Through a Lens, Darkly — History of an Iconic Picture
“This little girl, this tender little thing, walking with this whole mob baying at her like a pack of wolves” was how Benjamin Fine later described the scene. Once she reached the bus stop, Elizabeth sat herself down at the edge of the empty bench, as if not wanting to take up too much space. “Drag her over to this tree!” someone shouted. A small group of reporters—Jerry Dhonau and Ray Moseley of the Arkansas Gazette, Paul Welch of Life—formed an informal protective cordon around her; it was all that they, as professionals, felt they could do. But Fine sat himself next to Elizabeth and, at a time and place in which whites simply didn’t do such things, put his arm around her, then lifted her chin. “Don’t let them see you cry,” he said. The move inflamed the crowd, made Fine a target for the rest of his stay in Little Rock, and probably hastened his departure from the paper. Years later, he was asked if he’d stepped beyond his assigned role. “A reporter has to be a human being,” he replied.
Moments after Fine had sat with Elizabeth, Robert Schakne of CBS News approached her with a microphone, and stuck it in her face. Television news was still new, and the rules were not yet clear. “Can you tell us who you are?” he asked. “Can you tell me your name, please? Are you going to go to school here at Central High?” Elizabeth said nothing. As the camera rolled, Hazel, still looking cross, passed by Elizabeth and, perhaps for the first time that day, actually saw her face.
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