LIFE republished V-J Day, 1945, Times Square in 1966. Like earlier LIFE printings, Alfred Eisenstaedt’s gem did not appear on the cover. Sophia Loren did. For this photo she was dressed in a black, see-through negligee. Eisenstaedt took that picture, too. On page 118 of the September 16, 1966, issue, LIFE editors spread out a full-page printing of the kissing sailor photo. The photograph helped promote Eisenstaedt’s new book, Witness to Our Time. The caption over the photo referenced the kissing sailor photo as Eisenstaedt’s most famous picture. Once again, the description did not include the sailor’s or nurse’s names, and it also claimed the picture was taken on V-J Day, September 2, 1945.1 Though Eisenstaedt did not take any notes at the scene of the occurrence, in the picture’s caption he recalled, “When I reached Times Square the kissing spree was in full swing. This sailor had kissed at least a dozen women when I saw him, but this nurse was the most attractive one he grabbed.”
Though the reprinting in LIFE and the publication of Witness to Our Time focused more attention on the V-J Day kissing sailor photo, much of the hoopla surrounding the photo didn’t occur until years after 1966. Nostalgia and the mystery surrounding the kissing sailor’s identity caused a great deal of the later interest.2 The nurse’s identity was less of a fascination for the public. By 1980, most knew who she was.
In 1979 Alfred Eisenstaedt received a letter from Edith Shain, who claimed to be the nurse in his famous photo from the end of World War II. In her letter, Shain claimed she had recognized herself in the photo’s first printing, but she did not share her story beyond a circle of close friends.3 As she explained it, in the 1940s she felt her participation in the photograph lacked proper reserve. However, by the late 1970s she felt the times had changed sufficiently to permit a young lady’s brief relaxation of inhibitions, especially given the moment in time she loosened them.4 Shain explained that an article in the Los Angeles Times about Eisenstaedt and his famous photograph from the end of World War II prompted her to end her self-imposed silence.5 With the changing times, Edith Shain let photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt—and presumably the world—know that she was the nurse kissing the sailor in his cherished photo. The letter she wrote to Eisenstaedt read as follows:
Dear Mr. Eisenstaedt,
Now that I’m 60—it’s fun to admit that I’m the Nurse in your famous shot “of the amorous sailor celebrating V.E. Day by kissing a nurse on New York’s Broadway.” The article in the Los Angeles Times, which described your talents, stimulated the recall of the scene on Broadway. I had left Doctor’s Hospital and wanted to be part of the celebration but the amorous sailor and subsequent soldier motivated a retreat into the next opening of the subway. I wish I could have stored that jubilation and amour for use P.R.N. Mr. Eisenstaedt, is it possible for me to obtain a print of that picture? I would be most appreciative. I regret not having met you on your last trip to Beverly Hills.
Perhaps next time: If not—I’ll understand because “it’s not only hard to catch him . . . it’s hard to keep up with him.” Have fun.
Fondly, Edith Shain6
Interestingly, Shain identified herself as the nurse who got kissed on “V.E. Day” (V-E Day or Victory in Europe occurred on May 8, 1945), a date that also caused a lot of kissing in Times Square. But apparently Alfred Eisenstaedt knew that she confused the days. Upon reading her letter he became excited about meeting the long-lost nurse from his most famous photograph.
In 1980 Alfred Eisenstaedt visited Edith Shain. According to Shain, “He looked at my legs and said I was the one.”7 At some point after looking at Shain’s legs, Eisenstaedt inscribed one of his books to Shain: “The one and only nurse photographed on August 15, 1945 at Times Square, New York City. With Love, Eisie.”8 Shain’s discovery excited Eisenstaedt. In the coming years, Eisenstaedt kept in touch with Shain and even visited with her in New York.9
Edith Shain’s commentaries about her V-J Day picture were published widely. But for the longest time, she had kept her knowledge of the photo to herself. She never secured a copy of the magazine as a keepsake.10 Over the years Shain saw the picture numerous times, as LIFE and other publications reprinted Eisenstaedt’s handiwork.11 Every reprinting offered general captions that spoke more to the larger occasion than the specific incident. Shain knew the precise details, or at least more than all the published captions she read. However, not until more than twenty years of reading the photo’s generic and vague descriptions did she decide to inform friends about her role.12 The story she told fascinated them.13
According to Shain, on August 14, 1945, she worked at the Doctor’s Hospital as a part-time nurse. Upon hearing a radio broadcast that announced the Japanese surrender, she felt an immediate sense of relief.14 For one, the announcement signified an end to the horrors of war for numerous soldiers and sailors. On a more personal note, the announcement “saved” her from joining the Nurse Corps.15 Relief soon gave way to elation. Shortly after the broadcast, the twenty-seven-year-old nurse left the hospital with a female friend and headed to where “New Yorkers go . . . when there’s a celebration, and that’s Times Square.”16 And apparently everyone, including many from outside the city, agreed with Shain’s thoughts on an appropriate meeting place. Upon arriving in Times Square, she recalled, “the street was just wild with people. It was exuberant. They were dashing around and hugging and kissing and we walked in on that.”17
Shain remembered becoming an integral part of that. Just a few skips away from the subway a sailor grabbed her.18 While normally such an incident would be the cause of angst and alarm, on this day, at that moment, many allowed, even welcomed, the intrusion. Besides the occasion’s gaiety and the sailor’s assertiveness, another factor precipitating the happening might be, well, Edith. At this time in her life, Edith Shain recalled, “everyone was kissing me.”19 But this kiss compared favorably to the others. Shain acknowledged this “was a good kiss . . . that went on for a long time. . . . I closed my eyes, I didn’t resist.”20 In another rendition of this story she offered a softer, more romantic version: “It was like a dance step, the way he laid me over in his arms. . . . I just got lost in the moment.”21 According to Shain, if it were not for her girlfriend she would have danced longer.22 Instead, she left the scene immediately, never bothering to ask the sailor’s name or take notice of his appearance. As she later explained, “When he grabbed me, I didn’t see him, and when he kissed me, I didn’t see him because I closed my eyes. And then I turned around and walked the other way . . .”23
Two weeks after Eisenstaedt snapped V-J Day, 1945, Times Square, Shain said she saw her own image on page twenty-seven of LIFE. The longer Edith stared at the full-page picture, the clearer her two-week-old memories came into focus. Though the picture’s angle concealed most of her face from the camera’s viewfinder, the vantage provided enough clearance to support a credible claim to the nurse’s identity. To make her case, Shain took careful inventory of the photographed evidence. She recalled the shoes: white, wide, and high-heeled. That morning she put on stockings, white and lined. Her slip, again white, showed beyond her white dress’ hemline.24 And there was that sailor, assertive and victorious. She recollected herself, too; surprised, supportive, safe and sound.25
Owing to Eisenstaedt and LIFE, when Shain came forward with her story in 1979, almost everyone accepted her claim that she was, indeed, the kissed nurse in the famous photograph. From that point forward, captions that continued to call attention to the sailor’s anonymity often referenced Shain as the photographed partner. Over the years, Shain’s invitations to celebrations, commemorations, and coronations solidified her stature among backward-leaning nurse claimants.
Beginning in 1980, Shain toured the nation as if she were the queen of Times Square. She delivered speeches and partook in reenactments of the V-J Day Times Square kiss. Publications and television programs featured her story. Well-known figures and national organizations ordained her version of events. Celebrities posed for pictures with Shain. In 2007, President George W. Bush presented Shain with a proclamation recognizing her as a symbol of world peace.26 Shain was treated as a national treasure.
Most kissing sailor claimants pursued Shain as if they were Muslim and she was Mecca. They wanted her confirmation of their kiss. Like the original sailor, the aging campaigners employed a youthful vigor that approached the same reckless abandon exercised when, according to them, they overtook a nurse on the day World War II ended. The latter-day pursuit paid dividends, too. Gaining Shain’s blessings of their role in the famous scene, in effect, sanctified their claim with the public.
When Edith Shain died on June 20, 2010, her obituary ran as a major article in newspapers across the country, including the Los Angeles Times, the Wall Street Journal, and the New York Times. A Washington Post headline read, “Anonymously world-famous after WWII photo, she didn’t kiss and tell.” Though articles from the Atlantic to the Pacific mentioned that Shain’s claim as the nurse in Eisenstaedt’s photo remained a point of contention, the underlying message was clear—the nurse in the famous V-J Day photograph had died. The articles praised the nurse who “let” an assertive sailor kiss her at the end of World War II because “he fought for his country.”27 Edith Shain’s passing was covered on national television programs, including the Today Show and NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams. Shortly after her death, Life.com released a statement that declared, “Shain’s claim is the one that, over the years, has held up best and has been widely accepted and most often celebrated.”28
While the nation mourned a precious part of V-J Day, 1945, Times Square, George Mendonsa did not receive a single inquiry from the media. However, Carl Muscarello, another kissing sailor candidate, received enough calls to make his “phone ring off the hook.” He added, “They thought I died.”29 The comments Muscarello offered media outlets about Shain reinforced her part, as well as his own, in the picture that will forever epitomize the end of World War II.
To this day, almost everyone accepts and celebrates Edith Shain as the nurse who was kissed on V-J Day, 1945, in Times Square. After all, even Alfred Eisenstaedt said she was the one.