The tiny village of Perryville, Alaska normally harbors 92 Indians and two white schoolteachers. Last week 80 of the Indians had gone north to their seasonal fishing grounds. The remaining 14 souls in Perryville were not happy to be there. For Mt. Veniaminof, only 15 miles away, was blowing its head off.
In Alaska’s most spectacular volcanic display in more than a decade, the crater vomited flame to a height of 1,500 feet, acrid smoke and hot ash to a distance of five or six miles. The smoke pall was so thick in Perryville that lamps had to be lighted in the daytime. The earth rumbled ceaselessly. Coast Guard commanders in the Bering Sea reported ashes falling 35 miles from the mountain, volcanic dust 100 miles away. In Unalaska, 350 miles from the volcano, chandeliers shook.
From Perryville, Teacher Albert D. Johnson radioed: “The eruptions have put tremendous fear in the natives. They spend most of the 24 hours sitting outside dugouts keeping eyes on the mountain of fire. Tomorrow there will be only myself and wife in the village.”
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