On May 18, 1980, my wife and I were driving home to Vancouver from Spokane.
As we were eating breakfast in Ritzville, we noticed the sky was filling with billowing odd-colored clouds. It was then we heard Mount St. Helens had erupted.
As we drove on, the whole area turned dark as night. Country lights were coming on and the sky was black.
We drove slowly through the falling ash and made it through the Tri Cities just as the roads we had traveled were closed.
It was a very strange and unforgettable day. We were thankful to be home.
