I remember it well. I was 9 years old at the time and grandpa and I were outside waiting for grandma and everyone else to get ready for church. I heard a faint “Boom” and then the news broke in confirming that the mountain had blown. I remember thinking that Harry Truman, the man that refused to leave his Spirit Lake cabin despite the inevitability of the eruption, was dead. I admired the old man’s resolve and orneriness even though it guaranteed his death and I remember saying a quick prayer for him and the others near ground zero. The winds took the majority of the ash in the opposite direction from our location so we were in no immediate danger but it sure was something spectacular to a 9 year old. By the weeks end (maybe sooner) we had a light dusting of ash on our cars but nothing like those to the southeast of us suffered. Jars of volcanic ash became the currency with which young boys used to barter and trade for baseball cards and bubblegum.
A couple months later my grandparents and I took off for our annual 2-3 week summer vacation. Driving through the area of the Toutle River I was in awe of the raw destruction and ugliness that was wrought on such a beautiful area. The years that followed and continue to follow have given science a glimpse at how fast Mother Nature can repair itself. It’s shown how resilient Mother Nature is and how adaptable the flora and fauna are in the face of such total and complete destruction.
