Scott Hollifield: Donner Party, your apology is ready

The journalism community may find this hard to swallow, but it's possible we owe the Donner Party an apology.

New research suggests they weren't the cannibals we said they were.

Oops.

First a little background: In 1846, 87 pioneers set out for California. Due to a series of mishaps - including a rear-end collision that occurred when Ephraim was texting while riding - the group found itself stranded in the Sierra Nevada mountains during one of the harshest winters on record.

Only 48 (or 47, or 46, depending on which account you read) would survive to eventually reach California. And some in the party, history tells us, resorted to cannibalism when food ran out.

Or maybe not.

According to a story from The Tahoe Daily Tribune and reports in other media outlets, a team led by Gwen Robbins, an anthropology professor at Appalachian State University, completed a study of bones found at a Donner Party campsite. They identified fragments belonging to dogs, cattle, deer and horses but nothing formerly human.

The findings will be published in the July issue of the journal "American Antiquity" (which is also rumored to include a smoking-hot centerfold of Betty White).

"What we have demonstrated is that there is no evidence for cannibalism," Robbins told Discovery News.

So, who's to blame for what may be unfounded tales of flesh munching?

The media.

"Victorian Era journalists, who embellished the accounts provided by the 47 survivors, largely fueled the legend of the Donner Party cannibalism," writes Jennifer Viegas for Discovery News.

"Newspapers were primarily responsible for promoting allegations of cannibalism, which was fiercely denied by the Donner Party survivors," concludes a story from HealthDay.

Oops. Sorry. Our bad.

In our defense, though, it was a different time in journalism. In the rough-and-tumble 1840s, newspapers, fearing the impact of the Internet a mere 150 years down the road, would often turn to sensationalism to boost sales and best the competition. Here's a typical newsroom meeting from that era:

"I suppose you ink-stained wretches saw Page 1 of The Gazette today. Farmer McAlister's two-headed cow splashed all over the front page. And what's our headline? "MRS. RILEY KNITS BLANKET." Really? They've got a two-headed cow and we've got old lady Riley cackling about a purl stitch? You bums better be glad there's no global system of interconnected computer networks to instantly transmit information because you would be out of a job. I want something juicy for the next edition. Tucker, what have you got?"

"President James K. Polk is a socialist."

"We wrote that last week. Simmons?"

"Farmer McAlister's two-headed cow mysteriously dies."

"Did it?"

"Not yet. But I know a guy who knows a guy..."

"Promising. How about you, Jackson?"

"The Donner Party just rolled into town."

"Do they have a two-headed cow?"

"No, but they had a rough go of it in the Sierra Nevada. Only 48 or 47 or 46 of them survived the harsh winter."

"Boring."

"It's actually a remarkable tale of bad fortune, survival and, ultimately, the triumph of the human spirit, chief."

"I could not be more bored."

"OK. There are rumors, and these are unfounded rumors at best, most of which can be attributed to Toothless Bill the town drunk, that they were forced to engage in cannibalism."

"GO WITH IT!"

"But chief, what if it's not true? These are horrible accusations."

"Look, Jackson, nobody's going to remember this story years from now. And if they do, and we're wrong, we'll leave it to some knucklehead who's stupid enough to still be in the newspaper business to correct it."

I guess that's me.

CORRECTION: In a February 1847 story, we incorrectly stated the Donner Party resorted to cannibalism during its ordeal. Also, in the same edition, we incorrectly reported that President James K. Polk killed Farmer McAlister's two-headed cow with a sickle. We regret both errors.