Of more immediate interest was the "how" behind the news of the cruel outcome. How, exactly, did families holding vigil above ground initially hear that 12 miners were alive and one dead when it was really just the horrible opposite?

As the 24-hour news cycle churned Wednesday, the word used only slightly more often than "dead" and "tragic" was "miscommunication." This was the way Ben Hatfield, CEO of International Coal Group, characterized the way that the message "they're alive" could hang out in the cold winter air for three hours before the grim reality could be confirmed. The only miracle at that point was the recovery of one surviving miner.

Described by company officials as "complex and layered," the rescue operation had depended on recovery teams relaying cell phone messages to administrators. Rumors and leaks were competing with struggles to confirm information. Most reporters who have been thrust into the thick of catastrophe coverage know the scenario - too often, these stories can take on a dimension of the childhood game of "Telephone." Someone overhears a message. Message gets passed along, and along. With a little luck and a lot of care, the final message might be accurate. Or maybe not.

When I called Chris Thomas on Wednesday to get his read on the whole miscommunication mess, he was quick to say he didn't want to come across as passing judgment on a tragedy in which he had no involvement. But I thought of Thomas almost immediately because of the Salt Lake public relations man's expertise.

Thomas and partners in his firm, The Intrepid Group, have built a national reputation for effective crisis management based on their 10-month immersion in the Elizabeth Smart abduction case.

The Smart family hired Intrepid shortly after Elizabeth was snatched from her home in June 2002. She turned up the following March on State Street in Sandy with her alleged kidnappers, Brian David Mitchell and Wanda Barzee.

"The [mining] company might have had a plan, but I would argue they weren't well prepared for managing this crisis," Thomas says. "When something goes wrong this badly it's usually because there's a lack of preparation. A lot of organizations have crisis plans. But they don't frequently update them and they don't practice them for every scenario that can happen.

"You can't anticipate every situation, but I'd say when you run a business that is inherently risky - a mine, a ski resort, an amusement park - the possibilities for a crisis are much higher than say, a scrapbooking company."

That said, Thomas quickly notes that the first hours and days following a crisis are ripe for speculation and misconstrued signals. He recalls the wild rumors that flew during the search for Elizabeth: A bear paw discovered in a mountain creek became a human hand. A suicide victim found in a canyon was rumored to be her.

It wasn't so surprising, according to several news accounts, that someone at the command center overheard a phone conversation regarding checking for the miners' vital signs. That person somehow heard "alive" in the message.

Cynical as it sounds, top crisis management of this drama might have helped. The problem is, someone wanted to be first with news of a "miracle." And who wouldn't want credit for that?

Some outcomes - in this case, the wild card of human hope - can't always be neatly managed or maneuvered.

hmullen@sltrib.com or (801) 257-8610