Synopses & Reviews
The word conjures up images of native princesses being cruelly sacrificed to appease angry gods; of derring-do adventurers risking their lives at the lips of craters boiling with red-hot lava; of pillars of fiery molten rock hurled high into the air; of rivers of lava chasing fleeing innocents down sides of mountains; of fire; of unbearable heat; of terror; and of the awesome, uncontrollable power of the earth.
Volcanos are primative. They happen in primative, out-of-the-way places. Where people are civilized, the earth, too, is civilized. Or is it?
It wasn't on May 18, 1980 on a mountain peak in southwestern Washington state, just 40 miles north of Portland, Oregon. That mountain, St. Helens, a lovely, white-clad jewel rising above the surrounding Cascade Mountains, exploded with a vengeance seldom witnessed by people. Magma, hot molten rock, welling up from deep in the earth, laden with steam and gas, created incredible pressure inside the peak. Pressure, which finally could no longer be contained. No one alive today had ever witnesses an explosion such as the one which tore asunder the mountain, that serene Sunday morning.