VOLCANO LEAVES INDELIBLE MEMORIES

Heidi Wallenborn, news director

Copalis beach

Bob Bertsch, then chief of the Battle Ground Fire Department, was digging clams with his wife on Copalis Beach north of Aberdeen when Mount St. Helens self-destructed on May 18, 1980.

"We heard it," Bertsch said. "It was like a bomb going off. Some guy, he was kinda goofy, came running through camp hollering `The mountain blew! The mountain blew!' So we checked with the office. The person inside said it had, and that I-5 was closed at the Toutle River."

The couple figured "we'd better get out of here," and began a journey home that took several hours.

Because the interstate freeway was dissected at the Toutle River by a roaring cauldron of mud and melted glacier, those on the north side had to find alternative ways to the south.

The Bertschs and hundreds of other vehicles traversed windy roads through Raymond, Naselle and out to Longview. Pulling a trailer made the trip even slower.

Battle Ground

Once home, Bertsch worked in the following days cleaning up ash with his crew and citizen volunteers. Although ash didn't fall on Battle Ground the day the mountain blew, there were a few pre-eruption dustings and "one good shot" of 3-4 inches on Main St. after the event, Bertsch said.

Firefighters shoveled ash off the flat roof of the fire station because the weight of the stuff, especially when wet, was heavy enough to make the roof collapse.

Firemen supplied facial masks and also hosed off Little League fields so children could play ball. Streets were closed while roads were rinsed and ash removed.

Then bank managers Mike Cochran of First Independent and Brooks Owen of Northwest National Bank remember signs posted asking people to

remove masks while doing business inside, "for obvious reasons," said Owen. "We wanted to see who was coming into the bank."

People had a sense of humor about it and there were no problems, the men said. After a few days, people stopped wearing the face filters altogether.

Both men remember personally dealing with messy ash which coated cars, roads, decks, roofs, gutters and more.

Cochran watched the volcano steam from his home in Salmon Creek in the aftermath. In the following days "ash rain" fell like dripping mud.

Frank DeShirlia, former mayor who was a city council member at the time of the volcanic burst, said he walked out of a coffee shop that morning and saw a big, black cloud with lightning in it. He remembers being thankful the blast went northeast.

After that, it was dealing with the mess.

"We virtually hand-washed every street by hand," DeShirlia said. "The whole community got involved---they were pulling hoses, offering food and drink or the use of restrooms--I was very impressed."

DeShirlia also told of then- mayor Everett Eaton helping to "pull hose" although the man was in his 60s.

Former volunteer firefighter Jerry Nies remembered Eaton helping, too.

One firefighter duty is to "protect the hose," Nies said, "by carrying, not dragging it." Hoses have a cotton-based cover and rip easily if dragged on the ground. Battle Ground's hoses were pretty old at the time, Nies remembered.

Crews were getting weary of picking up the heavy hose and crossing from one side of the street to the other.

Eaton must have been tired, too. He hooked the hose to his car's bumper and dragged it down the street with firefighters chasing after him yelling "Stop!" Nies said.

"Bob Bertsch raised hell at the next council meeting," Nies said. "The city council voted to give us all new hoses."

Ash coated a senior citizen complex parking lot and sidewalks making it hard for residents to get around.

So Nies and his young adult son took a fire hose to the complex.

The son hooked the hose to the hydrant. Nies stood ready and told him to turn it on.

"Well, he didn't thread it right," Nies said. "The hose fell off and a stream of water 1 1/2 inches in diameter hit dead- center on a senior citizens' door--which wasn't shut all the way."

Nies sprinted to the apartment and found the rush of water had rearranged some chairs and a table and chased the resident into the kitchen.

"She thought the world had come to an end," Nies said.

"It was a crazy time, no doubt about it," he said.

Randle

One graphic recollection comes from Scott Galster, a firefighter/mechanic for Fire District 12.

Galster was 14 and living at the family farm in Randle, about 20 air miles from the volcano, at the time of the eruption.

At 14 years old, he enjoyed riding his dirt bike with friends on the mountain.

The morning of the blast, he was getting ready to go again "as far, as close as we could," he said.

But when he went outside the morning of May 18, something didn't seem right. He heard rumbling. A stiff wind blew from the south and several pine boughs littered the yard.

"But we didn't have any pine trees nearby," he said.

Galster and his family went into the pasture and could see a black ash plume rising and coming toward them from the south. The sky rained 1/4-inch pebbles and pelted the family.

"I saw a Cessna in front of that big black cloud," Galster said. "It looked like that little airplane was towing the cloud on a string."

The family bolted into the house and within minutes everything turned "pitch black." For about five hours it was pretty gloomy.

Travelers stranded on the road found the Galster farm at an intersection. They were all welcomed inside.

"We met a lot of people," Galster said.

Everyone listened to the radio, but for some reason, the announcer seemed to not believe the mountain blew, Galster said, only stating that they were hearing rumors.

The next day, 6 inches of dry ash greeted everyone. Galster remembered thinking "this must be what the moon looks like."

The family chose "the worst car that was okay to drive" and went to a store to load up on groceries.

White Pass High School was let out early for the year when the military took over the building, he said.

On the farm, roofs on 10 buildings had to be replaced because acid from the ash destroyed them, and all the driveways had to be re- graveled.

Rain was the worst. Muddy ash fell from the sky or turned ash into clay that stuck to everything. The only thing the pulverized volcano rock was good for was the garden.

"We rototilled it under," Galster said. "We had a good garden the next year."

Cougar

While the Cessna out ran the cloud, Yacolt fire chief Tom McDowell helped evacuate the Cougar area.

McDowell was sleeping, he said, when the explosion happened. His wife, who was out getting a newspaper, woke him up when she returned.

"Then I went to work," he said.

Before the eruption, the road was closed at Jack's Restaurant on SR-503 near Cougar. After the eruption, the line was pulled back to Yale Bridge.

Crawford area east of Battle Ground

While Galster's family hid from the racing cloud, Louise Tucker, then Allworth, worked outside at "the old mill" on Allworth Rd.

"I saw a black cloud billow behind Bell Mountain," she said, "but didn't think too much about it. You can't see Mount St. Helens from there."

"We had a late lunch and that's when we found out it happened," Tucker said. "So we hopped in the car with the kids and went to watch it from Andy Hanson's hill, north of Battle Ground Lake."

As they watched, the cloud developed its own weather system with lightning, she said.

"I couldn't believe it was really happening." she said.

Although that first day everything went northeast, ash from smaller eruptions over time made its way to the family home.

"Ash rain was the worst," she said. The gritty stuff ruined windshields and chainsaws.

Mount St. Helens

Ash, rocks and a super-hot hurricane also flattened and splintered several miles of forest and obliterated everything in its path.

Brooks Owen got to see the destruction first-hand a few days after the big blast.

A bank customer was a commercial pilot who also flew bi-planes. He took Owen and his son on separate rides to see the devastation.

Owen described it as "Jaw- dropping. I thought about the power of nature and the helplessness of mankind."

MOUNTAIN BECKONS TOURISTS TO WOODLAND

by Michelle Kapitanovich

The busiest place around when Mount St. Helens woke up with a shudder and belch last September was the Woodland Tourist Center/Chamber of Commerce, located on Goerig St. on the I-5 hub.

And it never slowed down.

Virginia Wilkerson, information specialist with the Center, said the influx of tourists didn't even take its annual winter dip in numbers.

"It hasn't slowed down," she said. "We always have a big bunch of people who stop here."

Average busy summertime numbers are 20-25 visitors per day, said Sharon Knight, executive director. But on Oct. 3 last year, there were 200, and more than 100 on several other days.

"It was nuts around here," she said.

Phones are still busy, too, with people calling for information from the best route to the mountain to where to find facial masks to protect against ash.

As the 25th anniversary of the May 18, 1980 mega-eruption and world's largest landslide draws near, Wilkerson and staff are making sure the gift shop is packed with Mount St. Helens memorabilia, area artists' work and ash ware.

The Center's guest registry reads like a world geography lesson: Holland, Australia, Sweden, France, Canada, Finland, Denmark, and just about every state in the nation.

Last year, Robyn and Bill Carter drove all the way from Salt Lake City, UT for the weekend, to "see some steam or feel a bit of a rumble," said Robyn.

Several visitors following SR- 503 through Woodland to the mountain stopped at the AM/PM and Arco, which flanks I-5. Then and now, people stock up on batteries, gas and food--and ask directions, said a clerk who did not want to be identified.

Burgerville is another busy place, with guests from all over coming to see the volatile volcano. True Value Hardware sells dust masks and other needed supplies for visitors heading north. Even Karen's Koffee Kabana has seen increased business from tourists.

"The out-of-towners want to know the best places to go and how to get there," said owner Karen Tarrant.

VOLCANO PUTS ON SHOW FOR ANNIVERSARY

Heidi Wallenborn, news director

May 18 this year marks the 25th anniversary of the explosion "heard" around the world when Mount St. Helens decapitated itself in a violent eruption and landslide.

Planned events in Clark and Cowlitz counties will mark the anniversary in a variety of ways.

Events this year mark the mountain's most tumultuous eruption in 1980.

Never a docile volcano

Loowit. Si Yett. Lavelatla. Area Indian tribes had a variety of names for Mount St. Helens, but they all meant the same thing: Lady of Fire.

Since days of old, the unstable volcano has lived up to her name.

Cowlitz Indians tell of a time when Mount Rainier had an argument with his two wives, Mount St. Helens and Mount Adams. Mount St. Helens became jealous, blew her top, and lopped of Mount Rainier's head, the legend goes.

Up until about 1800, Mount St. Helens' temper tantrums had only been documented by Klickitat, Puyallup, Cowlitz and Yakima tribes. That year, explorers, fur traders, missionaries, the Sanpoil Indians of eastern Washington, and a Spokane chief told of the effects of ash fallout.

Meredith Gairdner, a doctor at Fort Vancouver, wrote about "darkness and haze" in 1831 and 1835. He also said he saw lava flows, although scientists believe he may have seen mudflows or small pyroclastic blasts with glowing rocks.

In November 1842, Rev. Josiah Parrish of Champoeg, OR witnessed an eruption from his vantage point about 80 miles south of the mountain. Missionaries at the Dalles, OR, said they had ashfall about the same time. A clergyman named Brewer said St. Helens "scattered its ashes like a light fall of snow." Others described the ash as fine sand and smelling like sulphur.

Canadian artist Paul Kane painted Mount St. Helens erupting in 1847 at a point halfway down the north slope near where the Goat Rocks dome was before the 1980 eruption.

Scientists believe eruptive activity continued until 1857 with possible events in 1898, 1903 and 1921, which may have been steam plumes, small explosions or rockfalls, but no ash.

After 1857, the volcano was no longer considered a hazard by scientists. In 1975, they said it may erupt in the next century.

Five years later, the volcano awoke with a shudder on March 20, 1980. A magnitude 4.2 earthquake notified the world that her 123-year nap had ended.

In just two months, the perfect, smooth dome marking the "ice cream cone of the Cascades" would be obliterated in a gigantic rockslide and avalanche.

From March to May, St. Helens rocked with explosions, spitting ash and steam. Activity slowed in April. Two craters formed and merged in her perfect lid, and cracks slid across the summit.

On the north face of the volcano near the summit, a bulge formed and grew by about 5 feet daily. Earthquake activity centered below it with rising magma.

About 8:32 a.m. Sunday, May 18, the unstable, 450-foot bulge collapsed in response to a magnitude 5.1 earthquake about a mile beneath it.

When the north face slid, it released pressure from gasses and magma inside and triggered a massive pumice and ash eruption. The top 1,300 feet of the mountain disintegrated or roared outward.

The ash column rose to an altitude of 16 miles in less than 15 minutes. The powerful emission of ash continued for the next nine hours. The cloud traveled around the world.

In eastern Washington, morning became like nighttime as heavy ashfall blanketed the area. Citizens donned face masks and were instructed not to drive vehicles.

After the eruption, 24 miles of the Toutle River Valley was filled with a debris avalanche ranging in depth from 150-600 feet.

For example, the amount of material dumped was enough to cover Washington, D.C. about 14 feet under. Mud and melted glacier water traveled at speeds of 150 miles per hour for about 15 miles.

About 250 square miles of recreation, timber and private lands were damaged by the super-heated, rock-filled lateral blast, and an estimated 200 million cubic yards of matter were swept away in volcanic mudflows (lahars) into river channels.

Picturesque Spirit Lake was displaced as if a large hand had shoved it, and became a stinking, tree-filled cauldron of dead fish and poisons.

In the eruption, 57 people died along with 1,500 elk, 5,000 deer and about 11 million fish. In addition, 200 homes, 47 bridges and 185 miles of highway were destroyed.

Among the dead was U.S. Geological Survey scientist David Johnston who was camped 6 miles northwest of the volcano, unknowingly in its destructive path. Johnston Ridge, the nearest viewpoint into the mile-wide, horseshoe shaped gaping maw of the crater, is named for him.

Also gone are photographer Reid Blackburn, on assignment for National Geographic and The Columbian, and Harry Truman, owner of Spirit Lake Lodge at the base of the mountain, who refused to evacuate. He said he spent 50 years there and would rather die with his mountain. He did.

Five more eruptions took place in 1980 after the May 18 showstopper, with the last larger scale event in October. July and October explosions destroyed two small domes that formed in June and August.

Reinventing herself

In the years following, St. Helens began to rebuild itself. Lava flowed to the surface and hardened in the base of the gaping crater, and later emerged as rock, forming a new dome. The mountain has been relatively quiet since 1986, with a few small steam and ash ventings in the early 1990s.

In late September last year, the cantankerous mountain awoke from a catnap of only a few years.

A new dome is rapidly emerging south of the 1986 dome and shoving it north. Magma is creating rock and pushing up against the old rock. Lava can sometimes be seen glowing in cracks.

In early November, the dome grew at about 32.5 feet per second. At that rate uninterrupted, the crater would completely fill and regain its former height in only about 11 years, scientists said. Currently, the rate has dropped somewhat, but not significantly.

In height, the new dome dwarfs the old, 876-foot high mound of rock by about 500 feet. In fact, it is taller than the Empire State Building in New York, scientists said. It could fill 134 Rose Garden arenas.

A glacier on the south end has buckled and is being displaced by the emerging dacite rock.

The smooth, "whaleback" portion of the dome that emerged over the fall and winter has broken and crumbled a bit into the crater. A new, fin-shaped spine began emerging smoothly from a vent in its northwest edge in May 2005, and is already about as tall as the U.S. Bancorp Tower in Portland, growing at about 10 feet daily, scientists said.

A free open house is set for Wed., May 18, at the Johnston Ridge Observatory, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Scientists and staff will explain volcanos in the Cascade Range and techniques used to monitor them.

INTERIM POLICE CHIEF BEGINS WORK IN BG

Heidi Wallenborn, news director

Larry Dickerson, recently retired Lacey police chief, has stepped into place as interim head of the Battle Ground Police Department. He began work on May 11.

Ron Johnson, Battle Ground's 31-year veteran and chief for the last 24, announced in late April his plans to retire effective May 31.

According to city manager Eric Holmes, Johnson will be "on call" until the end of May.

Dickerson is a 33-year police veteran whose career began with the Lacey Police Department.

Lacey, a city with a 2000 census population of over 31,000, is located just southeast of Olympia and covers about 16.5 miles.

As chief, Dickerson managed 48 sworn officers, 13 civilian personnel, 20 reserve police officers, 25 senior patrol members, an explorer post, and a $6.3 million budget.

Dickerson is a graduate of the prestigious FBI National Academy, as well as several leadership and management training classes including Internal Reviews, Police Civic Liability, the investigation of the use of deadly force, and has more than 2,000 hours of additional training.

Dickerson has worked on consulting assignments for 25 police and sheriff's departments for accredation or internal affairs investigations.

Dickerson's career began as a two-year reserve officer. In 1969, he was hired for patrol. Over the years he was promoted to detective, sergeant, and detective sergeant of investigations, and in 1986 moved to deputy chief in charge of police operations under chief John Mansfield.

When Mansfield retired in 2002, Dickerson competed in the search for the position and was hired. Dickerson retired in late March this year.

Community involvement is important to Dickerson. He has worked for 24 years with the Thurston County Youth Football program for children in grades 4-6, played Santa Claus in the Santa Mobile Christmas Program, participated in March of Dimes Walk-a-Thons, helped with fundraisers for the YMCA, and is past president of a Kiwanis Club.

Dickerson encourages community volunteerism among officers and staff. He was nominated three times for Top Ten Citizens in Thurston County for community involvement.

In Lacey, Dickerson is known by officers and staff for the phrase "provide the service." He is the recipient of the Distinguished Service Award for the City of Lacey, and was named Law Enforcement Officer of the Year by Olympia and Thurston counties' Kiwanis Clubs.

Some programs Dickerson started are citizen, student, Southeast Asian, senior and business academies, and an African American leadership group.

Dickerson also formed the Citizen's Roundtable, a diverse group that provides insight into the community's relationship with law enforcement. He also supported the school resource officer program.

Battle Ground officials have put out word in a nationwide search for a new, permanent chief, Holmes said, adding that Dickerson does not plan to stay on.

DIGGING AT BG PUBLIC WORKS IS PUT OFF

Some contamination found in soil in another location

Heidi Wallenborn, news director

Digging 11 test pits at an alleged illegal hazardous dump site at Battle Ground Public Works, 1308 SE Grace Ave., has been delayed until the end of May.

Ground-penetrating radar results done by the environmental company GeoDesign of Vancouver will take longer to interpret than expected, said city manager Eric Holmes. The results will pinpoint where specific digging should take place.

Another factor is that state Department of Ecology Environmental Crimes Unit officials want to oversee digging, and schedules had to be coordinated, Holmes said.

Marv Coleman, site manager for Ecology's Toxic Cleanup program, is set arrive May 23, Holmes said.

Coleman answers to Gerd Hattwig, chief criminal investigator of state environmental crimes. Hattwig works with federal Environmental Protection Agency special agents in the Unit.

Years of dumping alleged

In a taped interview with a Battle Ground detective regarding alleged equipment theft by employees in December 2003, former public works director Paul Haines told the detective he is concerned about an illegal landfill.

Haines alleges there may be several years worth of 55- gallon drums, petroleum products and asbestos pipe buried under "tons and tons" of dirt over a shallow groundwater table.

Haines also said an employee told him that the "technique for fixing it [getting rid of hazardous waste] was they just buried it." In fact, 130 cubic yards of clean fill was spread over the top of the 1-acre site near the sewage lagoon in spring 2004.

The pits will be dug 15 feet deep or more, Holmes said, and will be about a backhoe-bucket wide.

In late April this year, Clark County Department of Health officials took surface soil samples of another area said to be contaminated at Battle Ground Public Works. The site is near the dumpster where an employee took photos of upturned 55-gallons drums leaking oil into the ground a few years ago.

Recent surface soil samples came back positive with 670 parts per million of heavy oils, and 145 parts per million of diesel. Higher amounts may be found when GeoDesign hand augers deeper into the soil in six locations, said Sam Adams, public works director, in a memo to Holmes.

State and federal Model Toxic Control Act requires clean-up action when levels reach 2,000 parts per million, Adams wrote.

"This is good news, for now," Adams said.

Jim Maul, president of environmental company Maul, Foster and Alongi in Hazel Dell, said it might be.

"If the sample is an accurate representation of the site conditions, concentrations of that sort are indicative of other public works sites," Maul said. "To me, that sounds like low numbers."

If high levels of hazardous waste are found in either site, the Operatio