text:
Mount St. Helens memories: Ash
Tue., May 18, 2010
(Courtesy of Craig Numata)
Editor's note: Readers submitted the following stories about the ash fallout from the eruption of Mount St. Helens on May 18, 1980.
Greenhouse was like a caveAt first it looked like we were going to have the mother of all thunderstorms. The neighbor's family was trying to plant his garden, but they had to quit by 2:30 p.m., because it was so dark. When the ash started falling, it was like a snowstorm — the sound was dampened. The next morning it looked like a lunar landscape. Walking into our greenhouse was like walking into a cave; it was dark except for light coming in the end walls. It took a week to wash all the ash from the roof so light could come in again. The roses didn't seem to suffer very much. I find it interesting that if you know where to look, you can still find traces of ash along Interstate 90 around Ritzville. Anne Jacobson Williamson
Volcano Posse ventured out after a weekI remember when the ash started falling it looked like snow and we were all enchanted with how light it was. My dad grabbed three of us and headed to the grocery store. It was madness, everyone stocking up on everything. Dad gave each of us a cart and told us to fill them up. By the time we left the store the sky was black even though it was only midday. After a week stuck in the house, my brother and his friends all went out in the ash with bandannas on their faces. They looked like the Volcano Posse. When they allowed us back to school we all had to wear doctor's masks whenever we were coming or going. The fine ash covered everything and we found it in our china cabinet up to 10 years later. Kathleen Sullivan, Spokane
Photo by J. Bart Rayniak / The Spokesman-Review
The old man and Mount St. HelensMy neighbor told me about Mt. St. Helens going off. We stood together looking west, watching the sky darken as the ash cloud approached. Out of curiosity I decided to walk downtown which wasn't far. As I set off I grabbed a dust mask and navy surplus poncho. The sky slowly went black and falling ash began to lightly swirl about. Downtown, the ash had accumulated and a car driving by would leave a rooster tail of ash behind. Most of downtown seemed deserted as people stayed indoors. Yet on the corner of Main and Howard by the Bon Marche sat an elderly man dressed in a suit and wide-brimmed hat. His arms were outstretched before him with his clasped hands resting on a cane. A neat pile of ash circled the brim of his hat. It looked as if some prankster had dumped a bag of Portland cement over the old man. Staring straight ahead, he calmly surveyed the apocalyptic-looking landscape. By this time I was wearing my mask and had the hood of the poncho up. Leaning over to speak with the old man, I asked if he was OK. He said, "Sure! This is nothing. I was in the war!" I suppose he meant World War ll but I didn't ask. I just moved on, marveling at him and what I was seeing. Dave Sweeny
Shoulder to shoulder with mall merchants for clean-upI had just finished planting the garden when the black cloud came over our home in the Paradise Grange area out near Spangle. I had a test kit and found the ash to be neutral, neither an acid nor a base. I planted seeds in various mixtures and all seemed to grow satisfactorily, except for the straight ash, which seemed to choke off air to the soil. We had the children draw facial characteristics on their dust masks, making light of it, so they would not be afraid when they went out to do their chores. The next morning was dull gray everywhere one looked and absolutely silent. I could see tiny bug tracks in the fine dust. I had to find backroads to get in to work as a maintenance supervisor for McCarthy Management, the company that had responsibility for Northtown, University City, the Northtown Office Building and many other commercial properties. The police declared that no one was to travel over the roads due to the dust that was stirred up and the tendency for air filters to get plugged. But the city also said that businesses were not to reopen until they had removed the ash. Fire hoses in the office building that had been undisturbed for many, many years disappeared overnight, taken by those who thought they could just wash the ash down the drain. We could not find hoses, nozzles or fire hydrant wrenches as they had all been snapped up, leaving the suppliers with empty shelves. Washing did not work very well. The ash would move under a direct stream, but it settled out immediately once the force of water stopped. It could not be pushed into piles as the angle of repose was very slight; it just would not stack up. At first I called upon the parking lot cleaning companies that I had always used, but they were overwhelmed. The vacuum trucks would pick up the ash but it was so fine that it just blew back into the air. The merchants at the shopping centers looked to me to get the lots cleaned so that they could re-open their stores. I had a very few maintenance personnel and we just could not do the clean-up alone. After just a few nights we found ourselves shoulder to shoulder with Jim Pounder, Claire Jones from Harvey's, the staff of Pehl's Barber Shop and many other Northtown merchants. We used 3-foot floor squeegees, some brooms and grain shovels to bag up the ash or to shovel it into the back of pickup trucks. Northtown was able to open the next day, although we basically ignored the city's proclamation that the roofs, too, must be cleaned. Northtown was, at the time, only one story, but it would have been too dangerous and would cause too much damage to try to remove ash from the gravel-covered asphalt roof. I had a short telephone interview with a reporter from a shopping center trade journal based in Florida. They were thrilled when I sent them a Band-Aid box of ash that they eagerly passed around and shared among their staffers. Jack Cady
Stuck in Coeur d'Alene, spinning cookiesI had just finished spring semester at the University of Idaho in Moscow. I had gone to Coeur d'Alene with a friend to work on some car projects at his parents' house. We heard the news of the eruption on the radio while working on the cars. The sky turned extremely dark, like the middle of the night, but it was the middle of the afternoon. Then, the ash started to fall like a very fine snowfall. Like a snowfall, everything became extremely quiet and still. There were confusing reports on the radio about inhaling the ash or getting it in your eyes, so we decided to go inside to stay out of it. The ash continued to fall for hours and ended up a few inches deep. Having watched the Apollo moon landings in the '60s on TV, it made me think that this was what being on the moon might be like because of the uniform, grey color. The next day, Highway 95 between Coeur d'Alene and Moscow was closed, so I was stuck at my friend's house for three days. After a few "unscientific" experiments, we soon dismissed the dangers of being exposed to the ash and took one of the older cars, a 1962 Pontiac Catalina, out to explore Coeur d'Alene. I remember it being extremely still and quiet and again, like after a snowstorm, the sounds of the tires and engine were muffled. We spun a few cookies in an empty parking lot and raised an impressive cloud of dust. Eventually 95 opened, and we made our way back to Moscow to our summer jobs. When I got home, my 1969 Chevy Nova was coated in a pristine 2 inches of ash. I scraped the ash into a quart applesauce jar, which I have to this day. Another vivid memory I have is standing in the shower after being out in the dust and watching the grey ash run down the drain. I am always reminded of this whenever I see Mel Brooks' "High Anxiety" shower scene spoofing "Psycho," where the newspaper ink washes down the drain. Erick Keating, Spokane
Just because it looked like snow didn't mean it was coldOur daughter Christi was 3 and our son Jeff was 7. My parents had come from Yakima for the weekend and on Sunday morning we took a walk to Manito Park to see the spring blossoms. As we rested on a hill, we noticed huge, black clouds coming, and decided to hustle back before the storm came… a storm that had not been forecast by Ira Joe Fisher on KHQ. We arrived home just as the ash started falling, and my husband, certain that since it looked like snow, it must be cold, went to the basement and started a fire, which quickly drove us out of the house with the heat. We finally turned on the news and heard about the eruption and that no-one was supposed to be on the highway. My mom, a teacher, was certain that was incorrect, so they went ahead and packed up to go. About the time they were ready to leave, we got a call from my father-in-law in Sunnyside, who told us to have them stay put because things were a mess there, too. As it turned out, my parents were here for five days, helping us shovel, hose down, and deal with the ash in whatever way we were told that day, wearing masks to cover our faces the whole time. Silence, grey landscapes, no bees, empty streets, and heavy, heavy ash… it was a very confusing time with conflicting information constantly being broadcast about the effects of the ash. But it was also a community-building time, with neighbors helping neighbors, friends and relatives working together, and a time to realize that we are not in charge — Mother Nature has the final say. Jan Erickson
Forced togetherness led to marriage proposalI had been dating my wife, Renae, for several months. She lived in Liberty Lake and would come into town to go to church with us. There was a ladies' tea on Sunday afternoon, May 18. Her mother had come into town to go to the tea, but when news of the eruption came and the sky to the west started to darken, her mom left the tea early to get back home. Renae said she'd be back home that evening. By late afternoon, it became apparent she wasn't going to make it out to Liberty Lake. I was shortly out of college and still living with my parents, so Renae stayed in town overnight in my sister's room and we figured she would leave in the morning. Well, that didn't happen. She wasn't able to leave for three days. Meanwhile, I was in my first year as the science teacher at Northwest Christian High School. While the ladies were at the tea and I heard the ash was coming, I got some tape and laid it on some flat surfaces outside, sticky side up, in hopes of catching a little bit of ash to take to school so we could look at it under the microscope. By the time the ladies got home, the tape was hidden by the ash. So I put out some jar lids with water to help catch it. By later in the day, the jar lids were buried and I just went out with a jar and started scooping ash into it. By the time school reopened, none of the kids wanted to see any more ash for the rest of their lives, so we just kept a jar of it around for awhile. The first day, the sky was darker than the darkest night. There was a street light not much more than 75 feet from the front window and you could only seem a dim lightish area in the middle of the day. By the second day it had lightened up a bit, but looked like the densest fog you had ever seen. Visibility stopped at the end of the yard. While we were waiting to see what was going to happen with the ash and the eruption, we listened to the radio. A friend was one of the news guys for KSPO, as I recall, a 24-hour news station. They were giving updates on what should be done, and the reports from the news feeds and police and state patrol were contradictory. First someone would announce that the ash was acidic, so go out and get it off your cars. Then an hour later we were told that it wasn't acidic, but don't brush it off your car or it would scratch it up. After the worst was over, we were told to please wash everything down the storm drains with hoses. Then the plea came to not wash anything down the storm drains because they were now clogged up with the ash as it had practically turned to cement in the drains. Also at KSPO, there were just three people in the station because it was a Sunday afternoon. Those three were stuck there for two or three days because no one could get in or out, but they stayed on the air, gallantly trying to keep the station running 24-hour news. They all got rather punchy from lack of sleep and the only things to eat were in the vending machine. Anyway, during those 3 days, with Renae in the same clothes every day, or borrowed clothes from my sister, I looked over at her and said to myself, "You know… I think I could really get used to this." Well, I asked her to marry me on Labor Day weekend and we were married December 20, 1980. This year we'll celebrate 30 years of marriage and I've loved every single day of it… and it's all because of Mount St. Helens. Scotte Meredith
Air-filter sale garnered national prizeAs manager of General Tire at Riverside and Division I sponsored a small company picnic at one of our workers' homes west of Spokane, close to Reardan. We were outside playing volleyball in the sun when to the west appeared a dark thunderstorm-looking front. We kept playing until the cloud was above us and dust particles from the cloud started landing on our sweaty skin. Surprisingly, our skin started tingling and itching where exposed to the falling ash. Someone ran inside and turned on the TV and there it was, the eruption. We all decided to head home as the bright sunshine had given way quickly to a dusty darkness. I drove my Camaro, headlights on ,as fast as I could down the Seven Mile Road, with dust swirling around the cars taillights directly in front of me. The next morning we awoke to our Shadle neighborhood covered in a gray layer of slippery ash over an inch deep. Even the newly bright-green locusts across the street were a grimy gray as there was not a wisp of wind to wipe them clean. I went outside and scooped enough ash with a dust pan to fill two quart jars, and I still have some of that slippery, gray, talcum-like ash. Sheriff Erickson was amazingly cool on the radio and when he gave the approval for some to travel, I went down to the General Tire Store. The radio said business owners should wash the ash down the drains so I got a 3-inch fire hose from the fire department and two of us held on to it as best we could and washed down the parking lot. Trouble was, the ash businesses were washing down the drains was so thick it started plugging them up. So we got the word on the radio to stop immediately. Now we think, why not shovel it up, as I now had a full crew of hard-working guys to help. The problem with this idea was the ash would not scoop — it was just to slippery. It flowed in front of the shovels like so much thick gray water. Large floor squeegies worked well, except where did the ash go but down the drains? So we stopped that as well. The new question became how can a tire store survive with very few people driving in the area. Then I remembered a recently received extra shipment of 2,000 air filters that I ordered for a sales contest from AC Delco. Up went the air filter sale sign on Division and in a matter of days they were all sold since car and truck air filters were plugging up and ruining engines faster than you could say "pay me now or pay me later." Anyway I won the national contest, which was good for a red sleeping bag. A week later my wife had our first baby and I can remember driving mother and daughter home from Deaconess with clouds of ash still billowing from the cars in front of me as I drove down Lincoln through downtown Spokane. It was a time to remember. Dennis Horlacher, Spokane
Joke from West-Sider fell flatThough I was born and raised in Spokane, I was living on a hill in Bellevue that Sunday. From our home, my family and I watched the eruption plume heading a bit north, but mostly eastward. After watching TV news into the night, I called my sister in Spokane the next morning, laughingly/sarcastically saying, "Well, have you got your shovels out?" She replied, "That is not funny!" Little did I know then what incredible effect the resulting ash-fall had on Central and Eastern Washington. My sister's husband owned his own Spokane business at the time, and (despite the warnings to do otherwise) drove there early Monday. He called home, later that morning, complaining, "None of my clients are answering their phones." Janet Orr, Spokane
Girl Scouts instructed to cover and runI was 9 years old and returning home from Girl Scout camp when Mount St. Helens erupted. We were on the road back to Spokane when the sky became dark, the air smelled like sulfur and the ash began to fall. While this was going on, one of the troop leaders who was driving turned on the radio when the announcer interrupted the song to make the urgent announcement about how "Mount St. Helens blew its stack." Before the car approached our houses, we were advised to cover our nose, mouth and run as fast as we could to prevent breathing in the falling ash. My turn came and I remember taking a couple of big deep breaths, covering half of my face, running and my mom quickly opened the door when I ran inside. As a result of the eruption, we kids got 10 days off from school and our relatives in Minnesota were amazed at the ash we collected when we visited them a few months later. Kristie Thill
Family warned of 'hot ash' falling from the skyMy family, husband, Jim, daughter, Vanessa (age 3 1/2), and son, Brent (age 15 months), lived on Silver Lake outside of Medical Lake when Mount St. Helens erupted. We were sitting out on the deck, watching the boats and water skiers on the lake on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. At the south end of the lake, it looked like a dark cloud filling the sky. We thought it was just a thunderstorm coming and didn't have the TV or radio on. Our phone rang and it was a friend of ours who said that Mount St. Helens had erupted and that black cloud at the end of the lake was the ash coming our way. They said to get our dog in the house and car in the garage because "hot" ash would be falling outside. Of course, it wasn't hot ash, but it became darker and that gray stuff starting falling out of the sky. When we got up in the morning, my husband said he had to go work (he was an accountant at Lakeland Village then) because most people wouldn't be able to make it to work, especially the ones living in Spokane. I begged him not to go but he was such a conscientious employee, he said he had to and would be very careful. After he got there, he called and said he couldn't even see the road with all the ash flying as cars went by. My daughter wanted to go outside so I dressed her up like winter, totally covered with goggles over her eyes. She looked like an alien. We still didn't know how ash would affect us (breathing it, etc.) so I was not going to let her inhale it or get it on any part of her body. I saved a small baby food jar of ash for each of my children. I still have them. It was an unbelievable and unforgettable experience. Marilyn Kile
News story written gets lots of attention"What have you gotten us into?" My wife's shout as I stomped off the dust was half in jest. Our move to Spokane at Christmastime 1979 had been a deliberate selection from three other city options. Hoosiers at heart, we had chosen Spokane as the town where we would raise our girls following a career hiatus in the Los Angeles area. Our gorgeous hiking spring morning at Riverside State Park had turned to an ash mash of total darkness by 3 p.m. Beyond imagination. We hadn't heard. Not until daughter Vicki's date for a movie called to cancel did we learn anything about this momentous event. "Okay," she simply uttered, and hung up. "He said we couldn't go because of the ash storm. Mom … what's an ash storm?" During the following days we found out. A bit fearful by the great unknown, and by orders from the Sheriff's office not to venture out, we stared at a world of talc that covered everything. With nothing else to do, I began to write. For all those friends and colleagues in California who would be wondering, I wrote a summary of our experience and sent it to The Foothills Ledger, a flourishing newspaper with a distribution of several hundred thousand around the edges of megalopolis. To my amazement, they used it, printing the story word-for-word above the masthead on the front page. I had always assumed that space was reserved for catastrophes like war and plague. I guess the editor thought this was close enough. Washington State had become big news to everyone down south. From that article, I received two inquiries from other families who wanted to leave the L.A. area. One of them chose Spokane and moved here in the summer. Evidently Mount St. Helens' big blow had been no deterrent. I'm glad we lived here for the experience. In the years since, I've told friends that I considered anyone who went through the ash-storm qualified as a native. Of course, that included the Grizzle family. Charles Grizzle, Spokane
Daughter didn't understand restrictionMy daughter was 2 1/2 when the eruption happened and she kept asking why she couldn't go outside to play since it wasn't raining — that was the criteria for having to stay in the house. Just because the yard was full of volcanic ash, just didn't make sense in her little mind. Janice Holcomb
Racing pigeon survived ash journeyI of course had been watching the news concerning Mount St. Helens erupting, although I certainly didn't think it would affect us. Then the concern about what the mountain would do went on the back burner when my husband Lyle unexpectedly ended up in the hospital. The morning it blew, I was at the hospital visiting him when a nurse came in his room and told me I'd better follow her. We went into a vacant room on the west side of the building and looked out the window — what we saw was eerily mesmerizing and frightening. It was a huge cloud in the distance and it was coming toward us. It was pretty obvious that I needed to get home so I grabbed my 6-year-old son, Peter, kissed my recovering husband goodbye and took off for home; good thing, too, because minutes after we got home the ash reached us and it began to look as if it was snowing. One of the things my husband had been talking about that morning was his racing pigeons that had been released in Oregon and would be on their way back to their home loft in our backyard. Some had already gotten here and were safe, but some were still out there so of course we were concerned. My son and I couldn't leave the house so I spent the day wandering around indoors and looking out the window. That afternoon I just happened to be looking out our kitchen window when I saw something land on our fence and then drop to the ground. I thought to myself that it couldn't be one of our pigeons — nothing could have made it through the ash. But when I went out to see, it indeed was one of the females. She was absolutely exhausted. I picked her up to see how she was and I couldn't believe what I saw, her eyes where mostly sealed with ash dust as was one of her nostrils. She had flown for hours in those hellish conditions and somehow made it. I took her into the loft, cleaned her up as best I could and put her at the water. She did drink but was too weak and tired to eat so I just left her to rest. Happily, she recovered and eventually went on to race again. Holly Bickford, Spokane Valley
Cat didn't appreciate helping handI was 9 years old, living on Orchard Prairie in north Spokane. My dad and I were headed downtown to pick my mom up from work in the early afternoon. A dark, ominous cloud approached from the west and the news began rattling off precautions. I had a cat that had given birth to a litter of kittens under a shrub in our front yard. Concerned, I carried the kitties to our barn. No sooner had I tucked them in than the momma cat carried each one back to the shrub by the scruff of the neck. Probably around 3 p.m. we had to leave to pick up mom. By the time we got downtown, it was so dark headlights were needed and light flakes of ash had begun to fall. It looked like snow, but the temperature was in the 60s. And eerie quiet engulfed the city as the ash began to accumulate, swirling under the passing cars and obscuring visibility. By the time we got home, it was very dark and I was allowed to bring my kittens indoors. This is where we all stayed for the next several days as school and all other business in town was cancelled. I recall our next venture out to be to the fire station to pick up our face masks. The novelty of these wore off quickly as they were very itchy and difficult to breathe in. Lori Buratto, Spokane Valley
Government map of ash-fall wrongOn a lovely spring day, Mary Jo and I watched the dark cloud headed our way. "Looks like a big storm is coming." "It might have something to do with Mount St. Helens erupting." "Really?" Our geolgist neighbor Mike joined our watch. He rushed back in his house and pulled out an official U.S. pamphlet. There was a map showing where Mount St. Helens ash would land. We laughed at the government study that showed none for the Spokane area. I guess someone forgot to note that the winds blow easterly across the state. We retreated to our homes. As the dark cloud blotted out the sun, an eerie silence arrived. Two birds shot across the sky, seconds before the ash began to fall like snow, making a grey blanket covering all of the spring colors. It was as if someone had made the world a black and white TV. Carol Numata
People clamored for newspapers on MondayIt was Sunday morning, a little after 8 a.m., and we were on our way to Liberty Lake for a little spring fishing. We got in the car and noticed black, ominous clouds coming in from the west. What was supposed to be a warm, beautiful, sunny, day suddenly resembled tornado weather. We turned on the car radio and heard a grave-voiced announcer talk about a volcano exploding on the west side of Washington; there were reports that an ash cloud was drifting across the state, bringing everything to a standstill. The announcer stated a crop duster had crashed from engine failure, due to the ash clogging the plane's air intake, and authorities were advising people to go home and button up their houses to keep the ash out. We turned around and went home, parking the cars in the garage, and sealing the cracks around the windows and doors with rags and towels. By then the light from the sun had faded, and the streetlights had come on. Large flakes of gray ash, illuminated by street lights, resembled snow falling on an unseasonably warm night. Before it was done, there were several inches of powdery ash covering everything. Incredibly light, it puffed up with each step and created "rooster tails" behind you when you drove through it. The next morning, I got up a 5 a.m. to deliver my newspaper routes. The Spokesman-Review had left face masks on top of the newspapers for their carriers to use as they delivered the newspapers. I slowly drove down deserted streets, as if I was the only person in a great moonscape. I could see excited people run to their front windows, watching me deliver papers to their neighbors, and some ran out to the street in bathrobes and boots trying to buy a paper. Regretfully, I had to turn them away because I only had enough for my regular customers. I was eventually able to deliver all my papers by 9 a.m., although I had to pull over several times to knock the ash out of my car's air filter, so the car would stay running. The Spokesman Review continued to put out papers, and the carriers continued to deliver them, throughout the days and weeks to follow. I never did get all the ash out of the air vents of my old '69 Dodge Dart. Sharon O'Brien, Spokane
Ash couldn't stop Don KardongI was living and working in north Spokane. In addition to remembering the blackest sky I had ever seen, I vividly remember Don Kardong running/jogging in the ash into the small grocery store where I worked. At the time we didn't know the health hazards of the ash, and when asked about potential health hazards to his lungs, Don just retorted something along the lines of, "Humpff…what's the big deal?" I'm assuming he was right all these years later. Jan Oman, Spokane
Cooperation sped street-cleaning choreWhat we thought were storm clouds in the west were actually clouds of ash. Soon a layer of fine ash began to settle on everything outdoors. As it grew deeper and deeper, it seemed to silence eveything. Birds were quiet, and moving vehicles were scarce. Local stores sold every dust mask in stock. When the ash finally stopped falling, Marvin took a push broom and went to the east end of our block. Knocking on the doors of the first two houses, he recruited help in hosing down the sidewalks and streets, then sweeping the ash toward the west. Dr. Orland Scott lived in one of the two first homes, and he apologized for not being able to help, but he had to go to the hospital. He did take time to snap a few pictures before he left. Moving down the block, helpers, hoses, and brooms were added at each house, and it wasn't long before the crew reached the west end of the block and left theash in a pile in the gutter, to be picked up later by city trucks. We had the first clean block in Kellogg. Marvin has a five-gallon bucket of ash as a souvenir. Marvin and Janet Lake, Smelterville
Four 'ash days' off of workSunday afternoon, 2ish. Woke up, looked outside, saw afternoon turning to night. Confused. Worked the grave the night before on the legal offender admission unit at Eastern State Hospital. Sometimes the diurnal/nocturnal cycles got confused upon waking. But this was different. Watched it darken outside through the bedroom window, got up, went out on the street with the neighbors. Dude. Then the ash started falling like snowflakes from hell. Soft, quiet, dry, falling and falling. Next day garden hosing a dirty world. Off the roof, off the cars, down the street. Took forever. Stubborn Pacific Rim volcanic ash. Don't drive in it the news droids said. Don't breath it without masks or the microscopic silicates will switchblade your lungs and hamburger your throat. Got four "ash days" off from my state job. If you didn't live in Medical Lake (I was in Spokane Valley which we called "the Valley" back then) you didn't go in to work. Coulda used the overtime. Went to classes at Eastern Washington University, my hypochondriacal physiological psych prof spewed the Deadly Ash Microsilicate Lung Invasion Apocalyptic Grand Unified Theory upon us. Mask up, man! My ex-girlfriend called bugging me for big bucks to get her '65 VW Bug engine rebuilt. The ash trashed. I told her no, not my prob. Ask new guy to step up. She yelled at me but unlike her geological proxy, Mount St. Helens, she didn't exactly settle down with the occasional steam venting. Life in the ash lane. Spokane as crematorium. Unforgettable. Robert Salsbury
Ash destroyed VW BugOn that bright, Sunday morning, I was working at Baskin and Robbins on South Grand. I heard the radio account of the eruption and shared the information with the customers who came in for a treat. Nobody seemed the least worried until the sky turned black. I excitedly set out empty tubs to catch the falling ash and closed the store early when the warning alarms sounded. I never made it back to collect the tubs. My air-cooled VW Bug died a few weeks later from driving home in the ash-covered streets. Christopher Micek, Spokane
Rumors of permanent evacuation swirledWe were working in the yard when about 3 p.m. the sky turned blacker than coal. Hearing the news of the St. Helens blast we immediately turned on our sprinkler system. Ash started raining from the sky. The next news said to wash the gray ash down the drain. A day or so later reports said, stop, it will clog all of the drains. Continued conflicting reports hit the airwaves as officials had no experience dealing with a volcanic eruption. Living in fear of reported engine failures, dangerous breathing exposure, and a potential second explosion, jailed us at home for almost two weeks. Store shelves were empty of bread, milk etc. as commerce had put on the same brakes as the residents of the Spokane area. Rumors of total devastation permeated the news and talk on the streets. Will the ash and destruction ever leave, or will we have to evacuate permanently? To think of a total loss of home and property grated on the citizens' nerves. Recovery came gradually with the exception of gray ash laying on the ground for over 10 years. My reminder is housed in two large antique jars of gray Mount St. Helens ash sitting on a cabinet in my office. Certain events are expected in one's life on this earth. The blast on May 18, 1980 was a dramatic extra. Jock and Eileen Swanstrom, Spokane Valley
Sold ash like Kool-AidWe lived in Nampa, Idaho, and I was a small child. But me and my brother and our grandma used jars to collect the ash and we sold it like you did at a Kool-Aid stand. We must have sold gallons of baby food jars full of it. Recently my grandmother was moved to assisted living, and as we were preparing for her estate sale, I ran across a gallon ice cream bucket full of Mount St. Helen's ash. My brother and I had a great talk about it, remembering scooping it up and jarring it to be sold. We kept enough for each of our kids to have a piece of history. I was telling my grandma we found it, she said she actually had people come back over the years and ask if she had any more. She also ran a flea market and that was a hot item on her shelf. Brenda Evans, Post Falls
Clay figures waiting to be paintedWhen we heard that Mount St. Helens had erupted Sunday morning, we immediately called my brother and his family who lived on the Skamania River near Washougal. Our concern was for them, because they were so close to the mountain. They just reported that they heard the explosion, but there were no other problems in their area. Sunday progressed as usual. However, as we sat in our chapel around 3 p.m., we noticed through the curtains that it seemed to be getting dark outside. By the time church was out at 4, we had to use our headlights to drive home. The ash was really thick in the air and it smelled like sulfur outside. Of course we were glued to the radio and TV to find out what we should be doing. The next morning when we got up, the world looked like gray, clay pottery figures waiting for color to be added. Our forest and pond looked surreal. Two deer came down to the water to get a drink — they, too, looked like clay colored animals. At the time, I taught at Ferris High School and was told the Spokane County sheriff had declared a state of emergency, so we did not have school for the week. No one was to drive their cars. In our location near Sacheen Lake, we had one-eighth of an inch and were told Spokane had one half an inch of ash. On Tuesday, my husband ventured out 10 miles to the local quick-stop, which was packed with people. Of course the first things to go were beer and cigarettes. He got us the very essentials — root beer and ice cream. He came home with enough to last us a good week. On Thursday the 22nd it rained a little, which helped clear the air. We were all told to stay at home unless absolutely necessary — no one knew for sure what damage the ash was going to do to our cars, let alone our lungs. On Saturday, we went to town to get dust masks from the local fire station. Everywhere we went, we saw people wearing the masks — it was a curious sight. Stores sold the masks for 99 cents each and many quickly ran out. Even though we had food and water supplies, it was still a fearful time, because we did not know what damage the ash was causing. Monday the 26th we still did not go back to school. On the next day, school started again. We were told we could not have any PE classes outdoors, so scrambled to get all classes playing volleyball together all week. Everyone had their ash stories to tell and we survived and got back to normal schedules. However, for years to come, we all were still cleaning ash out of our rain gutters and every other nook and cranny that it could sift into. It was quite an experience considering we lived so far away from the mountain. Janet Kemp
TV warned of ash cloud approachingWe lived on acreage near Cheney at the time. Although the explosion took place at about 8:30 a.m., we didn't hear about it until afternoon. We had dinner at Mr. Steak after church, noticed how dark the sky was getting and assumed a thunderstorm was coming. We stopped at Grandpa and Grandma's house on our way home, and the television program they were watching was interrupted with an announcement that the ash cloud was coming our way. We hurried home and put the cars in the garage. When we got up the next morning and looked outside, it seemed like we were living on a different planet. We had about an inch of gray ash covering everything. We wore masks over our noses and mouths when we went outdoors, schools and many workplaces closed, and the big clean-up job began. Colleen Prophet
Ash prompted large babies?We were outside that Saturday morning doing yard work at our home we still live in today. Our two young daughters were riding tricycles and drawing on the sidewalk with colored chalk. I was 8 months pregnant with our son. I noticed the sky was getting very black and thought "thunderstorm" since that was my experience growing up in Kentucky. A sudden black sky usually meant severe thunderstorm or tornado. Soon the air looked thicker and denser and particles were in it as if a huge fire were nearby. We finally went inside to listen to news and heard about the volcano's eruption. We kept the girls inside the rest of the day and bought masks by late that afternoon. We were indoors a lot the next month with so much ash in the air. I painted the whole upstairs and had our 10 lb. son, Nick, on June 24, 1980, five weeks after Mount St. Helens erupted. The joke around Sacred Heart Hospital was that ash got into the scales since there were several large babies born around then. When we re-roofed our home several years later, there was still so much ash under the cedar shakes that were torn off and down in the attic. Each of our adult children has a baby food jar filled with Mount St. Helens ash. Betty Pontarolo
Helping with recovery in blast zone a memorable experienceFor me it all began that afternoon about 3 p.m. I was in my yard when I noticed something landing on my head, a gray, gritty material that kept falling steadily and more intensely within minutes. All of us who witnessed this event remember how strange it was. The ash kept falling throughout the day and night. By the next day, everywhere you looked, the ground and the trees, everything was covered in gray ash. On Monday I drove out to Cheney, where I was a teacher, and heard that the students wouldn't be coming because of the ash dust and the ventilation system filters were plugged. Within days we were told that the remainder of the school year was canceled. The teachers and staff reported to work when possible to complete end-of-school-year duties. At home, my neighbors and I worked for many hours cleaning our houses and brooming and washing down the street to control the dust after that. What happened after that became an even more memorable experience. As a member of the Army Reserve Corps of Engineers, I received orders to report to the Portland District in June 1980. I soon was involved in assisting with the disaster recovery operations there. While performing my duties I spent two weeks within the restricted Green Zone, a 14-mile radius of the volcano. I went into some homes where the debris from the pyroclastic mud flow came up over 4 feet inside the rooms. I saw an upright piano pushed up to the ceiling, tilted and frozen in place, and children's toys on top of the dried mud. In addition, I have ash samples from the Green Zone, Yakima and Spokane, which show the variation in the ash as it traveled from the blast area. I also have samples of the pumice stone from the crater itself that was carried downstream. I saw pumice stone samples on the Columbia that were the size of beach balls, which had been carried downstream from the crater all the way to the Port of Portland. The immensity of the Mount St. Helens eruption was a truly memorable event to all who witnessed it. Ron Cauvel, Spokane
Metal-detecting trip turned into wild rideThat a.m. my husband, our son and wife and granddaughter were metal-detecting in Rathdrum Park. Before we left home, our granddaughter said we should take a jar for ash, which we did. At 3 p.m. we could see these black clouds and figured we should start home. By the time we reached Moab Junction we couldn't see a thing. I don't know to this day how my husband managed to get us back without hitting something or being hit by someone. We didn't get any ash in our jar, but there was plenty around after getting back – for weeks and months, actually. For years, when traveling to Seattle from Spokane, there was ash along the roadways. It sure made gorgeous vases, jewelry, bowls, etc. Later, we survived a hurricane in Hawaii. Enough! Celeste Frost, Spokane
The old man and the ashMy neighbor told me about Mt. St. Helens going off. We stood together looking west, watching the sky darken as the ash cloud approached. Out of curiosity I decided to walk downtown which wasn't far. As I set off I grabbed a dust mask and navy surplus poncho. The sky slowly went black and falling ash began to lightly swirl about. Downtown, the ash had accumulated and a car driving by would leave a rooster tail of ash behind. Most of downtown seemed deserted as people stayed indoors. Yet on the corner of Main and Howard by the Bon Marche sat an elderly man dressed in a suit and wide-brimmed hat. His arms were outstretched before him with his clasped hands resting on a cane. A neat pile of ash circled the brim of his hat. It looked as if some prankster had dumped a bag of Portland cement over the old man. Staring straight ahead, he calmly surveyed the apocalyptic-looking landscape. By this time I was wearing my mask and had the hood of the poncho up. Leaning over to speak with the old man, I asked if he was OK. He said, "Sure! This is nothing. I was in the war!" I suppose he meant World War ll, but I didn't ask. I just moved on, marveling at him and what I was seeing. Dave Sweeny
Raccoon look-alikesWe lived on West Jackson Avenue in Spokane when the mountain blew. We had two black cats, mother and son, and they were outside when it happened. When they came in that evening, they were gray cats with black circles around their eyes and mouth. They looked like raccoons. The strange thing was they didn't recognize each other and started hissing and spitting. Have you ever tried washing ash off a cat? Mollie Shane
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BARISAL, Feb 9, 2018 (BSS) – Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina has come forward to the help of Lucy Helen Frances Holt, a British citizen who is living in Bangladesh for 57 years.
Sheikh Hasina on Thursday handed over the passport with a 15-year multiple Bangladeshi visa to Lucy, ending her long ordeal for visa renewal every year.
"Our honourable Prime Minister handed over the passport with a 15-year multiple Bangladeshi visa to Lucy just before the public meeting at Bangabanadhu Udyan in the divisional city on Thursday afternoon," PM's Press Secretary Ihsanul Karim told BSS.
He said while handing over the passport, the premier talked to the 87-year-old Lucy, a humanitarian who is now working at Oxford Mission in Barisal city.
"She (Lucy) was very impressed with talking to the prime minister," the press secretary said.
Lucy, daughter of John Holt and Francese Holt, was born in the British town of St Helens on December 16 in 1930. After completing 12th grade, she first visited Bangladesh in 1960.
Lucy joined Barisal Oxford Mission that year and taught primary school children. She never returned home and has been staying in Bangladesh as she fell in love with the country and the people.
She worked in Jessore, Khulna, Naogaon, Dhaka and Gopalganj for 57 years. Lucy, who went on retirement in 2004 returned to Barisal Oxford Mission the same year.
Now she is providing English lessons and mental growth to the distressed children. Besides, Lucy is collecting fund from the rich people for the helpless children.
The celibate Lucy also made outstanding contributions to Bangladesh's liberation war as she took care of the war-wounded people.
At that time, Lucy taught English at Jessore Catholic Church. When the war started, all except Lucy went to Khulna for safe shelter after closing the church.
During the war, she worked at Fatema Hospital and provided nursing to the war-wounded people where the doctors were amazed at her generosity.
Barisal Metropolitan Police honoured Lucy on December 16 last for her invaluable contributions to the liberation war.
Lucy's last wish is to be buried on the Bangladesh soil and before the death, she wants to get citizenship of this country.
She said she applied for citizenship for a number of times as she has to spend a huge amount of money every year for visa renewal.
"Last year, I spent Taka 38,000 for visa renewal which is a huge amount of money for me as I'm now getting only 75 Pounds (equivalent to Tk 7,500) every month as the retirement allowance," she said.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
'A Fine Deceit' – Devlin O'Neill and Georgia Lynd.
Bodice ripper.
Historical romance.
iUniverse, Lincoln, 2007.
From Chapter 1 –
His fingers shook as he grappled with his purse and pulled out a
silver coin. He held it up and she laughed, an airy, tinkling sound,
and reached down to take it. As she grasped the coin she leaned over
and her lips brushed his cheek, like butterfly wings against a stone,
and he gasped. Then she dropped the coin into her bodice and twirled
away. Drake's eyes followed her, and he forgot to blink until the
men's chuckles gave way to raucous laughter.
"All right, you lot. That's enough."
"We was only looking, Captain. Like we was told to."
"Wharton's right, Captain. Only you never told us what to do
if they wants to do more than look."
Drake stood and straightened his tunic. "You'll keep on
looking, Prager. I'm going for a piss."
"We'll just keep a-looking whilst you're gone, then."
"You do that."
He took a deep breath and concentrated on walking a straight
path toward the trees, but paused when Anjay stalked from between two
wagons on the other side of the circle and grabbed the arm of the
girl who had danced for him. The man waved a finger in her face as he
pulled her back the way he had come. A small boy sat on a wooden box
and watched, and Drake smiled as he walked over to him.
"Anjay seemed very displeased with that girl." Drake shrugged
when the boy made no sign he heard, only continued to stare until
Drake pulled out his purse. "Is she Anjay's wife?" He held out a
copper coin, and kept hold when the boy grabbed it.
"His sister, Vittani."
Drake let go of the coin and nodded. "What's your name?"
"I am called Sancho."
"I'm Drake."
"I know. Anjay is my uncle. He will be chief after his father
"He'll be a good one."
"Yes. He is strong."
"He is that." Drake touched his hat brim. "Good night,
The boy nodded and looked away as Drake paced on toward the
woods. He stepped behind the first trees and then quietly but quickly
skirted the clearing, hidden by the foliage and the deepening
twilight. Anjay stood in the half-circle of light cast by an oil lamp
that hung by a line from a wagon box, and gesticulated as he scolded
Vittani in the Romany tongue. She stamped her foot and bashed closed
fists against her hips as she argued, then pulled Drake's coin from
her bodice and brandished it at her brother. He growled and snatched
it away, and flung it into the woods. She stared for a moment, then
pressed her fingers to her lips and began to weep when Anjay shouted
at her and unbuckled a strap from a bundle of harness tack. He
shouted again and pointed at a wooden crate, and Vitanni whined,
stomped her foot again but not very hard, and swiped wetness off her
smooth cheek as she knelt and leaned forward over the box.
Drake held fast to the bole of an elm, mouth open and dry, as
he gazed upon the scene. Vitanni's back was turned to him, and black
eyes glistened as she peered over her shoulder. Anjay leaned down and
shook the leather strap an inch from her nose while he continued to
scold, and then whisked up her dress and underskirts. She wailed and
ankle bracelets jangled as delicate toes pounded the grass, but she
made no move to rise from her ignominious position. Drake covered his
mouth to still a lascivious moan at the sight of Vitanni's slender
limbs and plump backside, all quite naked, warm and glowing in the
lamplight. Anjay raised the strap high and lashed the round orbs of
her behind, and Drake took a half step toward her when she squealed,
but then shook his head and clutched the tree more tightly.
Leather rose and fell a dozen times, each sharp crack
painting a hot stripe across tender flesh and drawing a sorrowful
screech from the girl's throat. She writhed and kicked, and Drake
licked his lips as he caught glimpses of feminine charms, unwittingly
displayed in her frenzy. He gritted his teeth and adjusted his
codpiece to accommodate an involuntary reaction, and released a long-
held breath when Anjay stopped and reattached the strap to its
Vitanni whimpered and sobbed as Anjay replaced her skirts and
pulled her to her feet. She leaned on his chest and nodded
continually as he spoke to her softly, and after a few moments he
helped her climb into the back of the wagon. He shook his head and
ambled toward the lamp, then stopped and his gaze swept the trees.
Drake stood motionless, staring straight into the Gypsy's eyes, but
at that instant a horse whickered and hobbled into Anjay's line of
vision. He took a few paces and patted the horse's withers, glanced
about once more, then turned and went back inside the wagon circle.
Drake took a deep breath and walked a few feet deeper into
the woods and unfastened his codpiece. Water arched like a fountain
from its stiff and hardened source, and he shut his eyes to view once
more Vitanni's soft and beguiling hind parts so harshly treated. He
shook himself and then made his way through the trees to the path
from whence he had come.
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text:
By now everyone knows that smoking is not a healthy habit, to say the least. I am not sure, however, that many people, especially smokers, know just how deadly smoking really is. Most people associate smoking with lung cancer but how many know that lung cancer is one of the worst forms of cancer, with only a 15% survival rate after five years? How many people think about the connection between smoking and heart disease? These are only the most obvious health problems caused by smoking. There are a whole host of others, as related in this article from Yahoo News.
Fifty years after the first U.S. Surgeon General's report in 1964 warned about the link between smoking and lung cancer, research continues to identify more diseases that are directly caused by smoking.
Now, liver and colorectal cancers have been added to the list of cancers for which there's sufficient data to infer smoking is not merely linked to but actually can cause the diseases, according to the newest Surgeon General's report released today (Jan 17).
Cigarette smoke contains thousands of compounds, including 69 known to be carcinogens, chemicals that are directly involved in causing cancer. Carcinogens can result in tumors by damaging the genome or disrupting the cell's metabolic processes.
Smoking is responsible for more than 90 percent of lung cancers. But traces of tobacco carcinogens have been found in other organs as well. For example, pieces of DNA bound to carcinogens have been found in breast tissue and breast milk, according to the report authors, who reviewed new research over the recent years.
"These carcinogens are absorbed systemically. They don't just stay in the lungs. They are carried through the blood to many organs," said Stanton Glantz, director of the Center for Tobacco Control Research and Education at the University of California at San Francisco, who was not involved in compiling the report.
In colorectal cancer, tumors often originate in the glands and the cells that cover the inside of the bowel. Carcinogens in tobacco smoke can reach the large bowel through the blood supply and disrupt regular functioning of the cells. These cells then might form polyps, which can progress into malignant, or cancerous, tumors.
Reviewing large previous studies, the researchers found an increased risk of colon and rectal cancer, particularly after smoking for two or more decades. In some studies, smokers were up to twice as likely to develop colorectal cancer as nonsmokers.
The report authors also looked at other cancers such as prostate cancer and concluded that smoking is not a cause for this type of cancer, although it increases risks of dying for those diagnosed with prostate cancer.
Examining breast cancer, the researchers concluded the evidence suggests smoking can cause the disease.
"Even a finding that is 'suggestive,' is a pretty strong finding," Glantz told LiveScience. "If I give a glass filled with clear liquid and say, this might give you breast cancer but I'm not absolutely positive, I don't think you want to drink the liquid."
Other new entries in the official list of smoking-caused diseases include Type 2 diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, erectile dysfunction, macular degeneration that can blind older people, and cleft palate birth defects.
"In addition to carcinogens in the cigarette smoke, there's a lot of inflammatory agents," Glantz said. Smoking causes these diseases partly "by triggering inflammatory processes and increasing the general inflammatory environment."
Looking over the past 50 years of the war on smoking, the report authors warned that the disease risks from smoking by women have risen sharply and are now equal to those of men for lung cancer, and pulmonary and heart diseases.
Since the landmark 1964 report, nearly 21 million people have died prematurely because of smoking or exposure to secondhand smoke, according to the report.
Heart and metabolic diseases attributed to smoking accounted for 40 percent of tobacco-related deaths, the report revealed.
"This is very important. When people think about smoking they usually just think cancer. Most people don't really appreciate how big the risks of heart diseases are," Glantz said.
I am glad I never started smoking, though I am not sure if I deserve any credit. Both my parents smoked and it may be that not smoking was my particular way of rebelling. In any case, the experience of growing up surrounded by cigarette smoke has given me such an aversion to the smell of smoke that I cannot stand to be in the same room as someone smoking. I guess that I am lucky not to be tempted into such an unhealthy and addictive habit.
Related articles
- Smoking Report: Why 'Lighting Up' Causes So Many Diseases (livescience.com)
- Smoking Is Worse Than You Imagined (workers-compensation.blogspot.com)
- Surgeon General: Cigarettes Cause More Health Problems Than Just Lung Cancer (voanews.com)
- Cigarettes Tied to More Deaths, Types of Illness (online.wsj.com)
- 50 years after the flawed U.S. Surgeon General's report, ALL health problems are still being blamed on smoking (sott.net)This is a different take on smoking.
- Renewed call for more smoking restrictions echoed in Hawaii (kitv.com) I am not very enthusiastic about restricting smoking. I hate it, but I wouldn't try to make others stop.


text:
My Stolen Revolution
At first obvious judgment, the documentary, 'My Stolen Revolution', may seem a feminist rebuke to Iran's troubling recent history with crimes against women. But this film, at times a little rough around the edges, is about many other things. It is foremost a love-letter from the filmmaker to her brother. And the entire film is also in many ways her attempt at the exorcism of guilt.
In our routine dealings with the world, we interact with countless strangers: people in whom we may invest attention only for the short term, and others we may outright ignore. But, this film asks: how many of the strangers we encounter on a daily basis harbor histories of the unbearable, the unthinkable?
The filmmaker (Nahid Persson) a former student activist in Iran, who belonged to a liberal counter-establishment revolutionary organization in her youth, managed to leave the country just barely before the government started to crack down on members of the group. Now living in the United States and watching the recent resurgence of violent student-led protests in Iran more than three decades later, she is driven to reach out to the other members of her original radical student group. This leads her to travel around the world to reconnect with these individuals, who like her, have settled into mostly quiet, domestic lives. It is surprising how unremarkable and ordinary the eventual destination can be for a path that started out with an unquenchable revolutionary fervor. As she meets these other women, they begin to recount, in frank detail, their experiences in the Iranian prison system after getting arrested in their youth, a fate the filmmaker narrowly escaped. The weight of her guilt becomes more evident when it is revealed that her younger brother, recruited into the revolutionary group for barely a month, was subsequently arrested and suffered the worst of outcomes. Unlike her, his fate did not allow for fleeing Iran prior to imprisonment.
All documentaries carry the burden of being truthful even as we know that the presence of a camera in front of a person fundamentally alters their behavior. This film presents several filmed interactions between individuals that couldn't possibly be entirely authentic. How could not a lack of spontaneity and an inevitable rehearsed-ness not have crept in with the best of intentions. But ultimately the film transcends those concerns and manages to pack an emotional wallop because it has the good fortune to have as its subject, these women of remarkable strength. Whose ideological passions, burning still after all these years, and cut through the limitations of the documentarian's camera.
Weeks after having seen this film, what has stayed with me is this. It is the smiling face of one of the women: a face of uncommon peace that against all odds retained a calm grace even when recounting particularly horrific transgressions at the hands of Iranian prison guards. The five women who speak candidly to the camera in this film have all made peace with their past lives. How is it conceivable that individuals who have been through the unspeakable can have their future lives not irreversibly haunted by those experiences? How can bitterness not poison everything that follows for those who survive the horrific. Every person who makes it through a holocaust, who has been a political prisoner, who has been victim to military human rights violations, who has seen genocide first hand – must have had to grapple with this. 'My Stolen Revolution' gains most power when demonstrating the seemingly insaturable human capacity for mending after surving what would seem a wholly destructive experience.
'My Stolen Revolution' was screened at the 2013 Los Angeles Film Festival and is awaiting distribution.


text:
Start playing the kazoo today!
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text:
2016 Firehouse Subs Franchise Trademark Fraud. Who Criminally violated 18 U.S.C. § 1001?
Firehouse Subs Fraud on the USPTO - 18 U.S.C. Section 1001
By Author, William H. Rogers
Published Online 06/24/2016 - All Rights Reserved / Registered Copyright(s)
2016 Firehouse Subs Franchise Trademark Fraud. Who Criminally violated 18 U.S.C. § 1001?
The 2011 Jury Verdict regarding the Calli Bakers (Firefighter, Capt. Heath Scurfield) verses Firehouse Subs (Firehouse Restaurant Group, Inc.) Federal Lawsuit and subsequent Appeal was followed by many in the franchise business.
In 2016 many in the franchise industry consider any further discussions about the willful, fraudulent activities by Firehouse Subs, Co-Founder's Chris and Robin Sorensen...old news.
Alas, it is a distant memory that Firehouse Subs, Co-Founder's Chris and Robin Sorensen alongside Trademark Attorney, Richard S. Vermut (Attorney-Client Privileges) had procured Trademark Application(s) by willful, material fraud on the U.S. Government (United States Patent and Trademark Office / USPTO).
Yet there still are many unanswered legal questions that remain. One such important, legal question is who was held accountable for the criminal violations of 18 U.S.C. §1001?
The short answer is no-one to date. The only penalty after over 3 years of Federal District Court actions that led to an Appeals Settlement in July 2012 was that Registration Number 3173030 was required by USPTO / TTAB to expire and/or was left to be canceled on June 28, 2013 regarding "Renewal" under (Section 9).
However, the Firehouse Subs Trademark Portfolio consists of 60+ "Firehouse" Subs Trademark Applications in Registration. All of those 60+ "Firehouse" Subs Trademark Applications in Registration were clearly listed and cataloged in the lawsuit; Calli Bakers (Firefighter, Capt. Heath Scurfield) verses Firehouse Subs (Firehouse Restaurant Group, Inc.).
But only one (1) Trademark Registration Number 3173030 was not "renewed" under (Section 9) and left to be canceled as a penalty??? That very modest penalty should cause a reasonable mind to ask why?
This article, at this point and time, serves up Q&A about who was complicit and should be held accountable for the criminal violations 18 U.S.C. § 1001. There indeed WAS a crime(s) under a 18 U.S.C. §1001 evidenced by signed "Declaration(s)" but to the date of this writing there has been no-one held accountable. Did any authority (USPTO / TTAB) report the crime that clearly violated 18 U.S.C. §1001? Not to the date of this writing; that the Author is aware, even after an OED Compliant filed January 21st 2016.
First, what is the Criminal penalty by signing the "Declaration" section of Registration Number 3173030 under 18 U.S.C. §1001?
The Statutory language of 18 U.S.C. §1001. Statements or entries generally is the following;
(a) . . . [W]hoever, in any matter within the jurisdiction of the executive, legislative, or judicial branch of the Government of the United States,[ 1 ] knowingly and willfully -- (1) falsifies, conceals, or covers up by any trick, scheme, or device a material fact; (2) makes any materially false, fictitious, or fraudulent statement or representation; or (3) makes or uses any false writing or document knowing the same to contain any materially false, fictitious, or fraudulent statement or entry; shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 5 years.
Under 18 U.S.C. § 3571, the maximum fine under Section 1001 is at least $250,000 for individuals and $500,000 for corporations. Alternatively, if any person derives pecuniary gain from the offense, or if the offense results in a pecuniary loss to a person other than the defendant, the defendant may be fined not more than the greater of twice the gross gain or twice the gross loss.
Secondly, the general answer to who should be held accountable under 18 U.S.C. § 1001 is Richard S. Vermut, Firehouse Subs IP "Attorney of Record" at the USPTO under 37 C.F.R. §11.18(b)(2)(i).
The specific answer purportedly in view of the facts is Mr. Vermut's underling at the time; Ms. Tala A. Woods, unwittingly signed-off on the "Declaration" 18 U.S.C. § 1001 per Mr. Vermut's advisement and/or instructions to sign-off on the Registration Application Number 3173030.
Pursuant to 37 C.F.R. § 11.18(b)(2)(i), a registered practitioner who presents a paper to the Office [implicitly] certifies to the best of his or her knowledge, information, and belief formed after an inquiry reasonable under the circumstances that, inter alia, the paper is not being presented for any improper purpose. A practitioner who submits an information disclosure statement without inspecting the submitted documents -i.e., merely acts as a conduit for another person – is considered to have made a false certification to the Office.
It is my firm belief Ms. Tala A. Woods was just a pawn used one time by Richard S. Vermut (TTAB "Attorney of Record") to file the Registration Application Number 3173030 based on my fact findings. Whereas, BEFORE and AFTER the Application of Registration Number 3173030 in March 2003 either Richard S. Vermut or Firehouse Subs, Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen always signed-off on all the "Declaration(s)" under 18 U.S.C. § 1001.
WITH EMPHASIS, the main reason I unequivocally believe Ms. Tala A. Woods was a pawn used by Richard S. Vermut ("TTAB Attorney of Record") and Firehouse Subs, Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen is because in my fact findings ALL the other (29 Trademark Applications) in the "Declaration(s)" under 18 U.S.C. §1001 AFTER the fraudulent Application of Registration Number 3173030 in March 2003 were signed-off by either Mr. Richard S. Vermut or Robin Sorensen.
In other words, ALL the other 29 Trademark Applications of Firehouse Subs (Firehouse Restaurant Group) in the "Declaration(s)" Section AFTER the fraudulent Application of Registration Number 3173030 in March 2003 clearly violate 18 U.S.C. §1001 because Richard S. Vermut or Robin Sorensen DID have absolute "foreknowledge" since "August 2002" of others using the word "Firehouse".
Please see the Exhibit and/or designated links below.
The BIG PICTURE in this Firehouse Subs illicit Trademark Application matter is Mr. Richard S. Vermut alongside Robin Sorensen had admitted on the public Federal Court Record to having full foreknowledge in "August 2002" of other Senior Users of the word "firehouse" (Firehouse Grill & Pub Inc, Tampa, FL.) during the Application of Registration Number 3173030 filed in March 2003 and that Registration Application was found to be obtained by fraud in 2011. Thereafter, despite the date of "August 2002" given in sworn Trial Testimony by "Sorensen" Richard S. Vermut alongside Firehouse Subs, Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen filed 25+ Trademark Registration Applications AFTER "August 2002" regarding the word mark(s) "Firehouse" that as a matter of law repeatedly violated 18 U.S.C. §1001.
***PLEASE SEE ROBIN SORENSEN'S "DEPOSITION / TRIAL TESTIMONY" EXHIBIT LINKED HERE [From the Federal District Court Record, Florence South Carolina Case#: 4:09-cv-00618-RBH Entry Number 241 Page 6 of 35 ]
The material admissions in 2011 (Exhibited Above) by Robin Sorensen alongside Attorney, Richard S. Vermut that they fully knew of Senior Users in "August 2002" like Firehouse Grill & Pub Inc, Tampa, FL during the Application of Registration Number 3173030 in March 2003 are distinctly on the Federal Court Record. The TTAB Docket more importantly and very distinctly shows Richard S. Vermut alongside Robin Sorensen under 18 U.S.C. §1001 subsequently filed and "Obtained" "25+ more Trademark Applications AFTER "August 2002" and the fraudulently obtained Registration Number 3173030 filed in March 2003 to further enlarge their "Firehouse" Subs Trademark Portfolio.
The Lanham Act §14(3) permits cancellation of a U.S. trademark registration, at any time, if the registration "was obtained fraudulently."
"Obtained" in this context has been interpreted to mean not only the procurement of the initial registration, but the maintenance (Section 8), renewal (Section 9), and incontestability status (Section 15) of an existing registration.
"Fraud in procuring a trademark registration or renewal occurs when an applicant knowingly makes false, material representation of fact in connection with his application." Torres v. Cantine Torresella S.r.l., 1 U.S.P.Q.2d 1483, 1484 (Fed. Cir. 1986).
Furthermore, as a matter of law, everytime Richard S. Vermut and/or Robin Sorensen (or others) subsequently file a maintenance (Section 8), renewal (Section 9), and incontestability status (Section 15) of an existing registration (Trademark Application) made AFTER "August 2002" under 18 U.S.C. §1001 they repeatedly violate Federal Trademark Law (Lanham Act / 18 U.S.C. §1001).
Robin O'Neal Sorensen, Firehouse Subs Co-Founder has unlawfully signed-off on the majority of these maintenance (Section 8), renewal (Section 9), and incontestability status (Section 15) under 18 U.S.C. §1001 even AFTER the "August 2002" date given in his Federal Court Testimony. Example 1 | Example 2 | Example 3 | Such Trademark Application actions are also in violation of the Lanham Act.
An another deplorable aspect in this matter is AFTER "August 2002" and the fraudulently obtained Registration Number 3173030 on the common word "FIREHOUSE" filed in March 2003 Attorney, Mr. Richard S. Vermut alongside Robin Sorensen went about filing intimidating and costly lawsuits under the color of law (many listed on the TTAB & Federal Court Docket) against over 25 known Small Businesses across the Nation using the common word "Firehouse". You can count the lawsuits in the TTAB Record HERE. It is anyone's guess how many "Cease & Desist" Letters were issued threatening other small businesses nationwide to stop using the common word "Firehouse".
The material facts are Attorney, Richard S. Vermut alongside Robin Sorensen AFTER they had admitted on the Federal Court Record to having foreknowledge since "August 2002" of other Senior Users of the word "firehouse" (Firehouse Grill & Pub Inc, Tampa, FL.) and during their Application of Registration Number 3173030 filed in March 2003 they then subsequently "obtained" "25+ more Trademark Applications and/or "obtained" maintenance (Section 8), renewal (Section 9), and incontestability status (Section 15) on well over 25+ Trademark Registration Applications filed AFTER "August 2002" which repeatedly violated 18 U.S.C. §1001.
It is apparent Robin Sorensen and his Trademark Attorney Richard S. Vermut are extremely absentminded...or crooks...or both.
THE QUESTION: Who Criminally violated 18 U.S.C. §1001?
THE ANSWER: Mr. Richard S. Vermut in concert with Robin Sorensen willfully and many times over. (purportedly 29 Counts) Ms. Tala A. Woods unwittingly as directed; one time, by Mr. Richard S. Vermut.
As if the truth in facts about this Trademark Fraud matter outlined above were not unlawful and corrupt enough Mr. Richard S. Vermut alongside Firehouse Subs, Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen in April 2015 filed yet another lawsuit "Opposition" before the Trademark Trial and Appeals Board (TTAB) TTAB Case Number: 91221728 claiming exclusive rights to the word "firehouse" once again. The case against Columbia "Firehouse" Restaurant and Bar in Alexandria, Virginia, as Represented by Attorney, Michael J. Chamowitz, was supposedly "DROPPED" as reported by the Alexandria Times in February 2016 but is in "pending" status before the TTAB as of the date of this publishing.
In conclusion, basically, the "Firehouse" Subs, Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen with absolute foreknowledge unlawfully ("backed-into") ALL the Firehouse Subs Trademark Applications filed State and Federal since 1994 and in violation of 18 U.S.C. §1001.
There never was a "likeliness of confusion" over the common word "firehouse" in the many costly lawsuits brought by Firehouse Subs since 2002 only a likelihood that Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen and brother Chris (alongside Attorney-Client Privileges) are confusingly deceptive and unscrupulous which are certainly not the traits founded in Firefighters. They are indeed though "Trademark Bully's".
The TTAB Trial Record shows "Firehouse" Subs, Co-Founder, Robin Sorensen and his brother Chris ruthlessly hurt the small business person for which they once were in 1994 until they made $357,000.00 from the first location in Jacksonville Florida. Accordingly, it can only be that this type of Corporate Greed based in a Franchise Model makes you forget where you came from and who you are.
As for the author of this article, I stand-on my personal, first-hand knowledge which is based in hard facts that both Chris and Robin Sorensen had absolute foreknowledge of other Senior Users of the word "Firehouse" since late 1993. One restaurant in particular named "Firehouse" is a Restaurant and Bar in New York City for which Robin Sorensen personally visited before the first Firehouse Subs Store opening in 1994.
By William H. Rogers, Jr. - Article Published
Former Professional Firefighter (Rockledge, Florida),
Concerned Citizen and Investigative Author
Author of "Firehouse Subs Fraud on the USPTO" © Copyright
This is an excerpt from the book publishing.
Other Published Blue Mau Mau Online Articles by this Author:
On AUGUST 5th 2016: "2016 Firehouse Subs Franchise & Trademarks - Firehouse Subs Franchise - Firehouse Subs Fraud on the USPTO"
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text: I am here doing everything to conquer the flu. As I sit quietly my eyes drift to this door with pictures of beautiful birds. Some time ago I had a post where I indicated that old calendars don't go to waste at my home. My twin and I decorated this door over 4 years ago. We used to put up new ones every year. However they still look bright so I have kept them up. Of course they bring back good memories of time shared with my twin.


text:
One sunny summer Saturday at the barn, Daisy said "I gotta take the girls to the dentist."
If you're picturing two cute little kids in pigtails and head to toe pink Hannah Montana outfits…you are SO wrong. The "girls" were Daisy's two fillies: a 3yo and a yearling.
Barbie, the TB, was developmentally equal to a 15 year old girl going through that bratty, sarcastic, mom is SO lame stage, and Lucy, the yearling warmblood, was the equivalent of bratty's younger sister: wants to be just like her, steal everything she has, but hates her guts. And they were going in a little metal box on wheels…together.
"You wanna come?"
Of course I wanted to come!
I'm insatiably curious when it comes to other barns , veterinary facilities, and horse care. You can learn a lot visiting other facilities. Um hmmm.
Real reason: ROAD TRIP. That means, besides rolled down windows , warm air, and loud music, road trip food. I was already stocking up in the junk food aisle in my mind. Maybe we could stop at Burger King. FRIES.
Perfect late summer Saturday. I could already feel the wind in my hair, the sun on my window arm and the potato chips on my lips. Daisy knows me too well. She snaps her fingers in front of my face.
"Helloooo… It's only seven miles from here. No Doritos."
"What about…" I say.
"NO. No donuts, no chips, no candy, NO BURGER KING." Daisy says.
"Not even some…" I say.
"NO peanuts!" Daisy says. "We're getting in shape, remember? We can split a turkey sandwich , no mayo."
"Can we get it with pickles?" I ask.
"Pickles. Jalapenos. Whatever. The works."
I'm back on board. Half a big old stuffed to the gills turkey sandwich…life is GOOD.
Daisy plugs her iPod into the dash. Whoa. New technology. I ignore it hoping this will make it seem like it's not the first time I've seen an ipod plugged into a vehicle. I dive into the oozing white paper wrapper that is my half of turkey with EVERYTHING.
"Have you been here before?" I say conversationally around the vegetation in my mouth. Oddly, this comes out as "Haff yu binere bahfur?
Daisy waves a mapquest printout at me in answer. Unlike me, Daisy doesn't talk with her mouth full.
K. Got it. I'm the co-pilot. I pick up the printout and immediately finger paint yellow mustard around the edges. Ooooo…that's kinda pretty.
Focus, Jane, focus!
"Wendy said we can't miss it. It's off Range Rd, first dirt road at the end of a really long hedge." Daisy says.
"Range Rd? Where is that?" I say, helpfully.
"Printout?" Daisy says.
"Oh yeah." I say. "Okay you're supposed to turn right, no left, onto Willow ave. It's .6 miles."
We drive .6 miles. No Willow Ave. No biggie. We drive .7 miles. Then .8, .9, and 1.5 more miles. Still no Willow Ave.
"Shit. We're going to have to turn around, we musta missed it." says Daisy.
We're on a typical rural road. Arched in the middle, two lane, no shoulder, drainage ditches on either side. 50 miles per hour speed limit. Hauling a BIG 3 horse trailer. Daisy is a Hunter/Jumper rider. Tall horses.
Sure. We'll just turn right around.
Amazingly, WE DO. Daisy finds an intersection, I get out to direct non-existent traffic, and she whips that puppy around like a pro.
I hate Mapquest. Willow Ave is a figment of it's electronic imagination.
"Well I know sorta where the dentist is." says Daisy. "I think it's over by the Ocean Highway, you know, past that cow place but before the town? Maybe we can cut over on another parallel road, like Mitchell?"
Mitchell? Where is Mitchell? I need Doritos. I'd be a much calmer, more remembering co-pilot with a bag of Doritos in my hand. I fake it.
"Sounds good to me." I say.
Daisy looks at me sideways.
"You don't have a clue, do you?" she says.
I'm indigent. I'd HAVE a clue if we had stopped at Burger King.
"Stop thinking about fries!! I need some help here." Daisy says.
How does she know what I'm thinking!??
"Because everything you think goes across your face, okay? Not only does everything show, you are the worst liar I ever met."
Okay. This is getting spooky. I haven't said anything out loud.
"You don't NEED to say anything!" Daisy says, "Read me the map!"
We turn off the highway, and find the correct road. We find the really long, 12 foot tall hedge. We pull into the narrow dirt driveway at the end. We're facing a garage. House two feet to the left. No barn.
We just pulled a giant truck with 3 horse trailer into someone's driveway. Backing out is not an option. You don't back a horse trailer out onto the freeway.
I knock on the front door, muttering please don't be home…please don't be home. We're in luck, no one is home! There is a very small T at the end of the driveway, just big enough for a Toyota to easily make a 3 point turn. Must be how they avoid backing out onto the freeway.
I toe/heel walk the length of the driveway T, and then walk the length of the rig. The T is 3 feet longer. Theoretically, this means we should be able to turn around. Both babies are already old hands at hauling, and other than a few get on with it kicks, remain unfazed, and in fact start trying to nip each other, like bored kids fighting in the back seat of the car. Daisy yells at them to knock it off. They quit, but eyeball each other over the divider.
I move all the homeowners stuff: the trashcans, the wheelbarrow, and miscellaneous junk , trying to make as much room as possible for the rig to turn.
What follows next is 45 minutes of the most minute maneuvering imaginable. 45 minutes is a long time when you are trying NOT to smash a garage, take out a tree branch, or sideswipe a house.
The last time I hauled on my own was 20 years ago: this makes me super helpful, standing behind the trailer shouting:
Turn the wheel so the trailer moves to the left…no THE OTHER LEFT…wait STOP…pull forward, back up…turn the wheel same way but less sharp, no more than that…no LESS than that…THERE…STOP. Go forward.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
It may have been 45 actual minutes, but it was 4 hours on the emotional time-scale…especially since we were both worried the homeowner would come home and find this giant THING inches from everything they value, trying not to jackknife. I held bushes back, pushed the shed doors inward, lifted tree branches, whatever we could do to buy inches.
Daisy got the dang thing turned around with my, uh, "help". It's amazing she still speaks to me.
Our 15 minute, 7 mile drive turned into a 2 hour, 7 mile drive. Once we finally pulled into the other long dirt driveway at the end of the other long 12 foot tall hedge, I remembered something important.
I look at Daisy. She looks back at me with a question mark over her head.
"I didn't put anything back", I say.
Someone was going to come home, and their trash cans, wheelbarrow and yard equipment would be weirdly displaced, partly hidden, stuffed into whatever openings I could find.
We couldn't exactly pull over on the freeway on the way home so I could put it back.
"Okay", Daisy says, "You win. Next time, Burger King."


text:
22 Hysterical Times Fashion Gurus Took a Day Off
Dozens of all sorts of things can inspire fashion designers to put out new collections on the runway and on the market. But the things you're about to see in this article won't have a logical explanation.
Throughout the years, we at Bright Side have done our best to protect you from fashion mistakes with our tips and tricks. We hope that these bad examples will save you from a serious fashion faux pas!
22. Tie-dye disaster
21. Instead of using the University's logo to replace the "C" in central, they just kind of threw it on there.
20. $168 for these jeans:
19. Is this supposed to be a riddle?
18. Pants from target
17. "I thought these Star Wars socks were really cool until I put them on and saw this face staring back at me:"
16. This Pakistani dress has a Shutterstock watermark on it:
15. "I feel like this T-shirt is a little shady..."
14. Unfortunate flower placement
13. Minions have never been so weird and that's definitely saying something...
12. This wedding dress makes it looks like chiffon is swooshing out from behind:
11. Short rounded leggies..
10. Gotta love bootlegged goods...
9. Elsa doesn't look familiar anymore...
8. New times – new faces.
7. Apple branching out into the fashion market
6. Miley Cyrus is looking different these days...
5. What's his superpower?
4. Gotta love black, white, and the irony of this shirt:
3. There is literally a third checkbox right on your shirt.
2. Hoping this shirt wasn't a Father's Day gift...
1. Where is everybody looking?
Has anything in our collection inspired you? What's the craziest fashion fail that you've seen recently? Share with us in the comments!
Preview photo credit EarlyCuylersCousin/reddit, chrzzl/reddit
Bright Side/Curiosities/22 Hysterical Times Fashion Gurus Took a Day Off
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text:
In a Tokyo suburb a young man named Toru Okada searches for his wife's missing cat. Soon he finds himself looking for his wife as well in a netherworld that lies beneath the placid surface of Tokyo. As these searches intersect, Okada encounters a bizarre group of allies and antagonists: a psychic prostitute; a malevolent yet mediagenic politician; a cheerfully morbid sixteen-year-old-girl; and an aging war veteran who has been permanently changed by the hideous things he witnessed during Japan's forgotten campaign in Manchuria.
Gripping, prophetic, suffused with comedy and menace, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is a tour de force equal in scope to the masterpieces of Mishima and Pynchon.
This novel, if anything, was persistently original. Murakami never fails in that area of expertise. An acquaintance of mine described Murakami as "dry and unimaginative." His writing can be very simple and his characters do seem dry at times, but he has a great talent for deep sentiments disguised by parables, secondary characters, and details. The beauty of this book is that it's a bonafide Japanese tale that allows outsiders to experience the culture via Murakami – the world, the war, and Japanese imperialism.
His characters are not meant to seem real, but ethereal personalities that exist in another world. Toru Okada, relentless, calculated, and bold was an admirable character. Through him, Murakami gives you the autonomy to interpret the text in a million different ways. It is truly, without a doubt, a piece of art. This is admitted whether the story is idolized or hated. Yes, this story became tiresome after a series of unrelated events (especially for someone who wants everything to piece together). However, I could not find myself to put it down. If anything, Murakami was able to weave suspense in the undertones and interlock his audience with the element of surprise. Hey, if you thought you were getting used to the story, here's this to mix it up a bit!
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle was somewhat suspenseful, at times horribly macabre, and unnaturally beautiful. It was insanely weird and mysterious….would I call it excellent? You'll have to decide for yourself.
Rating: ★★★★
Psychological fiction: (also psychological realism) is a literary genre that emphasizes interior characterization, as well as the motives, circumstances, and internal action which is derivative from and creates external action; not content to state what happens, it rather reveals and studies the motivation behind the …
Science fiction: fiction based on imagined future scientific or technological advances and major social or environmental changes, frequently portraying space or time travel and life on other planet
Fantastique: a subgenre of literary works characterized by the ambiguous presentation of seemingly supernatural forces.