Where Were You When…

If you’re a native Washingtonian, and you’ve been around a while, you probably know what May 18th means.

It’s the anniversary of the eruption of Mt. St. Helens. Since today is the 30th anniversary of the eruption of Mt. St. Helens, I thought I’d go out on a limb and date myself by telling you what I was doing on May 18, 1980.

We did and studying was put on the back burner. The emergency broadcasting system was activated. Fire station vehicles with loud speakers drove through the parking lots and warned students to stay inside. Breathing ash into your lungs wasn’t something any of us planned on doing. So we hunkered down and waited for the cloud to arrive. Before long the skies were black, the street lights came on, and the ash started to fall like dirty snow. Eventually you couldn’t even see the light from the streetlights. Our balcony was covered in about six inches of ash, which we collected in jars. I still have a few jars full of ash.

For the next few days we stayed inside a stifling hot apartment until we ran out of food and alcohol. We donned our masks and ventured out into a world very different from the one of a few days ago. This new world was shrouded in gray. Everything was gray. Mt. St. Helens had left her mark and saved us from finals, which we were allowed to skip.