This past month the legendary photojournalist Paul Fusco passed away at the age of 90. Fusco photographed causes of social justice and national importance for nearly 50 years as a member of the prestigious Magnum collective.
One of my all-time favorite series of photographs is a body of work Paul made on an 8-hour train journey from NYC to DC. The ‘RFK Funeral Train’ started as a 4-hour journey from Robert F. Kennedy's funeral mass in NYC to his burial in Arlington National Cemetery but ended up being an 8-hour funeral procession attended by upwards of two million mourners. Fusco was on the train on assignment for Look magazine and was overwhelmed by the showing of American’s paying their respects to RFK. Originally meant to only photograph once in DC, Fusco changed plans as he saw the diverse crowds of people gathering along the tracks and began immediately making photographs as the train rolled out of NYC.
For the remainder of the journey, Fusco made over 1000 frames on Kodak film on three different cameras. I imagine he would have had to change film nearly 25 times during the journey and probably shot everything he had. The changing evening light and the movement of the train would have been incredibly technically difficult to manage and Fusco has said he was only hoping for a handful of frames to be workable. Little did he know of the magnitude of the body of work that would come out of that journey.
“Untitled,” from the series “RFK Funeral Train,” 1968.Photograph by Paul Fusco / Magnum
What is amazing to me is that Fusco was so drawn to the various groups of mourners and onlookers that he focuses and tracks their faces as the train rolls by. The tracking technique is normally used to capture a quick-moving subject, but Fusco uses it here in reverse as he is the one moving. It creates an image in motion with a single focus point of a face in a crowd. As the light diminishes in the evening, Fusco is forced to drag the shutter speed to up to a second, creating a beautiful series of fluid images.
“Untitled,” from the series “RFK Funeral Train,” 1968.Photograph by Paul Fusco / Magnum
“The blow was monumental. Hope-on-the-rise had again been shattered and those in most need of hope crowded the tracks of Bobby’s last train stunned into disbelief and watched that hope trapped in a coffin pass and disappear from their lives” Paul Fusco
“Untitled,” from the series “RFK Funeral Train,” 1968.Photograph by Paul Fusco / Magnum
This week I was asking my Grandma O, who is also 90, about the time after Kennedy’s death. She was telling me that a real sadness had overtaken the country and, in a way, the funeral train was a gift to the people to be able to say their goodbyes to Kennedy. I realized that on some level I already understood, both the sadness and the gift, thanks to Fusco. He poignantly conveyed the nation's sadness, private and public, by focusing on individual families on the outskirts of towns who made the journey to the tracks as well as the hoards of people crowding station platforms. Folks dressed in their Sunday best, work uniforms, and bathing suits stood for hours in the heat, waiting for the coffin to roll by so they could salute a figure of hope.
The sense of national unity in these photographs is so strong to me, especially in contrast to our current state of mind in America. Here, Fusco photographs a million people of different races and ages coming together to pay respects to someone who was meant to bring hope, positive change, and a fight for social justice. I think there was a worry of being forgotten again, adding to the onlookers’ grief. The impoverished, the younger generation, and the divided middle-class were finally beginning to feel heard and helped by Kennedy and the sudden loss weighed heavy.
“Untitled,” from the series “RFK Funeral Train,” 1968.Photograph by Paul Fusco / Magnum
“Untitled,” from the series “RFK Funeral Train,” 1968.Photograph by Paul Fusco / Magnum
My favorite frame from Fusco’s series is a working-class family of seven lined up by height, arms straight at their sides. I wonder how long they waited for the train to roll by and whose idea it was to line up at attention. Apparently, no member of this family has ever been identified since these photographs became public.
Of course, we will never know if Bobby would have won the election to become the President or if he would have fulfilled his promises of peace, racial justice, and solutions for the working poor. Regardless, I feel like the mourning is so palpable on the onlookers’ faces not just because they lost a potential President, but because the idea of a brighter future was also lost that day.
Yet, looking at these images today, even in the despair there is hope. Fusco not only captures the sadness, but the refusal of millions of American’s to ignore the injustice and to stand side-by-side to not only honor Kennedy but to uphold his ideals and support one another in unity. I believe it is true that in pockets of American towns and communities we can see that Kennedy’s ideas did not die with him. Fusco shows us the strength of the people by the tracks even in the midst of their pain, and I’d like to imagine them walking away from those tracks, ready to continue fighting injustice, just as we must continue to do today.
As I am writing this, Rep. John Lewis’ hearse is moving through Black Lives Matter Plaza before arriving in the U.S. Capitol for a ceremony and lying in state. Again, people line the streets to honor Rep. Lewis to remember and be empowered by his lifelong mission of nonviolence, voting rights, and racial equality.
Rest in peace, Paul - your imagery continues to provide hope in these dark times.
“Untitled,” from the series “RFK Funeral Train,” 1968.Photograph by Paul Fusco / Magnum
Surely this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our hearts brothers and countrymen once again. - Robert F. Kennedy