This is a slightly updated version of a post from two years ago…because it seemed appropriate for today.
I remember the boom that Sunday morning, May 18th, 1980 – 33 years ago this week – as we were getting ready for church on Orcas Island, Washington. It was 8:32am – or however long it takes for sound to travel 300 miles. My oldest sister was off at college, my Dad was down in Oregon at work with the Air Force, and my other sister, our Mom, and I were slipping on our Sunday shoes and just about to head out the door when we heard it.
“Oh, they’re dynamiting on Buck Mountain,” Mom said dismissively.
But Jenny and I said, “No! It was Mount Saint Helens!”
“No,” Mom disagreed. “We couldn’t hear it this far away.”
“It was the mountain, Mom,” we said again. “Turn on the radio.”
Sure enough, Mount Saint Helens – which had been steaming and belching and threatening to explode for weeks – had…
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