Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Where Were You When Mt. Saint Helens Erupted on May 18, 1980?

Everyone in Washington, particularly in Southwest part of the state, remembers Mt. Saint Helens. As a matter of fact, although I wasn't living here at the time, my mother-in-law was and actually watched it erupt form her backyard in Ridgefield.  She always had a few dogs as pets, and that particular morning she was calling them in so she could leave for work.

Her Brittany spaniel, Ricky, and Pepe, the most gigantic red-haired shephard (but the sweetest dog I have ever met), had been barking and acting strangely.  She stayed a little longer, concerned there was some sort of wild animal on her acreage. A feisty person only about 4'10" or perhaps even shorter, she was terrified of snakes.  This kept her from walking anywhere, even on her own land, as she would only step on mowed grass.

As she gazed out over her land towards the creek that ran on the northeast side, Mt. Saint Helens erupted. Like many other eyewitnesses, she said it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. As an asthmatic, however, she, her car and her air filtration and housing systems were not quite as thrilled as the ash fell on everything. (She saved a jar of ash she collected from her backyard and gifted it to our daughter shortly after we moved here in 1992.) Luckily for Ridgefield, the plume blew east before it surrounded the globe but there are a lot of stories.  Ask any 30 year Ridgefield resident, and they'll tell you quite a tale.

Where were you when Mt. Saint Helens erupted?  Comment here or bring your story to our first meeting on May 25th.  (For info, email: ridgefieldlivinghistoryproject@gmail.com or check our Ridgefield Living History Project fan page on Facebook.)

Here is my story, first published on Gather.com, about the first time I went to the Mt. Saint Helens area:

After living an hour and a half away from an active volcano for fourteen years, I finally committed to go on a day trip to Mount Saint Helens. Lots of family and friends had visited from the East Coast and even other countries over the years, but I designated my husband as 'solo' tour guide.

Why? Because I was just positive I would be bored. I also associated sight-seeing with things like Disneyland (which I learned to despise because of the lines and the cheesy souvenirs).

Local road trips meant two things to me - restrictions on coffee and dirty bathrooms - so I was faking my enthusiasm that summer morning when we told our teenage granddaughter she was going to see a wonderland.

Ironically, she was faking her interest as well, as she likes to come up here and kick back. We all knew that her parents, however, expected her to do something meaningful while she was here other than learn how to make Swiss Enchiladas (green tomatillo sauce and chicken are her favorites). So there we were.

I dragged myself to the car bracing for the worst experience ever and suppressed my instinct as I strapped on the seat belt to whine, "Are we there yet?"

My husband was excited and had charged his camera battery the day before, and carried a back-up just in case. When we got to the first lookout point and saw the elk herd, I was impressed in spite of myself. By the time we got to the mountain itself, I was in love with this most fabulous of day trips.

Going to Mt. Saint Helens is like finding that you just drove to the moon. It is so different from what you expect and so magnificent that you feel like you are in some kind of sci-fi movie. People who go there talk about it like it is a spiritual experience, because... it is!
Every time I see anything about volcanoes, and specifically Mt. Saint Helens, I am again reminded how powerful nature is and how fragile human life can be. At our distance from the volcano we are privileged to be spectators without risk but that doesn't make the spectacle of that much power any less magnificent.

HERE'S WHAT NASA HAD TO SAY TODAY:

This following information and accompanying images are courtesy of NASA. This information was posted on their site in acknowledgement of the Mt.Saint Helen's May 18, 1980 eruption's 30 year anniversary.
In mid-March 1980, a series of small earthquakes began shaking the ground at Mt. St. Helens in southern Washington. Over the next two months, the northern flank of the mountain was deformed by a large bulge—a sign that upwelling magma was pushing up on the rock from below. On the morning of May 18, an earthquake caused the entire north flank of the volcano to collapse in a massive avalanche. Relieved of the overlying pressure, the volcano ejected a blast of rocks, ash, gas, and steam that blew down and buried several hundred square miles of forest.
This trio of false-color Landsat satellite images is part of a 30-year time series documenting the destruction and recovery at Mt. St. Helens. Vegetation is red, bare rock and volcanic debris are gray, and clear water is dark blue. (In the complete time series, images from 1984 onward are in photo-like natural color.) The 1979 view (top) shows the snow-covered summit of the perfectly shaped stratovolcano, and the mixture of protected forest (darkest red, north of the volcano), agricultural land (lighter reds), and logging clear cuts (patchwork of squares at image right) that surrounded the mountain.

The image from September 24, 1980 (middle), shows the devastation of the May 18 eruption. The northern flank of the mountain collapsed, producing the largest landslide in recorded history. The avalanche buried 14 miles (23 kilometers) of the North Fork Toutle River with an average of 150 feet (46 meters)—but in places up to 600 feet (180 meters)—of rocks, dirt, and trees. The blast spread rock and ash (gray in the images) over 230 square miles (600 square kilometers). A raft of dead trees floats across Spirit Lake. Volcanic mudflows (lahars) poured down rivers and gullies around the intact flanks.

Three decades later, the image from September 10, 2009, shows the recovery in the blast zone. Most of the landscape within the blast zone has at least a tinge of red, meaning vegetation has recolonized the ground. The flanks of the volcano itself are still bare, as is a broad expanse north of the volcano called the Pumice Plain. Directly in the path of the landslide and several pyroclastic flows, this area has been slowest to recover.

Ground surveys, however, have found even this seemingly barren area is coming back to life: the first plant to re-appear was a prairie lupine, which can take nitrogen—a critical plant nutrient—straight from the air rather than from the soil. These small wildflowers begin the crucial task of rebuilding the soil and attracting insects and herbivores. This process is underway on the Pumice Plain, even though it is not yet visible from space.

References:
Bishop, J., Fagan, W., Schade, J., & Crisafulli, C. (2005). Chapter 11: Causes and Consequences of Herbivory on Prairie Lupine (Lupinus lepidus) in Early Primary Succession. In Ecological responses to the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens [Dale, V. H., Swanson, F. J., Crisafulli, C. M., Eds.] (pp. 151-161). Birkhauser. Retrieved online [Google Books] May 17, 2010.

Brantley, S. & Myers, B. (2000). Mount St. Helens -- From the 1980 Eruption to 2000: U.S. Geological Survey Fact Sheet 036-00. Retrieved May 17, 2010.

Clynne, M., Ramsay, D., & Wolfe, E. (2005). Pre-1980 Eruptive History of Mount St. Helens, Washington
USGS Fact Sheet 2005-3045. Retrieved May 17, 2010.

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