Everyone talks about Mt. St. Helens, but nobody does anything.  In my day we knew what to do when a mountain erupted.  But today kids just watch it on television.  They seem to think it's a new kind of video game.

 

    Back in 1980—just 25 years ago this month—we were all worried about Mount St. Helens. 

 

    Increasing seismic activity, a bulge growing on the north slope, and scientists from around the globe warning us that an eruption was coming SOON, was reason enough for concern.  The government declared a "red zone" around the mountain with police road blocks set up to keep people out.  While some intrepid (pronounced fool-hardy") adventurers still hiked in, most people cooperated. 

 

    One Deputy Sheriff who manned barricades near Merwin Dam used to tell a story about a Texan he turned away. 

    "Do you have anything as big as our volcano down in Texas?" the Deputy had to ask. 

    "No," the Texan answered without missing a beat, "but we do have this volunteer fire department down in Amarillo that can put it out for y'all."   

 

    One cantankerous, crusty, curmudgeon, eighty-four-year-old Harry Truman, didn't cooperate.  He refused to leave the red zone.  Truman had operated the Spirit Lake Lodge just below timberline on Mt. St. Helens since 1928.  It was his home.  

    "That mountain's part of Harry and Harry's a part of that mountain." Truman told reporters from The Daily News.  

    So purposeful was his refusal to go, government officials finally granted him permission to stay.  Truman probably would have stayed anyway. 

 

    Harry Truman was at his lodge at 8:32 a.m. on May 18th, 1980, when the mountain erupted.  The blast has been compared to the explosion of 250 atomic bombs.  Lyn Topinka of the US Geological Survey reported that the explosion blew 3.7 billion cubic yards of earth out of the side of the mountain.  Truman was in its path.

 

    The eruption spurred a civic spirited group called  the SandBaggers to action.  The SandBaggers, a self described bunch of ne'er-do-wells, patterned after the Portland Rain Makers, did what they do best in times of grave national emergency.  They did "something really stupid." 

    Retired FBI agent Tom Manning, and his fellow SandBaggers, came up with a plan to quiet the volcano.  It involved a virgin and a chartered airplane. 

    "It's just like those old Tarzan movies," Manning said, "except for the airplane." 

    The SandBaggers' plan was to fly over Mt. St. Helens and chuck in a virgin (or two). 

    There was one small hitch.  They couldn't find a virgin willing to volunteer.  It wasn't the part about jumping into a volcano.  Lots of virgins were willing to do that.  But none of them wanted to ride in an airplane with the SandBaggers.  Besides, virgins have a short shelf life. 

    So the SandBaggers decided to go with a mannequin. 

    SandBagger co-founder Walt Naze explained, "We borrowed a mannequin from SandBagger Barry Morrill, who owned a popular local dress shop." 

    Morrill thought his pals could probably be trusted with the mannequin. 

 

    SandBagger Don Cianci's photo of two SandBaggers loading Morrill's mannequin into the chartered airplane found it's way into national media.  Even Playboy Magazine reported on the Sandbaggers' daring quest to quiet the mountain. 

 

    It has been twenty-five years now, and since then Mt. St. Helens has been quite for most of the time.  But a few weeks ago, almost on cue, she started acting up again.  Now the SandBaggers are looking for a new plan to stop the mountain.  They have considered pounding a really big cork into the crater, but couldn't find mallet that was large enough. 

 

    If you have a plan that might be stupid enough to appeal to the SandBaggers, send it to hjdigby@lexingtonfilm.com or mail it to the Columbia River Reader.  You might also consider getting some counseling.  If the SandBaggers actually use your idea, you will win an all expense paid lunch for two with the SandBaggers at Yan's Restaurant in West Kelso.  You may also be considered for SandBagger membership. 

 

    Although the counseling is probably a better idea. 

 

-- Horace J. Digby