Mount St. Helens eruption still a vivid memory years later

Carolyn Driedger remembered May 18, 1980, as a rare, crystal-clear spring day in the Pacific Northwest.

Driedger had just arrived the day before at Mount St. Helens, about 50 miles northwest of Portland, Ore., to study the effect of elevated volcanic activity on the summit glaciers. She was staying nearby in Vancouver, Wash., because of the high risk the 50,000-year-old mountain would erupt.

Two months earlier, March 15 marked the beginning of a series of small earthquakes near Mount St. Helens. Later in the month, steam from heated groundwater began to emerge from the summit, and shortly after, a crater began to form high on the summit.

Through April and early May, more and more earthquakes occurred, and for the first time since the mid-1800s, the volcano came alive. By mid-May, a noticeable bulge was forming on the north side of the mountain, and soon many people were asked to leave the area. Those who stayed included Harry Truman, long-time caretaker of the Spirit Lake lodge north of the mountain, and geologists like David Johnston.

After staying the night in Vancouver, Driedger and a colleague had a perfect view of the mountain as they headed toward it shortly after 8:30 a.m. Suddenly, a dark cloud began to rise from the mountain — obviously out of the ordinary on that clear morning.
Two mintues later, a massive cloud of ash emerged from the far north side of the volcano.

"This was a completely different type of eruption than what we had seen, and we were confused," Driedger said.

They quickly found the next freeway exit, got to a phone and called the U.S. Geological Service headquarters in Vancouver.

As the north face of the mountain slid away in what was one of the largest landslides in recorded history, Johnston had just moments to send a radio message back to base.

"Vancouver, Vancouver, this is it!" Johnston screamed over the airwaves, just before he was overtaken by rock and ash. His body was never found.

With orders to return to Vancouver, Driedger and her coworker quickly headed back.

"We knew then it was a volcanic eruption on a scale we had never seen before," Driedger said. "It was awe-inspiring."

Driedger said that even with confirmation of what had happened, there was still plenty of confusion, including questions about what the eruption was producing, such as debris, lava and ash.
"We were awed by what we saw," Driedger said. "I mean, here are these billowing clouds going to the north, and our first fear was for our colleagues.

"We knew while this was a fascinating event, we also realized that people were losing their lives, and it sort of took the fun out of covering it," Driedger said. "To know some people were killed, it took the wind out of our sails, but there was nothing to do but move on."

And move on they did. They returned to Vancouver and began to answer the dozens of calls that were coming in from confused people and the press. The phones rang off the hook for the next four days.

Meanwhile, a massive cloud of ash blossomed over the Pacific Northwest. The cloud reached Yakima in mid-Washington in a little more than an hour and began to dump up to 5 inches of ash. By mid afternoon, the ash had reached Missoula, and by the following morning, ash was falling in Denver, Colo. During the first nine hours after the eruption, more than 540 million tons of ash fell over 22,000 square miles, thanks in part to stiff high-altitude winds.

Fifty-seven people died in the eruption that caused more than $1.1 billon in damage.

Thirty years later, the events of that day haven't left Driedger's mind.

"Mount St. Helens changed my life," she said. "I think it changed a lot of people."

Since 1980, Driedger has continued to study the effects of volcanoes on mountaintop glaciers and has spent most of her time studying Mount St. Helens and other volcanoes in the region such as Mounts Hood and Rainier. She said much of her job is informing residents about the dangers of living next to these "living" mountains.

"These volcanoes are guardians of so many communities in the Northwest, and people feel a personal connection with them," Driedger said. "People can continue to be close; they just need to be prepared … once they are, they can continue to enjoy living in the shadow of them."

Much awareness comes from education, according Jeanne Bennett of the Mount St. Helens Institute, a nonprofit organization formed in 1996.

According to Bennett, what brought so much interest to the mountain was the huge scale of the eruption. Bennett called it a once-in-a-lifetime event, and although much of the surrounding area — now preserved as the Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument — was destroyed in the blast, it is still worthy of attention.

"It's just an amazing place now, and that is something we want people to see," Bennett said, adding that part of the beauty now is to see how the surrounding area has recovered as plants and animals return to the area.

To realize this, Bennett said you can't visit just once.

"We want people to realize that it is constantly changing, and you can't see that in one day," Bennett said.

Another thing she wants people to realize is that the mountain is still active and could erupt again, although it's unlikely now because the mountain is estimated to see a major eruption every 124 years.

"I wouldn't say it could (erupt), I would say it will, just not tomorrow," she said.

With the 30th anniversary approaching, events will be taking place to commemorate the eruption. For more information visit the Mount St. Helens Institute at http://www.mshinstitute.org or the Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument at http://www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/mshnvm/