Mt. Pavlov, the third volcano in the neighborhood, was on the Alaska Peninsula about sixty miles to the northeast between Cold Bay and Anchorage. On most of the occasions when I was able to see it through the weather, Pavlov was actively spewing forth steam or smoke. During my year at Cold Bay, a military plane crashed into the side of Mount Pavlov. For several days, US Army personnel circled the mountain in helicopters searching for survivors. The rescuers were battling a storm, and eventually had to cease looking. All signs of the crash had been covered by fresh snow. I was told that the recovery operation would not be able to resume until Spring, when the snow would hopefully have melted.
I first learned of the accident when I was in town and those Army helicopters were swarming the airport where they were apparently refueling. Upon returning to the radar site, I was told that Ops had been tracking the flight (of course) until it abruptly disappeared from the scope.