 Look at all these poor trees. I know. This used to be a beautiful green forest. Everything looks so dead around here. Well, if you look a little closer, you'll see there's really lots of living things. I bet it used to be pretty here. It was beautiful. Mount St. Helens, a 9,677-foot sleeping volcano nestled in the wild abundance of the Gifford Pinchot National Forest in southwest Washington. Before it began to awake from its slumber in March 1980, Mount St. Helens was indeed surrounded by beautiful, bountiful forests and lakes and streams. From the summit, the views were breathtaking. Below lay Spirit Lake, and in the distance, Mount Rainier. The natural setting was a recreational haven for campers, hikers, picnickers. Thousands of children had their first camping and boating experiences on Spirit Lake at the YMCA's Camp Mihan and other youth camps. Forest service campgrounds like Bear Cove, Cedar Creek, and Donnie Brook provided an inspirational setting for those who would venture into this postcard world. Though a sleeping volcano, Mount St. Helens was active many times in the history of the area, so much so that early Native Americans called it Fire Mountain. Big eruptions were seen as late as the mid-1800s. Then the mountain seemed to go back to sleep again, March 27, 1980. Following a series of earthquakes under the mountain during the previous week, Mount St. Helens began to wake up. A 250-foot-wide crater opened, spewing ash and steam. It came as no surprise to geologists who had predicted two years earlier that Mount St. Helens would erupt before the end of the century. Volcano experts from the government, the University of Washington, and elsewhere rushed in with electronic equipment to measure the slightest twinge. 845. And a young scientist, David Johnston, of the US Geological Survey predicted a series of events which would later prove to be incredibly accurate. In the initial phases, we'd see probably very large eruptions that would extend high into the air. This would spread ash over large areas in Western Washington, maybe possibly in an extreme case, even farther east. In the near flanks of the volcano, there would be more damage done by possibly hot avalanches or pyroclastic flows. Farther downstream, we could see mudflows and floods. Because this is such a symmetrical volcano and because the crater is so high, if there's an explosion, it's probable that the debris, the very hot incandescent ash that would come down, could come down all sides. But right now, there's a very great hazard due to the fact that the glacier is breaking up on this side of the volcano, on the north side. And that could produce a very large avalanche hazard. By early April, the crater had expanded to 1,500 feet wide and continued to grow. The Forest Service had already closed portions of the Gifford Pinchot National Forest surrounding the volcano. Those having homes, lodges, or camps in the area were urged to leave. Using a donated helicopter and a large drop box, the operators of the Spirit Lake Youth Camp began hauling out. Most were taking the warnings seriously. Still others were not impressed with the warnings. You don't mind working in the shadow of the mountain then? I'd be scared of. More danger if one of them trees is falling on the backside and there isn't an explosion. For 83-year-old Harry Truman, operator of St. Helens Lodge on Spirit Lake, the warnings fell on deaf ears. He wasn't moving anywhere. That's my life. Spirit Lake and Mount St. Helens is my life, folks. I've lived there 50 years. It's a part of me. That mountain, that lake is a part of Truman and I'm a part of it. Sunday morning, May 18, 1980. It was like any other morning for a Forest Service tree planting crew on the lower southern flank of the mountain until 8.32 AM. It seemed to happen in an instant. The whole top of the mountain, tons of ash, rock, and ice rocketed into the stratosphere. The cloud reached some 15 miles up into the sky. The site was spectacular. As most of you already know, we had a major eruption occurring at 8.32 approximately this morning on Mount St. Helens. It does appear that the northwest flank of the mountain seems to be gone. They have indicated that there have been some mud flows that come down the southeast flank of the mountain. Emergency procedures have been put into effect. At 10.15 this morning, Nicollet's County reported that a 12-foot wall of water was coming down the Tula River. This was verified by the Washington State Patrol. The raging wall of water caused by the melted ice and snow roared through a logging camp, picking up more debris as it went, knocking out bridges, cabins, and homes. In a matter of hours, the flood surged under the Tula River Bridge on Interstate 5, forcing closure of the main arterial between Seattle and Portland. Entire forests, with logs hundreds of years old, passed by stunned onlookers. Eventually, the logs and mud reached the Columbia River, clogging the river channel, and closing it to freighter traffic. But the wind was blowing the ash in a northeasterly direction. And at noon, it was pitch black and much of central and eastern Washington. TITAM and CATS FM, urges everyone to not panic. If you want to start getting out some water. The gritty clouds seem to sum like the end of the world. The road is closed from here any further east. This is far east as you can go. All over eastern Washington, people and other living things suddenly had to deal with a world full of ash. Ash from a plume that eventually spread around the world. For a while, roads and highways hundreds of miles away had to be closed due to blowing ash. The ash was everywhere. And because it was so light and fine, the grit got into everything. Water simply turned it into a substance with the consistency of wet cement. Meanwhile, the biggest rescue operation in the history of the Northwest was underway, involving military helicopter units, volunteers, and Forest Service employees, all coordinated by the county sheriffs. Look at this. It doesn't even look like the same country. Even the valley's not changing. It nothing matches the map. Where's Spirit Lake? Is that it over there? I can't believe I've camped up in this area. It doesn't look like any place I've ever been before. Rescue operations lasted for two weeks. 170 people were brought to safety. But 57 were dead or missing. Geologist David Johnston was at a scientific research station six miles northwest of the mountain. Harry Truman was at his lodge. Neither was ever found. OK, I think we've got a car down here on the left. Looks like a Japanese car or something. From the perilous vantage point of a still photographer and the actual recorded transmission of a hand radio operator, we learned a lot about what actually happened in the first few minutes of the eruption. Photographer Gary Rosenquist barely escaped. Radio operator Jerry Martin did not. This was not an eruption that spewed molten lava. But throughout the day, pyroclastic flows of hot gases, ash, and pumice rolled down the mountain at speeds of up to 100 miles an hour, searing everything in the way. In the valleys below, steaming hot mud flowed over businesses, campgrounds, roads, bridges, homes. The blast had leveled about 40,000 acres of prime timber. The avalanches of debris, rocks, mud, ice, and snow created a massive natural dam at one end of Spirit Lake. Should the dam give way, communities downstream would be threatened by catastrophic flooding. To reduce the threat, the Army Corps of Engineers first used pumps and later a tunnel to keep the lake at a safe level. On privately owned lands, salvage operations to reclaim the downed timber got under way quickly. After a careful environmental analysis, the Forest Service allowed salvage in the National Forest. Though there have been lesser eruptions several times since May 1980, scientists from the US Geological Survey visit the steaming crater continuing to monitor the changes taking place. And as a new mountain begins to take shape inside the crater in the form of a slowly building dome of hot lava, we're learning more about how volcanoes are formed. Other researchers from the Forest Service universities and private research organizations are conducting ongoing research projects in areas affected by the eruption. All of them are seeking answers to such questions as, how did the eruption affect water, plants, and wildlife? How can we better predict eruptions? What can we learn about the formation of the Earth and its soils and how life interacts? On the slopes of the mountain, scientists such as biologist Jim McMahon found that what looked like a dead environment was really very much alive. When I first visited the volcano in the summer of 1980 and looked out at the terrific amount of destruction, I found it almost impossible to believe that plants and animals could survive. To my amazement, and I think to the amazement of all my colleagues, as we began to look more carefully in places that had been leveled by even the most serious impacts of the volcano, we were able to find plants and animals that had survived. And even if there weren't survivors, new migrants coming in from the outside were already beginning to get a foothold. One way that a lot of animals survived in the morning of May 18th and 1980 was to be below ground. For some animals, they not only live below ground, but all of the nutrients that they require come from below ground resources. A good example of that is the animal that made this mound a pocket gopher. Not only do pocket gophers stay underground and they can survive with the roots and bulbs that were underneath the volcanic material, but they actually help the new plants that are coming in to re-establish. Scientists like Joe Means of the Forest Service are studying those processes that allowed many plants and trees to survive the blast and the layer of ash or tephra. Here's a Pacific silver fir doing very well after coming out from under the snowpack and under the tephra. And some others not doing so well. But after they survived the tephra fall in hot blast, they also had to reach the surface. And some of them did, like this one that's fairly stiff, and some of them did to a limited extent, like this one that's still quite bent over. And some trees, such as this little silver fir here, could not. You can see he's fairly well stuck, no green foliage on his crown. In the zone of Blown Down Forest, one of the most important sites for survival of plants was on the vertical surfaces of root wads of blown down trees, such as you see here. Here you see some huckleberries which survived the eruption under a snowpack, and they were further helped by being on this vertical root wad surface because pumice and ash did not collect here and smothered them. The aquatic systems around Mount St. Helens received a variety of impacts from the volcano. They range from places like Mata Lake here, where on the morning of May 18th, the area of the surface of the water was covered with ice and snow. That helped insulate the organisms in the water from the effects of the volcanic fallout. The result of that is that fishes and reptiles and amphibians like frogs and salamanders survived in place and have continued to breed even as early as the summer of 1980. Not only are plants and animals coming back to the landscape, so are people. In the first years after the eruption, more than a million people have visited the area. In fact, the volcano has become a major point of interest for visitors from throughout the world. The Forest Service has provided access to various viewpoints inside the blast zone, such as this one at Windy Ridge Overlooking Spirit Lake. Right now, if we drained all of Spirit Lake, we'd have to go down to about 120 feet of mud to get to the top of the old lake. Presentations by the Forest Service describe many of the subtle features of the blast area and provide answers to many a curious visitor. Where was the Harry Truman Lodge down there? Okay, Harry Truman's Lodge was right over at the tip of this ridge right over there, the one coming into the water. But of course, he was down about 300 feet from where it is now, because he was on the old lake line. And so he's been covered by about 120 feet of mud and then the water on top of that. To preserve the area around the mountain as a natural wonder, Congress and the President declared 110,000 acres as the Mount St. Helen's National Volcanic Monument to be managed by the Forest Service. This assures that much of the area where the effects of the eruption are so dramatic will be allowed to recover naturally so that present and future generations can get a close-up look at the rebuilding processes of nature. For those who can't make the trip to the blast zone but who still have curiosities to satisfy, a visitor center has been established near Interstate 5. Displays and information are also provided at the Forest Service information stations on the way into the monument. For those who do travel to the blast zone, the first impression is one of utter bleakness. Many are saddened to see an area of such abundant beauty now transformed into a seeming wasteland. But as the days and years go by, what becomes awe-inspiring is the rebirth, the regrowth, the return of life. The beauty that was the attraction for so many before the eruption is returning, albeit at nature's own pace. Now, if we look here, what do we see down in there? If we saw a fish, and there's just life coming back and also look at that, there's plants there. And there's plants coming back everywhere along with the plants, there's animals that come back. Just like that, there's a little frog right there. Volcanoes are secretive and largely unpredictable. Mount St. Helens may remain active for months, years, even centuries. But one thing for sure, it will continue to change. That's the way it is with volcanoes. For now, we have a landscape in transition, a rare opportunity to look into the Earth's window and learn more about our planet and the life that thrives upon it. And a chance to marvel at nature's persistent ability to heal what seem to be devastating wounds and to rebound and prosper with abundant life and beauty.