The end of the Chile mine rescue

By Michael J.W. Stickings

As I write, the last miner, #33, the foreman, Luis Urzua, is being loaded into the capsule. What an amazing, amazing rescue this has been. (I wrote about it extensively last night.) There are any number of reasons to be cynical -- the careful stage-management, the political side of it all, the upcoming commercialization of the miners' ordeal -- but at the heart of this is an inspirational story of the triumph of the human spirit, of the courage of the miners and the heroism of everyone who worked so hard to get them out, an international effort that has justly become an international sensation.

And, yes, perhaps we only pay attention to such stories when they are so sensational, and perhaps we tend to overlook the suffering of those who aren't on television, of those who aren't granted special media attention, those suffering in foreign lands as well as those suffering close to home. And so we pay such close attention to the plight of these miners and celebrate their rescue even as we ignore, say, the suffering of the homeless in our otherwise wealthy cities.

Even so, we should take nothing away from what has happened in Chile. It is simply incredible.

And there's nothing wrong with feeling good about this wonderful accomplishment. There is so much badness and ugliness in the world. Sometimes we need goodness to prevail. It has done so today.

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After over 22 and a half hours, the rescue is about to end. The siren just went off. The capsule is near the surface. There are still a few rescue workers to be brought up, but this is the last of the miners.

And here he is. The rescue is over.

Chileans deserve to wave their flag, to sing their anthem, and to rejoice. And, in a way, we are all Chileans, if just for a day.