The Monday morning after the ash quit falling, I opened the front door of our mobile home and looked out. It was ghostly quiet.

During the night of the ashfall, I set an empty plastic, margarine cup and one of my Justin cowboy boots out on the front step to see what they would look like in the morning.

Why the cowboy boot, you ask?

I have no idea. It was there, I guess. Never really thought about the scientific, moral, or spiritual value of my choice.

Anyhow the next morning I leaned out and took pictures. Somewhere I have another picture of the boot and the cup. This is an "after the ashfall" picture of the one new car of our marriage, our Ford Granada, and my trusty old International Travelall.

On the Tuesday after the ash from Mount St. Helens fell on Moses Lake, Marty Anderson and I were drove into Moses Lake to the Chevrolet dealership where we both worked. We wanted to check the situation there.

He had called me and asked me over the telephone, "Shall we ruin your pickup or mine?"

We chose his and he came and got me. The ash dust was terrible. Powdery and billowy and it filled everything, including one's eyes, nose and mouth.

As we came into town on Broadway Extended, I remember wondering if Moses Lake would ever be the same again. It seemed like we were on another planet.