Legends & Tales Of Mount St. Helens

The Visitors

In 1973 I met two very tall persons, about 8 to 12 feet tall; a man and woman on the side of Mt St Helens. I went there as a prep trip to go canoeing on the, not there now, Spirit Lake. Since it was March, I found the lake under snow drifts so I went up to the top of the mountain to climb it. As I got out of my VW Super Beetle I was overcome with fear. Terror gripped me. Try as I might I could not force myself to cross the parking lot to the beginning of the trail where a family were beginning their ascent. I could not move because the fear within me petrified my body.

I then saw in my mind's eye, through my third eye, the mountain blowing up right underneath me. I saw the mountain and the rocks and the trees below me and all around me being superheated and exploding into shreds. I shouted to the family to get out of there because the mountain was about to blow. They looked at me like I was some nut probably on drugs. I did have long hair in those days.

The day was a beautiful, clear day, and I quickly realized that the sensation I was receiving was only a premonition of an event to come. I fell back into my car and got outta there. On the way down I stopped at the Lodge where I bought some beer from the owner, Harry Truman, who made a snide comment to me when I stopped to debate getting a bag of chips after buying some beer. I almost, with knowing, said to him that someday he would die up there with his mountain; I didn't, and I left. Farther down the mountain top as I turned a sharp corner I passed by two persons who were dressed in white robes. At first glance I thought that they were Hari Krishna's out for a hike, and being twenty miles from Toledo, WA I pulled over and got out to offer them a ride to town. Immediately, two things happened.

First, as I walked up to them I realized that I had to look up at them like I was looking at the top of a basketball net. That realization freaked me out, but I love an adventure. As I walked up to them, I offered to give them a lift to town. The woman then turned to the man and said quietly, "I thought we were supposed to meet someone here." The man who also had long hair only slightly raised his right hand in my direction to indicate that I was the contactee they were waiting for.

This point was not lost on me. Next, a car pulled up and asked me if I was alright. Again my senses told me all was not normal...at all. I 'knew' the man and car load of four persons, perhaps a man and his wife in the front seat with his daughter and son in the back seat could not see the tall persons towering over me. I said that I was simply overtaken by the beauty of the scenery and just had to get out and look at it. Slowly, very slowly, they drove away. I had covered for what to then seem like me talking to imaginary persons.

But they were real, very real.

The woman again turned to the man and said, "He can see us."

To which he replied, "He's in an altered state of consciousness." Then the man turned to me and said, "You deceived them?" Thinking that I had done them a favor by covering for them, I did not have a ready reply. I then asked them if they wanted a ride to town. I was torn at this point between what I know about my reality on this dimension and what really knew I knew who were standing before me were beings that were not from this dimension. Yet, I could not wholly accept that fact.

The man turned to the woman and said with a sweeping gesture toward the car "Shall we?"

So they walked to the car. I wanted to tell them about what had just happened on top of Mt. St. Helens. As they approached my Super Beetle I knew that they were very-very tall; not normally tall but way tall and would not fit in my car. I said, "Maybe it's not such a good idea."

The man replied, "We'll fit fine." Before my eyes those two beings began to shrink. The man got into the back seat along with the lady, which in our culture the man would usually get into the front, right? After they got in the man turned to the woman and said, "Are you okay?"

She replied, "I'm fine."

I needed a beer. I opened a Bud (this was rural backwoods Washington State and 1973) and offered them a beer too. I took in my now normal sized guest in the backseat of my souped up Super Beetle. Their robes were somewhat soiled, and had dirt marks and signs of wear like they had been hiking through the woods. I did not expect this from what I had come to accept as aliens or some kind of angels. They really looked real. The guy had very long fingers and that's when I saw that, to my surprise, that he had six fingers on his hands! Since I was driving at the time the man said in a polite but commanding voice, "Turn around and watch the road!"

I replied as any young-twenty-year-old who had already totaled three cars doing stunts, "I'm good man. I can drive and talk at the same time."

"What are you drinking?" He said,

"It's a Bud," I said.

"What is that," he said.

"Beer, you know...alcohol."

That's when he said, "Alcohol? That's poison." My guest hesitated for a few seconds before he spoke again, "Alcohol is going to cause you a lot of problems in your lifetime." He was right about that.

I turned around again to scope out these two hitchhikers. The young woman smiled. They both looked to be in their early thirties. She had long brown hair. His hair was as long as hers which was at least shoulder length. I said, "Toledo's twenty miles away. That would have been a long walk," I said.

"What were you doing on the mountain?" he asked. My mind was fighting with the thought now of that I just may have two aliens who just shape shifted in size in the back of my car, and who just chewed me out for drinking. I was beginning to question my rationality, and what if they wanted to eat me or something. I told them all about my experience on the mountain and the feeling and the vision I had just had. That's when he began to give me specific details about the date, the time eruption of Mount St Helen. He even told me how many people were going to die up there. "About 60 to 70 people will die on that mountain when it erupts," he said. Sixty eight died on it that May 18th in 1980.

Seven years later I would find myself working for Lewis County as a transporter for Senior Services. I had something to do with the red zone being established, but that's another story. I had told so many predictions about the mountain that came true before the eruption that one grandma, just after it erupted, said "You did it! You made that mountain blow up!"

The alien, or whatever, said something that triggered a repressed memory I had. He said it would happen because of the flood that we had prevented that year. Then I began to feel real strange about this encounter. I was sure that he could not have known about the topographical map I had drawn in my cabin last year, and how I had highlighted in blue everything in the state of Washington under 3,000 feet and wrote a short story about me and my family living on Mt St Helen Island after the flood, or could he?

"Who are you," I asked.

The woman leaned over to him and quietly with her easy smile asked him, "Should we tell him who we are?"

"No," he said. Then he said to me, "We're Watchers," he said.

Right about then I knew I had stepped into a forest I did not know the way through. "I mean, what are your names?"

He said his name was, "My name is Geruisyumain."

I said I would not be able to remember his name, and I didn't for thirty three years. Then in a dream I heard his name as he had spoken it.

"And my name is Isyu. It's real easy to remember. Just think about it this way. Say 'Is you,' and you will remember it." I did remember it. Also I read something unique about the name IS You and a significance about that name...but again, I can't place what that importance is.

Of all the wonderful questions I could have asked them I failed to do so. I still beat myself up for letting a great opportunity slip through my fingers out of primal fear of the unknown. We were about ten miles out of Toledo, Washington by then and Geruisyumain said "Pull over, here and when we get out don't look back." So I pulled over, and let them out. And of course as I pulled away I looked back to see them grow back to their ten-ish or so feet height and then vanish.

Later, the next year in a total accident, I was pinned inside my Super Beetle on a bridge over a river. With no way out and not knowing how to swim, I was lifted out of the window and flown out over the river. I was set down in front of a car and the driver took me to the hospital. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm just a man," I replied. It's all that any of us can be.