It doesn’t seem too terribly long along in my memory. If I weigh it by the events in my life since- then yes, a zillion light years have passed. But in my head I was a mature 6-year old enjoying living the easy life, playing with my doll collections and adoring the company of a doting Mom and Grandparents.

I remember my Mother having a dinner conversation one Sunday with my Sister and I (My Sister was 9) about Mt. St. Helens. She told us that this eruption was a really big deal and something that will make history right here in our lifetimes. I tried to wrap my little 6-year old brain around that concept.

I’d hear Mom on the phone with Grandma talking about the “big one”- will Seattle get hit? “Where do they predict the ash and mud flow to land?” It was background noise, but sinking in that something big with this volcano was about to happen. At the time, we lived in Bellingham, a smaller city in northern, WA near the Canadian border, but my dear Grandparents lived in Seattle. They were supposed to be safe, but there were many theories of what could happen. We were pretty far away from the blast area.

The mountain had been bulging and spitting for a month or more. Smaller eruptions had us captivated on a weekly basis- was this it? Was this it? Since we didn’t have a TV and no one had heard of the internet, we turned in every place in public possible- the radio, passing newspaper stands, in department stores and restaurants.

I remember the telecasts about the event- watching reporters on the flanks of the spitting mountain with old school microphones talking about how the whole area where they stood would be under thick ash and mud within days. Looking at the beautiful, snow-dotted volcano with a sparkling blue lake below- it was hard to imagine.

Harry Truman was a big deal to follow. He was an 83 year old, stubborn character who ran The Lodge at Mt. St. Helens which sat right on Spirit Lake. Despite mandatory evacuation orders, he simply refused to leave- claiming he would die if he LEFT his home. He’d lived peacefully with the mountain for 53 years and even scattered his wife’s ashes on the hilltops nearby. He was a nightly subject on TV and we all were worried, fascinated and in awe of his decision to stay. At 6 years old, I can remember being really concerned for him, but especially...his 6 cats.

It was Sunday morning on May 18th. Mom had to pick up a few things at a local grocer, so she packed us kids up and we headed in to a store called Fred Meyer. I happened to be walking alone by the televisions when I saw what froze me in my tracks. People had gathered and were watching what was the beginning of the mountains big eruption. It was quite a sight. I ran to find my Mom and Sister and remember telling them “it’s happening!!” We all stood in front of the TV department hoping that no one was left in the blast zone.

Harry Truman, his lodge and his 6 cats are now buried under 150 feet of mud and ash under a creepy, but properly named Spirit Lake. 57 people and thousands of animals died that day and still, 30 years later the area looks like the moon. There have been several sputters and spits since and the volcano is still considered active.

Happy 30th anniversary, St. Helens.