Mt St Helens…remembering a volcano~

I’m a little late for this post, but I just couldn’t miss talking about our very own Washingtonian volcano: Mt St Helens. It’s been 28 years since it’s big blast on May 18, 1980. I was only 9 and a half years old when it blew, but I remember it very clearly. It was a very monolithic event in our community. No one had any inkling what to do to recover after such a thing. We were feet under in ash, and everything just stood still for at least 2 weeks. My own brother was burnt on his back from trying to collect some of the extremely acidic ash falling from the sky, early that first morning. It looked like everything was covered in a blanket of dirty gray snow! Finally, people started venturing out wearing big rubber boots, gloves, and air masks to start cleaning up the streets by hand. It was like a huge street party, all over town…everyone was shoveling ash into their wheel barrows to be taken to the edge of town. This ash became hills, that eventually grew grass, plants, and even trees, so that no one would know to look at it now, what is hiding underneath.

It’s good to see the regrowth in the time that has past. Click on the picture to see very many more pictures by the USGS/Cascades Volcano Observatory, Vancouver, Washington that show details of the explosions, and also great shots of how the mountain, and surrounding area is recovering. Even furry critters are feeling like they are welcomed back home. 🙂


PS: I’ll be posting a pattern by Sunday! My little Memorial Day weekend gifty to you. 🙂

About gettinitpegged

Whipping up whimsy with looms & string! :)
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2 Responses to Mt St Helens…remembering a volcano~

  1. Jenny says:

    Wow, a volcano. I’ve never even been near one. Isn’t it neat how the Earth rebuilds itself? By the way, we are pretty close in age. Mt St Helen’s big eruption was four days after my 6th birthday ;D

  2. maggie says:

    I remember that time, I lived near by in Oregon. My kitten had burned paws from the ash. The paint job on my grandfather’s car was ruined. I was 11. I’ll never forget that Plume. I always remember Mr. Truman on the news. Old Man on the mountain with no desire to be any where else. Months later a friend from New York sent my one of those tiny glass bottles of ash. I told him to go to Washington and he could still see Valley’s filled with the stuff.

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