People around the world have been praying for the successful recovery of Randal McCloy, the lone miner among 13 to survive the tragedy at Sago Mine No. 1 in West Virginia a week ago. The media can be counted upon to chronicle every step, and every setback, of his efforts at Allegheny General Hospital and beyond. His experience trapped underground and ensuing rescue will forever be associated with him, as it is with the nine men saved from the Quecreek Mine flood disaster in Somerset County in 2002, whose story was quickly made into a TV movie. With that in mind, The Morning File research team today visits some of the famous figures from the past who became celebrities through no interest of their own, as victims of disasters, crimes or other crises:

All's well that ends well
Jessica McClure is no longer "America's baby," but a high school graduate. Her story grabbed the nation's attention in October 1987 when she was 18 months old. She fell 22 feet down an abandoned well shaft while playing with other children in Midland, Texas, which prompted a 58-hour rescue effort that made the country anxious before being able to celebrate. Jessica lost a toe, but survived to enjoy a relatively normal childhood thereafter, according to a People magazine story published June 14, 2004, the last time she received any significant media coverage. She had just graduated from Greenwood High School in her hometown, where principal Scott Knippa said, "She's just one of the kids. ... She doesn't seem to have any interior scars at all." The magazine noted Jessica's parents, who kept her out of the limelight after the incident, had divorced in 1990. The first rescuer to reach her, Robert O'Donnell, committed suicide in 1995. Now 19, she will gain access at age 25 to a $1 million trust fund that grew out of donations that poured in after her rescue.

The one who got away
Not every kid gets to have the world's most famous dictator at his 12th birthday party. Most settle for a clown, at best. But most kids also lacked the well-covered rescue and international tug-of-war that resulted from being found clinging to an inner tube off the south Florida coast. So on Dec. 6, Elian Gonzalez was seated next to Cuban President Fidel Castro for his birthday fete in Cardenas, about 85 miles east of Havana. Elian lives there with his father and stepmother, and security guards protect him from unwanted attention, though the Associated Press reported he is a top student passionate about karate. Cuban officials say they want the boy to have a normal life, but he also appears at official events, often in the front row next to his father, now a Cuban lawmaker. At a televised event in April, on the fifth anniversary of the day U.S. authorities removed him from his Miami relatives' home to return him to his homeland, Elian gave a speech thanking those who fought for him to be in Cuba. Elian has called Castro a friend in interviews, and Castro has called the boy "a leader."

A hostage no more
You may not recognize the name Richard Queen as quickly, but you probably saw a lot of him on TV as a young man in 1980. He was the first of the 53 diplomats taken hostage in Iran in 1979 to be released. He developed multiple sclerosis in captivity, and the need for medical treatment prompted the Iranians to free him after 250 days in captivity, about six months before the others. Cameras filmed him in emaciated condition in a wheelchair upon his return to America, but he recovered to walk and work again for the State Department, as an aide to the U.S. ambassador in London and as a consular officer in Toronto. He occasionally took advantage of the lifetime pass to major league baseball parks that all of the released hostages were given. "Being famous can be very addictive," Mr. Queen once told The Washington Times. "It's fun to sit down among friends and say, 'President Carter told me such and such,' or, 'Dan Rather called this morning.' That's good for the ego. But then after a couple of weeks, I found I just wanted to fade into oblivion." He subsequently married and divorced, and he retired in 1995 after his health deteriorated. He died in 2002, at age 51.

Politics: a dirty business
Another ex-hostage, former journalist Terry Anderson, ran unsuccessfully for a state Senate seat in Ohio in 2004. The campaign was deemed particularly nasty, and Mr. Anderson has moved on to a quieter life as a horse rancher in Athens, where he was formerly an Ohio University journalism professor. Now 58, he was an Associated Press correspondent in Beirut, Lebanon, in 1985 when Shiite Hezbollah terrorists kidnapped him and imprisoned him for six years. He became a multimillionaire after his release as a result of a federal law allowing victims of terrorism to receive damages from Iranian assets frozen in the United States. The terrorist issue was turned against him by his Republican opponent in the Senate race when she accused him of being soft on the issue. She went on to win 55 percent of the vote after her campaign emphasized that Mr. Anderson had questioned, while speaking to university students, whether U.S. policies might have ignited hatred in the Arab world.

First Published: January 9, 2006, 5:00 a.m.