The great—and tragic—switcheroo

ALIVE!

12 trapped miners found in W. Va. Miracle

So read the front page of this morning’s New York Post. I went to bed last night thinking the worst, so needless to say I was surprised to see those headlines as I passed the corner newsstand on my way home from Battery Park with Ilsa the wonder dog. Check that, I was more than surprised. In fact, I was overjoyed, in a “The Mets just won the World Series!” kind of way. Miracles do happen. Sometimes.

In my apartment I put on a bowl of oatmeal and read the Post’s account, written by reporter Cynthia Fagen. Three paragraphs summed up the feelings of the miners’ families upon hearing the news:

“There were hugs and tears among the crowd gathered outside the Sago Baptist church near the mine in Tallmansville, about 100 miles northeast of Charleston.

“A few minutes after word came, the throng, several hundred strong, broke into a chorus of the hymn ‘How Great Thou Art’ in the chilly, night air as church bells pealed triumphantly.

“Kay Weaver, whose brother-in-law, Jack Weaver, was in the mine, said family members learned of the rescue when a man burst into the nearby Baptist church where relatives were waiting, shouting, ‘It’s a miracle. It’s a miracle!’”

Not.

Somebody got it wrong, it turns out. Of the 13 miners trapped in the Sago mine following an explosion Monday, rescuers found only one survivor, 27-year-old Randal McCloy. The others were dead. All but one of the bodies were found huddled behind a makeshift barricade erected by the men to stave off the poisonous fumes that ultimately overcame them.

There would be no joy among cable and digital news audiences today. We could only begin to imagine the grief of the families following such an overwhelming letdown.

Somebody blew it. Big Time. And before the tragic truth of the situation could finally emerge the bogus news had made its way around the world. The misreporting of the fate of the Sago miners ranks as one of the great misfires of the Information Age. It also points out the danger in taking at face value news that is both delivered and competes in real time. In on-the-spot reporting, emotions often all too easily trump reason.

My Italian grandfather had a brother who was killed in a mining accident in Pennsylvania in the early 20th century, shortly after the two had immigrated to America. The exact year this happened was lost with my grandfather when he died of pneumonia at the age of 92 in 1965.

My grandfather, a onetime railroad worker who later delivered ice and ran a fruit stand to see his family through the Depression and World War II, rarely talked about his brother’s death. When he did, it was in a broken English that often only he fully understood.

The news of my granduncle’s death, if reported at all, probably went no further than the local newspaper. Mining deaths at the turn of the century weren’t exactly freak occurrences.

If the local newspaper did run a story on my granduncle’s death, I’ll bet it had the essential truth of the matter correct from the get-go. Minus the competition of several hundred cable channels and even more websites delivering news in real time, newspapers back then could take the time to confirm their stories before running with them. Not anymore. Today, newshounds can’t be so sure of the accuracy of today’s “breaking news.” That’s something we ought to keep in mind as we channel- and Web-surf for the latest goings-on in the global neighborhood.