By N. LA VERL CHBISTENSEN Scripps League Newspapera Ever hear of a major news scoop belng achieved by use of carrler pigeons – a communications devlce dating back to the anclent Egyptians? The Salt lake Tribune and Telegram used pigeons to “scoop the -wm-ld” on pictures of a mountain alr crash 44 years ago. But later the birds (maybe resting on theii;1la;irels) lostlthe “sp to newapapen ” and were fired from Brie staffr – This writer. part-time reporter for The Daily Herald when the “scoop” episode took place, recalls the basic facts. But let’s let personable John W. “Jack ‘ Gallivan. publisher of the Tribune. tell the story. He detailed it in a speech several months ago. in December. 1938. a Western Air Express transport with mail and seven xersons aboard crashe in the snowy peaks above Alpine. 32 miles southeast of Salt lake City (as the pigeon flies.) The wreckage wasn’t spotted until spring six months after the crash. At that time. wire service newsmen and local reporter – photographers matched endurance in the long hike to the crash site. My Herald assignment took me to the hlkestaging area in American Fark anyon but not on the climb itself. Highlydistinguishable among the assembling newsmen was Telegram reporter Bill McDougall, co-hero of Publisher Gallivan’s story, distlnguisable especially because he carried a basket of racing pigeons on his back. (McDougall later served as a UPI World War II correspondent and was a prisoner of the Japanese. He is now Msgr. William McDouglall. rector of the Cat edral of the Madeleinel Gallivan relates how the ace reporter (representing both the Telegram and Tribune. aftemoon – momlng new’sgper combination of t era), trudged along with the party. lending off qulps that fried pigeon would be an approarlate repast for weary h ers. Suddenly the wreckage came into vlew. With professional swittness. McDougall wrote his account oa onion-skin paper. He photographed the wreckage with a 35mm camera. The film and news copy he attached in tubes to the special pigeon harnesses. then released the birds. Back at the Tribune Telegram offices. the racing pigeons soon were pushing the wired gates to their Automatlca ly a red light went on in the newsroom. signalling the return. “A cheer went up.” related Gallivan. The pigeons were on the threshold of their scoop! Other papers would have to wait for pictures untll their photographer made the long mountain descent. Awed by the pigeons’ triumph. the two papers now gave the birds “sacred cow” status. Galllvan, named promotion manager in the early World War II years. frequently was reminded of this. How could he forget? With the wartime personnel shortage. he was placed in charge of thexxigeonsl ” e tried for years for another Alpine crashgpc pigeon scoop.” said allivan. “but could never bring it olf.” To use the pigeons, he turned more to “feature-type” promotions. “Once. in one of my better efforts, we took the birds to a University of Utah football homecoming game and snapped half-time pictures of the queens. The story and fllm were attached to the pigeon harnesses – al with meticulous description on the P. A. system.” Then at the climactic moment. the birds were released for the race back to the office. Galllvan laughs about it now, but what happened wasn’!. funny then. “The pigeons circled the field once, according to plan. Then. not according to plan, they perched on the north goal post and cooed , soltly throughout the se cond half. “1’hey were still there st the end of the game when l beat them into flight with a broom amidst no applause whatsoever.”