On August 14, 1945, World War II finally, blessedly ended. Cue the collective sigh of relief, the impromptu street parties, and, if you were in Times Square, an absolute deluge of sailors and citizens celebrating Japan's surrender. It was chaotic, jubilant, and exactly the kind of scene a photographer dreams of.
Enter Alfred Eisenstaedt, who was on assignment for LIFE Magazine, snapping away at all the impromptu embraces. Among the celebrating masses were 21-year-old George Mendonsa, a sailor fresh back from the Pacific, and 21-year-old Greta Zimmer Friedman, a dental assistant on her lunch break. They would later become the unwitting stars of "The Kissing Sailor," one of the most famous photos of the 20th century.
A Sailor's Impromptu Celebration
Mendonsa, by his own admission, had enjoyed a few celebratory drinks. The war was over, the adrenaline was pumping, and he was, as he later put it, "caught up in the excitement." Spotting Friedman in her white dress, he simply grabbed her and planted a kiss. Eisenstaedt, with impeccable timing, captured the spontaneous moment.
We're a new kind of news feed.
Regular news is designed to drain you. We're a non-profit built to restore you. Every story we publish is scored for impact, progress, and hope.
Start Your News DetoxMendonsa later recalled, with a certain dry charm, that he considered her "one of the troops." Which, if you think about it, is an interesting way to categorize someone you've just swept into a passionate public embrace. He even tried to sue TIME Inc. for publishing the photo years later, a lawsuit he eventually dropped. Mendonsa passed away in 2019 at the ripe old age of 95.
The Woman in White
For decades, many assumed the woman was a nurse, a romantic trope for the returning hero. But Friedman was actually a dental assistant, on her way back from work when she got swept into the Times Square euphoria. It wasn't until nearly two decades later that she saw the photo and recognized herself.
"It's exactly my figure, what I wore, and especially my hairdo," she told The Library of Congress in 2005. She sent photos to LIFE, and in 1980, they confirmed it was her. Eisenstaedt even signed her picture and, rather charmingly, apologized. Friedman emphasized that the kiss was anything but romantic. "I felt that he was very strong. He was just holding me tight... It was simply someone celebrating. It wasn’t a romantic event; it was just the feeling of 'thank God the war is over.'" She passed in 2016 at 92.
Eisenstaedt himself described seeing a sailor "running along the street grabbing any and every girl in sight." He turned, saw "something white being grabbed," and clicked. The white dress and uniform, he noted, made the picture pop. And pop it did, becoming an enduring symbol of a nation's relief, even if the backstory was a little less Hollywood and a little more human impulse. Which, in its own way, is even better.
