In July 1967, on a sweltering afternoon in Jacksonville, Florida, a photographer named Rocco Morabito was driving near West 26th Street, feeling uninspired and slightly bored as he headed out to cover what he thought would be another routine assignment. At the time, Morabito was a staff photographer for the Jacksonville Journal, accustomed to shooting local events, small-town stories, and portraits that filled the daily paper.
What he could not have imagined was that within minutes, he would witness a moment so extraordinary that it would not only save his career but also etch his name into the history of American photojournalism. Ahead of him, two electrical linemen from the Jacksonville Electric Authority were conducting maintenance work on the power grid. For them, it was supposed to be another day on the job, testing lines and making routine repairs. But that day, tragedy struck. One of the men, identified as J.D. Thompson’s colleague Randall Champion, made accidental contact with a live high-voltage line. In an instant, more than 4,000 volts surged through Champion’s body. His heart stopped almost immediately.
To put the severity in perspective, an electric chair used for executions delivered around 2,000 volts—Champion had just absorbed double that amount. The shock left him lifeless, suspended at the top of the pole, held in place only by his safety harness. Below him was J.D. Thompson, another lineman and his close colleague, who realized in an instant that his partner’s life was slipping away before his eyes. Acting on instinct, Thompson climbed quickly up the pole, unhooked his equipment, and maneuvered himself into a position where he could attempt to save Champion.
Without hesitation, he pressed his mouth to his colleague’s and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation high above the street, balanced precariously on the wooden pole, surrounded by bystanders who gasped in shock at the surreal scene unfolding overhead. It was at this very moment that Morabito, now alerted by the commotion and the sight of people staring upward, slammed on his brakes and grabbed his camera. He rushed toward the scene, knowing instinctively that what he was witnessing was something rare and powerful. He snapped photos as Thompson fought desperately to bring Champion back, his body straining with effort, sweat pouring down his face, his lips pressed firmly against his colleague’s in a life-or-death struggle.
The drama played out silently for Morabito’s lens, while onlookers stood frozen below. Seconds turned to minutes, but finally, against all odds, Champion showed signs of life. A faint breath, a weak movement—hope had returned. Bystanders rushed in to help, and when the ambulance finally arrived, the paramedics were able to stabilize Champion and rush him to the hospital. Incredibly, he survived. For Thompson, it was an act of courage, a refusal to give up on his fellow worker even in the face of what seemed like certain death. For Morabito, it was a moment of chance that he captured with his camera, an image that would forever be remembered as one of the most powerful photographs of the twentieth century.
Initially, Morabito feared he would be reprimanded, even fired, for failing to cover the mundane assignment he had been sent out for. Instead, his editor recognized immediately the power of the image. Published in the Jacksonville Journal, the photograph spread rapidly across the United States and beyond. Newspapers and magazines around the world reprinted it, captivated by the raw humanity it displayed. In 1968, the image earned Morabito journalism’s highest honor—the Pulitzer Prize for Spot News Photography. His editor famously referred to the image as “The Kiss of Life,” a title that perfectly captured both the literal and symbolic meaning of the moment. It showed not romance, but salvation.
It reminded people of the strength of human bonds, of the bravery that ordinary workers can show, and of the fragile line between life and death. Today, decades later, the photograph still resonates. It has been reproduced in countless textbooks, documentaries, and retrospectives on journalism. For Champion, it was the day his life was saved by the quick actions of a colleague. For Thompson, it was the day he embodied the highest ideals of courage and loyalty. And for Morabito, it was the day fate intervened and elevated him from a routine portrait photographer to a Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist.
The story behind the “Kiss of Life” is more than just the tale of a shocking accident. It is a reminder of the unpredictability of life, of how an ordinary afternoon can suddenly become extraordinary, and of how one person’s courage and another person’s camera can come together to create an enduring piece of history. What began as boredom for Morabito became the turning point of his career, and what began as tragedy for Champion ended as a miracle of survival. The photograph remains one of the most iconic images of human resilience, proof that sometimes life is preserved not in hospitals or laboratories, but in the split-second courage of someone unwilling to give up.
