CASTLE ROCK, Wash. -- The blast came without warning, snapping trees and engulfing Jim Scymanky and three other loggers in a suffocating wave of hot, black ash from Mount St. Helens.
Suffering from severe burns over 46 percent of his body and struggling to breathe, Scymanky gave up hope of being rescued and instead wondered how long it would take to die. Hours later, two National Guard helicopters swooped through murky ash and rescued him. His three co-workers perished.On Sunday, Scymanky was among more than a dozen survivors who gathered as part of an ongoing observation of the 20th anniversary of the May 18, 1980, eruption that killed 57 people and stunned scientists with its ferocity. The event was at the Silver Lake Visitor Center, about 45 miles west of the mountain.
Each survivor described the eruption from a different perspective.
Dorothy and Keith Stoffel of Spokane had a bird's eye view.
The two geologists were in a small airplane about 500 feet above the summit when the north flank of the mountain collapsed in a landslide that has been determined the largest in recorded history. Massive explosions followed.
"I thought, 'Oh, dear, this is the big one and here we are right above it,' " Dorothy Stoffel said in an interview in front of a visitors center display of aerial pictures she and her husband took.
They snapped a few pictures and then realized they were in danger. Their pilot put the aircraft into a steep dive to gain speed and outrace the oncoming blast wave. They didn't have time to be scared until they landed in Portland and raced into the terminal, leaving the plane sitting on the tarmac with its doors open.
Elsewhere, Robert Rogers had spent days evading authorities enforcing a no-trespassing zone around the mountain, which had been shaken by earthquakes for two months. The Portland man, 30 at the time, was on a nearby ridge on the west side of the mountain and watched the eruption, which blew eastward.
Scymanky, who lives in Woodburn, Ore., was working with a small logging team above the Toutle River that bright and clear Sunday. The four men figured they were safe because they were 10 to 13 miles from the mountain.
Suddenly, a Hispanic co-worker higher up on the ridge came racing downhill shouting, in Spanish, "The volcano is exploding!"
Scymanky threw his saw aside and then -- BOOM -- he heard what sounded like two jetliners bearing down on him. Within seconds, the forest around him was leveled and he felt himself suffocating.'
Scymanky, who suffered burns on his back, neck, arms and legs, never logged again. He now makes a living restoring antique cars.
"Today, I still can't believe I made it out of there," he said.