Very few actual dates are burned into my brain. I mean, burned in as month, day and year.

I know January 28, 1986. That was my 16th birthday, it’s also the day the shuttle exploded.

I know the Victoria Day Weekend of 1990 was when I moved for my first radio job at CJIB in Vernon (which makes this weekend my 18th anniversary in the biz!!).

I know I started at 95.3 in Vancouver on Labour Day of 1993.

Zacharie was born May 31, 2007. My mom and dad were married October 21, 1967.

So apart from family or personal dates, there’s nothing really that stands out in my mind - except May 18, 1980.

I have always remembered the exact date Mount St Helens exploded. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I was 10, an age where boys are fascinated things that go boom. But what makes my memory of this date remarkable, is that I was living in Ontario at the time of the explosion.

Our family was preparing to move from Kingston, Ontario to Richmond, BC later that summer. At the time of the eruption my dad was out west looking at homes. He brought me home a plastic envelope of ash. It was one of those prized possessions I had pinned to my bulletin board for years until, in my early adulthood, I started moving around a lot and saw it as useless, instead of the vital childhood souvenir it has become.

So I don’t have the envelope of ash, but I do think about it every year, on May 18.

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