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Rush to report discovery leads to anguished error

By SUSAN TAYLOR MARTIN
Published January 5, 2006

Late Tuesday afternoon, as darkness closed over the hollows and mountains of West Virginia, relatives of 13 trapped coal miners heard Gov. Joe Machin express what most felt in their hearts.

"He said the odds are against us," a tearful John Groves told reporters. "It's not hopeful."

Carbon monoxide levels in Sago Mine were dangerously high. A camera plunged into the depths had shown no sign of Groves' 57-year-old brother, Jerry, or any of the others. By the time rescuers reached one of the men, they found only a lifeless form slumped a few hundred yards from a mine car.

Then, it seemed, a miracle.

Shortly before midnight, word spread through the command center: 12 miners had survived. Company and government officials hugged each other; cell phones relayed the joyous news to hundreds of mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, wives and children.

"They're alive!" relatives shouted as the bells of the Sago Baptist Church pealed in jubilation.

For almost three hours, the celebration continued. Even as rescuers reported to the command center that 12 of the miners showed no vital signs. Even as company officials - eager to believe the best - realized there had been a "tragic miscommunication" but remained silent.

Between sundown Tuesday and sunrise Wednesday, emotions shuttled from despair to joy to angry acceptance - as surely as the mine cars shuttle men between sunlight and darkness in one of the most dangerous jobs on earth.

Jerry Groves and his fellow miners had already been at work for hours when Upshur County Commissioner Donnie Tenney was jolted awake at 6:30 Monday morning by what he thought was thunder.

Only after his sister called did he realize he had been rocked by the underground explosion barely a mile away.

"She had heard tell from someone on her prayer chain," Tenney said.

The news traveled quickly that way - from church to church, from phone to phone, from prayer to prayer.

Within a short time, hundreds of relatives, journalists and spectators had gathered outside the mine. But it was not until 5:51 p.m. - after waiting agonizing hours for lethal gases to clear - that the first rescuers entered on foot.

By midmorning Tuesday, other rescuers had punched a skinny hole deep into the area where the miners were believed to be trapped. The news was grim - carbon monoxide levels were dangerously high.

"With each hour that passes, the likelihood of a successful outcome diminishes," said Ben Hatfield, chief executive of mine owner, International Coal Group Inc.

"We are clearly in the situation where we need a miracle. But miracles happen."

Shortly after 9 p.m. Tuesday, rescue crews found one dead miner, who appeared to have been working on a beltline that brings coal out of the mine.

A minister at Sago Baptist Church was leading relatives of the trapped miners in hymns when a company official came in, hands shaking.

"I have some bad news," he said. There was a collective gasp, and two young women fainted.

At 11:45 p.m. Tuesday, anxiety turned to joy. In the rescue command center, where company officials had set up operations with state and federal authorities, word came that the other miners had survived. Less than 10 minutes later, the Associated Press flashed a "news alert" to media organizations around the world:

Family members say 12 miners trapped after an explosion in West Virgina are alive.

"Miracles happen in West Virgina and today we got one," said Charlotte Weaver, whose husband, Jack, was among those trapped. "I got scared a lot of times, but I couldn't give up. We have an 11-year-old son, and I couldn't go home and tell him, "Daddy wasn't coming home.' "

Family members danced and praised God as church bells rang. Several relatives said an unidentified mine foreman had called someone at the church to relay the information.

A few minutes later, another unidentified man went to the church. Squad cars would pick up the miners and bring them to the church, he told the families.

"It will be like Christmas," he reportedly said.

Ambulances streamed to the mine while the nearby hospital called all its employees in to handle the expected survivors.

The rapid spread of false information stemmed partly from the ubiquity of mobile phones, partly from miscommunication, company president Hatfield would later recount. Rescuers who found the 12 miners reported only that they were checking for vital signs, not that they had found them. Nonetheless, several people at the command center quickly called relatives gathered at the church.

The mining company "never made any release about all 12 of the miners being alive and well," Hatfield later said. "We simply couldn't confirm that at that point. But that information spread like wildfire because it had come from the command center. But it was bad information."

Among those reporting the miners had survived was Machin.

"They told us they have 12 alive," he said, according to an AP story that was sent at 12:25 a.m Wednesday. "We have some people that are going to need medical attention."

Even as Machin spoke, rescuers were telling a different story to officials.

Freed of their cumbersome equipment, they were able to communicate more clearly that 12 of the miners "appeared deceased," Hatfield later said. Yet, he added, "many in the command center clinged to the fervent hope that many were in a comatose state and might be revived."

At 1:13 a.m. Wednesday, the unconscious, still-unidentified survivor was brought to the surface. At 1:38 a.m., four more rescue teams were dispatched to determine if the remaining miners were dead or in need of urgent care. Still unsure how many were alive, Hatfield and other company officials did not think it "prudent" to issue a statement.

Relatives continued to celebrate. Family and friends clapped early Wednesday as a single ambulance drove away from the mine. After the news of the apparent rescue broke, Bula Smith, 27, and a friend of one of the miners, wrote a poem that began:

As one fallen hero,

But our prayers held strong..."

Through the early hours of Wednesday, AP continued to report that 12 of the miners had been found alive, though it noted the information had come from family members and not company officials. The wire service also quoted a spokesman for Machin as saying the miners "are being moved to the surface, and their condition is being assessed."

In its own story, which moved at 1:21 a.m, the Los Angeles Times said West Virgina Rep. Shelley Moore Capita had "confirmed" that 12 miners survived.

"I would expect they would range from just fine to maybe some trauma," she told the paper. "At this point, everybody is jubilantly happy that they're out."

In stark contrast to the anger that would later surface, the paper added that many of the relatives "praised (the company's) efforts to find the missing men and vouched for its safety programs."

At 2 a.m., those in the command center were fearing the worst. State officials wanted to notify clergy members that initial reports might have been too optimistic.

"At least some of the clergy got that message but clearly it did not get effectively relayed to people who needed it most - the miners' families," Hatfield would later say.

By then, rescuers who had found the one known survivor were being debriefed. At 2:30 a.m., the mining company prepared a brief statement. Along with Machin, Hatfield headed to the church.

He said "there had been a lack of communication, that what we were told was wrong and that only one survived," said John Groves.

The scene turned chaotic. Some relatives lunged at coal company officials.

"They're lucky they have the patrolman they had," said Daniel Meredith, whose father-in-law, Jim Bennett, was among the dead.

At last, company officials headed to the media center. At 2:57 a.m. Wednesday, almost exactly three hours after its first news alert, the Associated Press transmitted another:

Family members report that 11 of the 12 coal miners who were initially thought to have survived an explosion in a coal mine have died. The sole survivor is hospitalized.

At a news conference Wednesday afternoon, Hatfield said those who had so quickly picked up their mobile phones in the command center had made a tragic mistake.

"They were desperate for good information, they wanted to share. I don't think anyone had a clue how much damage was about to be created."

This report was based on information from the Washington Post, New York Daily News, Associated Press and Cox News.

[Last modified January 5, 2006, 06:33:58]