It was around 9 in the morning of May 18, 1980, 42 years ago. I was passed out on the couch in my small Seattle apartment. Dressed in the same clothes and judging by the pounding in my head I must have had a good time the night before. The unrelenting ringing of the phone was anguishing. Crawling along the floor I reached for the receiver and managed a weak “hello?”. It was my father calling from Los Angeles and in his traditional Filipino accent asked, ”are you alright?”.

Of course, he had just heard the news of the eruption of Mount St. Helens which I was unaware of when I answered the phone. With me in Seattle, and him being a concerned parent over 1,100 miles away, he was certain it must have happened in my own backyard. After switching on the news, I reassured him that I was OK and safe with the volcano being over 200 miles from my home.

At 8:32 am, a magnitude-5.1 earthquake centered directly below the north slope triggered that part of the volcano to slide, approximately 7–20 seconds after the shock. The landslide, the largest in recorded history, traveled at 110 to 155 mph and moved across Spirit Lake’s western arm.

Sadly, about 57 people were killed and hundreds of square miles were reduced to wasteland, causing over $1 billion in damage (equivalent to $3.6 billion today), thousands of animals were killed, and Mount St. Helens was left with a crater on its north side. The plume shot up 80,000 feet with ensuing clouds of ash reaching Yakima and Spokane, over 90 miles away. A total of 4 to 5 inches fell like black snow, plunging the areas into darkness and reducing visibility to 10 feet. Living in close proximity to the Pacific Northwest’s range of active volcanos; Mt. Baker, Glacier Peak, Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens can be a bit disconcerting.

However, a more pleasant part of that historic morning in May many years ago was hearing my father’s voice. His long-distance love made me feel like a safeguarded kid again, and after thinking about it, I understood his “real” reason for calling. It always amazed me when he used one of his dad superpowers . . , “how did he know I was out drinking the night before?“

My dad passed away five years later, but not before many heart-to-hearts. And after 37 years, (and being a father myself), I still miss him looking out for me.