Carolyn Driedger's raison d'etre was changed forever as she watched the north side of Mount St. Helens become engulfed in a monstrous cloud of ash as she sped south on Interstate 5.
A near-death experience can do that to a person.
On May 17, 1980, Driedger arrived at St. Helens to assist a friend working on her graduate school thesis. A U.S. Geological Survey expert on glaciers, Driedger was planning to help her monitor the increased glacial melt coming down Pine Creek on the southeast side of the volcano.
But Dave Johnston, a volcanologist with USGS, advised the two that things were getting dicey at St. Helens. He suggested they pack up their car that night and give the mountain some space.
Johnston stayed with the tempestuous peak, monitoring volcanic activity from a ridge north of St. Helens -- supposedly outside the danger zone. The morning of the 18th he sent his last radio transmission: "Vancouver, Vancouver, this is it."
The volcano exploded, spewing hot ash and mud from its collapsed northern summit. Scorching, cement-like mudflows scoured waterways leading away from the peak, including Pine Creek.
No trace of Johnston or his equipment was ever found.
"I owe my life to him," said Driedger, now 47. "That inspired me to do more."
After the eruption, she redirected her career from academic research to a USGS outreach program. Driedger prepares information that explains the geology of volcanoes and their hazards, and works with local officials to plan disaster emergency response. She's also developed posters and handouts for teachers instructing students about the Cascade Range.
"I don't consider this an academic exercise," Driedger said. "There's some passion here."