After 44 Hours, Hope Showed Its Cruel Side

The explosion appeared to have come from a sealed inactive part of the mine; the exact cause is still under investigation, but it "resembled" a methane blast, Hatfield explained. When cameras found no signs of collapse or major damage from the blast, those gathered in the church began reassuring one another that maybe the men could survive, maybe they had escaped to a safe pocket somewhere. "Maybe," one hopeful woman told television reporters, "they got on the other side of the air."

Helen Winans, waiting for word about her 50-year-old son, Marshall Winans, was annoyed at the way people kept asking their what-if questions when officials appeared for briefings. Marshall Winans's wife and three grown children were there, and siblings and in-laws, and friends as well. "I told them all along that whole crew was comin' out alive," Helen Winans recalled. "Miracles do happen."

The Rev. Jerry Murrell, pastor of the Way of the Holiness church in Buckhannon, was one of the local clergy members keeping vigil with the families at Sago Baptist. "There were times of intense prayer, and times of softly singing hymns," he said. "Ministers would take turns reading Scripture. The one we seemed to keep turning back to was Romans 8:28 where the Apostle Paul promises that all things work together for good to those who love God."

On Tuesday night, the first body was found 11,200 feet from the entrance portal of the mine. The portal bus that would have transported the missing crew was discovered intact.

Rescue crews pushed deeper into the mine. Inside the church, relatives dozed on pews or cots. But tension was growing, and people began retreating to their cars for respite. Helen Winans decided to try to catch a nap in her truck. She awoke to find her grandson pounding on the window shortly before midnight. "Hurry!" he cried.

Murrell was standing inside the church talking to Gov. Joe Manchin III when they heard someone suddenly scream, "They're alive! They're alive!"

"There was just this roar of jubilation," the preacher said. People fell into one another's arms, laughing and weeping. "People were dancing, praising God, thanking Him."

Underground, rescuers had heard moaning and found the spot 13,225 feet deep into the mine where the miners had barricaded themselves behind one of the thin plastic curtains called battices used to direct air flow or close off an opening. All appeared to have used the breathing apparatuses that provide oxygen for an hour, mining officials found.

It was at this point, Hatfield told a news conference later Wednesday, that the disastrous chain of miscommunication began. The moaning miner was in extremely critical condition. Speaking through a full-face oxygen mask, a rescuer radioed word up to their fresh-air base, which then contacted the rescue command center, and "said 12 were alive," Hatfield recounted. Within minutes, the church bells were ringing and the hollow was mobbed with cheering townspeople and families. The relatives waited to hear when they would be reunited with the loved ones they had feared dead.

"We were told they would be coming to the church to greet their families," Murrell recalled. "They even told us which door they would come in, and how to prepare, that immediate family members should line up first. People were singing songs, kids were dancing in the aisles. The exuberance just began to build, it was just unbelievable."

In Buckhannon, nurses at St. Joseph's had cleared a wing on the second floor for the dozen miracle patients the hospital expected any minute. Extra staff members were called in, hospital spokeswoman Lisa Turner said, and 12 teams were assembled so no miner would have to wait for treatment. Warming blankets were prepared, and IV poles set up. A special yellow decontamination tent was set up in case any survivors had been exposed to noxious chemicals.

At 12:30 a.m. Wednesday, the report came into the command center that one survivor was on his way out of the mine, but that the other 11 showed no signs of life. For nearly two hours, waiting for medical teams to reach and assess the miners, company officials "clung to hope" that the men were comatose and might be revived, Hatfield said.