 4 vulcanized rubber balls from Charles Goodyear (they make other things now) and at 10 minutes before noon every day but Sunday, a ball was hoisted up a flagstaff atop the Observatory's telescope dome. The pulley was connected with an electro-magnetic battery to the Observatory's clock room, and the circuit was broken by an astronomer at precisely noon. The accuracy was better than 1 second, sufficient for all practical purposes. It constituted the nation's first public time service. Ships in the Potomac could easily determine the error of their chronometers by comparing the clock to the signal ball.** In 1865, daily time signals were sent by telegraph to Western Union and other users. In 1904, a U.S. Navy station began broadcasting the first worldwide radio time signals which were based on a clock provided and controlled by the Naval Observatory. Today, the Naval Observatory continues to provide the most precise time available. U.S. Naval Observatory time (to within billionths of seconds) is available via orbiting satellites, electronic navigation systems, direct computer access, and telephone voice announcements. For the correct time, call the Master at the Naval Observatory: 202/653-1800 or 910/410-TIME (50cents for first minute is charged by AT&T for 900 numbers) **In an era when precise timekeeping was needed by an ever-increasing "railroad world", most local communities were keeping their own "local time" based on the Sun and competing local jewelers or watchmakers, the local schools, or the local observatory (if there was one). This played havoc with railroad time schedules, when a traveller going from coast to coast might have to change his watch 20 times! In 1849, most major railroad companies adopted astronomical time as the standard, but precise synchronization of clocks and watches remained lax. This could have horrendous implications, as in 1853, when one more of a series of fatal train wrecks occurred. Once again, the faulty watch of the conductor was blamed when 2 trains collided head on, on a single track, on a blind curve. The New York Times newspaper headlined: "Our columns groan again {with a story of} wholesale slaughter." Precise timekeeping would fast become a practical public service, thanks in part to the railroad industry. BY: Gail S. Cleere 202/653-1541 NAVOBSY WASH This news release may be reproduced, with credit please, to the U.S. Naval Observatory.