Earlier this week I was catching up on reading a few of my favorite blogs when I followed a link on Siri's that led me to a book titled Paul Fusco: RFK. Five minutes later I turned on the television and there on the screen was a documentary titled One Thousand Pictures: RFK's Last Journey. It was a bit of a kismet moment and I knew I had to investigate more. Here is a bit of what I learned:
"On June 6, 1968, in the midst of his campaign to be president of the United States, Robert F. Kennedy died from an assassin's bullet. Two days later, after a funeral mass in New York City, his casket was placed on a special train bound for Arlington National Cemetery. A journey that should have taken hours took all day, as thousands of Americans lined the 225 miles of track in a spontaneous outpouring of grief. Paul Fusco was the only journalist on the train, and he ended up taking more than a thousand pictures from his window."
I was completely transfixed watching the documentary and seeing these photos. Not to sound overly dramatic but these photographs are truly a moment in history captured on film; the looks on the peoples faces, the mix of races all standing together at a time when most people were segregated, the way the motion of the train left the photos slightly blurred and dream-like. I just can't stop looking at them.
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