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U.S. Forestry park rangers visited Harry with the evidence. Network
news reporters interviewed him. He became an overnight media star.
Coal-pile beard, lively bright eyes, wrinkled old face, toothless grin–a
modern day mountain man enjoying the good life in the great Cascades where
he'd lived practically all his life. Not about to put stock in the
new fangled predictions of gloom and doom about his mountain, evidence
notwithstanding. Viewers felt they were witnessing the birth of a
modern folk lore and marveled at his heroic stand against the warnings.
May 18, 1980. Mount St. Helens erupted with the force of a nuclear
explosion. Hovering news cameras mounted on helicopters chronicled
the devastation. When the rescuers were able to fly over Harry's
cabin, all that greeted them was the white ash of a lunar landscape–no
cabin, no trees, no Harry Truman. He died because he hadn't heeded
the warning of the signs.
Mark 13:29
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