— by Lin McNulty, Orcas Issues Editor —
We awakened that Sunday morning, May 18, 1980 in Portland. We were there celebrating our wedding anniversary and just the day before, my husband and I had been on the slopes of Mount St. Helens, camera in hand.
We entered into the Red Zone (which meant “off limits”) near Cougar, WA near the southern edge of the mountain. As we captured a few amateur photos, I spoke to the mountain, “just one little poof, I know you can do it.”
My grandfather grew up in the shelter of Mount St. Helens and many summers we had camped nearby at our annual family reunion. I recall trying to gain a foothold in the loose pumice as I played on the slopes during those days when the whole mountain was still there.
As the news outlets covered the ongoing story, before the full force of the blast was even imaginable, Harry Truman, the mountain man who would not leave his home, even though a blast was considered imminent by many, became a media star. Grandpa knew him as ornery and cantankerous, and he still owed Grandpa for some pack horses. As he wished, Harry Truman stayed on the mountain and became a lasting part of the mountain.
When we looked outside to the north that May morning from the houseboat where we had spent the night, we could see the rising ash plume and knew we had better hit the road right away for our trip north, home to Olympia. Just as we approached the Toutle River bridge on I-5, the bridge closed and we were re-routed to Hwy. 101 on the coast. It was terrifying, watching that ever-growing ash cloud rising, rising to block out the sun.
The radio station we were listening to in the car kept playing Jimmy Buffet’s song, Volcano, over and over and over because what else can you do when you’re trying to outrun a volcano.
Yes, I was in Portland on that sunny Sunday as the previous evening we had beheld the then perfect come from a party in Vancouver. By the time of the second eruption – viewed from a Beaverton cineplex waiting line, we were putting surgical masks on the carburetors of our cars. (Remember those quaint automotive devices?)
Human beings are not the alpha and omega. Mat St Helens, COVID, all reminders of interdependence.