I should probably go thru the
Wikipedia article on Mt. St. Helens and
tone it down a little. I was as close as I'd ever want to be to a volcano spewing ash, altho' I was 350 miles away. That might have been fine anyway, except I was downwind. The Mt. St. Helens eruption " . . . left a crater one to 2 miles (3.2 km) wide and 0.5 miles (800 m) deep, with its north end open in a huge breach. The eruption killed 57 people . . "
Of course, there were people on the shoulders of the mountain who died in the pyroclastic flow and the resultant flooding as melting snow swept down clogged rivers. 230 square miles of forest were flattened.
Probably the biggest problem we had was the uncertainties that came with the event. Other than the continual media drumbeat during the few weeks leading up to the explosion -- we got no real news that was useful. Not surprisingly, after the eruption and during the continuing eruptions - not much useful information got out, either.
For the most part, nobody was going anywhere during those days. To do so, was to seriously compromise whatever engine you were using to move about and, altho' a dust mask was about all that was necessary for short stays outdoors - pushing it wouldn't have been smart or comfortable.
I had the misfortune to be working for a greenhouse at that time. An acre range of greenhouses turned into a collection of 150' long
tunnels with light only entering from the end walls. Surrounded by 6 and 8-foot tall rose bushes, it was too dark in the middle of the
tunnels to see without a flash light. Clearing the ash off the greenhouses began a day or 2 after the 1st eruption. We were knee-deep in volcanic ash in the gutters, shoveling it to a "mountain" at each end of the 150 foot structures.
As soon as the greenhouses were cleared - the sun broke out of the dust haze and temperatures rose. We were faced with running air-conditioning pumps and destroying them in the process. The alternative was to open the greenhouse roof vents and have the ash sifting down on us and the plants :/.
Roads were, for the most part, empty of traffic and that was a good thing. Not only wasn't it safe to run your car engine but a plume of choking dust rose behind every vehicle like the roostertail behind a hydroplane.
But soon, the blessed rains began to fall
. The summer turned out to be one of the rainiest of any that I've experienced in this arid part of the world. As soon as the rain stopped, dust clouds again rose up behind cars on the road but it often rained a couple times a week
.
Things got fairly well wet down that winter but every windstorm for the next several years would pick up volcanic dust. Shaking the branch of an evergreen tree would bring ash down all over you, years after the eruption.
Rain, Hattie, that's the best thing for clearing the air. I don't know if it "seeds the clouds" but you will appreciate the blue skies between the storms. Let it rain.
Steve
Mt. St. Helens, May 18th 1980
Hattie 
Hattie,
Hattie 
