Lost Horizon

When the twin-engine Cessna 310 disappeared somewhere between Juneau and Anchorage last week, it set off one of the most extensive aerial searches in Alaska's history. More than 70 airplanes and a sophisticated SR-71, the Air Force's highly developed reconnaissance plane, combed the majestically mountainous area and scanned the waters of Prince William Sound seeking traces of the six-passenger craft. The principal object of the search was House Majority Leader Hale Boggs, 58, who was in Alaska campaigning for Congressman Nick Begich. With Boggs and Begich in the plane were Begich's assistant, Russel Brown, and Pilot Don Jonz. According to FAA authorities, Jonz filed a flight plan that would have taken them through the rugged Chugach Mountains, 547 air miles southeast to Juneau.

Though Jonz is considered one of the best of Alaska's bush pilots, he has gained a reputation of being something of a daredevil during his 15 years of flying. He lost his license in 1966 for flying an overweighted airplane in Florida, but was back in good standing with the FAA in 1968. There may still be some questions about his judgment, although flying in Alaska is a dicey enterprise. When the Jonz plane took off from Anchorage, cloudy, turbulent flying conditions were forecast.

Boggs' loss could upset the Democratic power structure in Congress. The majority leader since 1971, he was next in line to become House Speaker, and was one of three top leaders in the House (with Speaker Carl Albert and Minority Leader Gerald Ford). First elected to Congress in 1940, Boggs--after a defeat at the polls and a four-year hitch in the Navy--returned in 1946, and has been there since. Representing an urban and cosmopolitan section of New Orleans, he was not the stereotypical Southern Congressman. Though he joined other Southerners in signing a 1956 manifesto opposing school integration, he dramatically came out in favor of the 1965 Voting Rights Act and three years later voted for the open housing law. Brash and at times arrogant, Boggs had a great talent for booming oratory. He thoroughly enjoyed the clubby conviviality of the Congress, but had a high disregard for the tedium of slow-moving House hearings and meetings. He much preferred more sociable activities. His annual May party at his handsome house on the outskirts of Washington was a celebrated social event, with the guest list running to 2,000.

If Boggs is indeed dead, the state's party leaders may not have sufficient time to put another name on the ballot before the Nov. 7 election. Under constitutional law, the Governor of Louisiana cannot make an interim appointment to fill the Boggs vacancy. Thus, should the Democrats fail to name a substitute, a special election would be held later. Boggs' wife Corinne ("Lindy") Morrison Claiborne, a politically astute and experienced campaigner, is one of several who might be in the running for the job. At week's end the search for Boggs and his companions was continuing, but hope had diminished that they had survived.

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