On 5/18/2020 8:30 PM, Peter Klein wrote:
May 18, 1980. The day Mt. St. Helens blew up. It's one of those events that a person always remembers. I was in
Spokane, over 200 air miles across Washington state from the mountain. But it got pitch-black in mid-afternoon. We
were buried in 3/4 of an inch of volcanic ash, which is finely-powdered silica the consistency of flour. There was
quite a mess for days and weeks to come. I didn't have a good camera then, as I'd sold my Leica M2 to help pay for my
bassoon. But I do have one photo of myself taken with a rudimentary film point-and-shoot the next morning.
Today I commemorated the anniversary by photographing the jar of ash I saved
I was doing a lot of freelance writing then. The eruption gave me the opportunity to write a first-person account of
what happens when a volcano dumps on your city. If you'd like to read it, use the two links below, and view large.
Reading it today, I was struck by how similar people's behavior was then and now. Click on the photos to view large,
and the text is quite readable.
Uh-oh! "Each time he tried to light . . ." Working Bumblebees, like Honeybees,
That was fun. Thanks.
A woman who worked for me was on a plane almost over the mountain when it blew up. Those of us who knew her weren't
surprised. I'm not saying she caused the explosion, but her proximity may well have affected the timing. :-)
No Ash on Moose
What if the Hokey Pokey *IS* what it's all about?
Themed Olympus Photo Exhibition: http://www.tope.nl/