Mount St. Helens
Sunday, May 18, 1980

“Ahhh,” the refreshing forest air filled my lungs as my two friends and I hiked through the woods of Mount St. Helens. We hadn’t been on the mountain in over two months, since the USGS had closed Mount St. Helens to the general public. Pleasure filled me to be on the mountain again. My dad was a park ranger, and I was delivering an important letter.

We laughed and chased each other as we climbed toward my dad. Justin leaped upon Nathaniel’s broad back and then raced away. Nathaniel’s dark brown hair swayed into his green eyes as he dashed after Justin. I just snickered, watching, and ran up the path. Soon after, we reached my dad and delivered the letter.

“Boys, thank you. But I want you off this mountain. You shouldn’t be here. There were some tremors earlier today,” my dad warned us.

I quickly hugged my dad, and we turned to go back down the hillside. Halfway down the steep slope of Mount St. Helens, something happened that changed our lives forever.

“Kaboom!” A reverberation filled the air as huge piles of ash shot into the sky! Justin went flying off his feet and into some bushes. Soon he wasn’t the only one on the ground as Nathaniel and I were soon sent sprawling as well.

“Run! Mount St. Helens is erupting!” I shouted as we picked ourselves up off the ground. Suddenly a rumble filled our ears as the whole north side of the mountain began to crumble into a landslide! My eyes began to scan, looking for the nearest and safest place where we could take cover. Then my eyes fell upon the perfect hiding place. Nathaniel and I crawled under an overhanging boulder just in time, but Justin lagged behind. We barely managed to drag him under to safety when the landslide fell upon us.

The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital with a grueling pain in my leg. I looked to the side and there were Justin and Nathanial . . . safe. We were survivors!