Living in Spokane Washington most of my life, I like many of will think of May 18th, 1980, the day Mt. St. Helens erupted when we think of the word ash. I was ten years old, and my siblings were 5 and 2 months. My mom was in the hospital and dad had kid duty. I think it was a particularly difficult time getting baby Catie to sleep so he sent Jon and I outside to play so the house was quiet. The sky was getting dark and we complained, bc we didn't want to get wet. I remember my dad saying "a little rain wont hurt ya" and the door closed. I don't know how long we were outside but the ash had begun falling from the sky, and we were confused. My father saw a broadcast and quickly called us in. The next few days were fascinating. The world outside was different, deserted and covered in piles of grey. As a child, I don't know what clean up was like, I do know that we weren't allowed outside without a mask bc you didn't want to breathe it in. We scooped some in a jar... that I still have today :)
Today's prompt brought to us by Scruffy-Love's LJ
No comments:
Post a Comment