I can't look at, or think about, a volcano without going back to a night in May of 1980. I was on the air at Marywood's radio station when Mount Saint Helens in Washington blew.
WVMW FM was a rock station at night, and your job was pretty much to play the hits and shut up. I couldn't resist. We had one of those old style teletypes in the newsroom. Bells went off when something big happened. Three dings for what was billed as an "urgent." A "bulletin" triggered five bells and those pings were going off all night.
I did eruption updates between songs, probably angering people who tuned in for their rock. I tried to keep them short and move on. After all, a college radio station is a teaching tool, and I did learn a lot about breaking news that night.
There is a special magic to being in a newsroom when something big happens, even if the newsroom is in the basement of a library and it's the size of a closet. It's a chance to have a front seat to history from thousands of miles away.