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It was 30 years ago today that Mount St. Helens 'sploded.
I was ten years old. As best as I recall, my mom was giving me a haircut while I was watching the Mariners-White Sox game from Comiskey Park on channel 11. The game was suddenly interrupted by breaking news of the eruption, with footage of ash-darkened skies and flooding rivers and thousands of fallen trees. It wasn't scary so much as freaky -- the kind of event where you just can't pull away from the nonstop TV coverage.
At home in Kent, we were about 100 miles upwind from the carnage, though in the following days there did seem to be a faint dusting of ash on our rhododendrons. I devoured the ensuing cover stories in
Time and
National Geographic, though I managed to resist
St. Helens, the quickie exploitation disaster flick starring Art Carney.
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For more on Mount St. Helens, I'll throw it over to
Wikipedia.
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Labels: Happy Birthday, Movies