Back on May 18, 1980, I was taking one of my first dives into entrepreneurship. Driving an ice cream truck. The converted mail trucks that delivered great treats but also annoying music.
That day I was parked in my favorite park, relaxed as a filled my fellow humans with sugar.
Something happened.
Some flaky stuff started drifting down from the sky and the sky became darker in the early afternoon. Time went by, more flakes and darkness.
It started to freak me out some. And a horrid thought occurred to me. This is the end of the world and I’m going to die driving a f**king ice cream truck.
People were starting to look around more and more and I did get around to shutting off the music I had started up, although it was oddly fitting to the moment.
Time drifted by in this sense of doom and finally someone shared with me that Mount Saint Helens had blown it’s top in Oregon State in the US and the ash had drifted to Spokane, Washington, where I lived.
The combination of darkness, ice cream, and falling ash still haunts me.
bobwp 
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