Ryan Kim of San Francisco Examiner Staff . July 02, 2000
Against bedroom wall -- 'you think about so many things in 53 seconds'
With his back pressed against a bedroom wall, photographer Alan Diaz had almost a minute to contemplate what would happen when armed federal agents burst through the door to seize 6-year-old Elián González.
It was perhaps the longest minute of his life.
"You think about so many things in 53 seconds. It's amazing," said the photographer on Saturday, recalling the predawn raid of April 22, which he captured in a picture quickly seen around the world: a U.S. Border Patrol agent with an automatic rifle confronting Elián, and the
man who was holding him, in a closet.
Diaz heard the shouts of men and women outside, trying to forestall the inevitable. Inside the bedroom of Elián's great-uncle, Lázaro Gonzalez, Diaz worried whether the federal agents storming the house would harm him.
"I thought if I get in the house to get the shot, they're coming for me, too," said the Miami photographer.
Instead, the agents took Elián and allowed Diaz to snap the pictures that would rank among the defining images of the drawn-out saga of the Cuban boy.
For the first time on Saturday, before about 100 peers at the National Press Photographers Association convention in San Francisco, Diaz talked at length about those shots and his work at the Little Havana home of Elián's Miami relatives.
The Elián saga concluded Wednesday after the boy flew back to Cuba with his father, following unsuccessful attempts by the Miami relatives to keep him in the United States. Ever the professional, Diaz declined to share his feelings about Elián and the boy's return to Cuba.
"I haven't given it much thought," said Diaz, a photographer since 1972. "My personal feelings are irrelevant."
Dressed in a brown blazer and navy shirt, his graying hair pulled back in a ponytail, Diaz, 53, apologized at the start for not being a better storyteller. He talked in a measured voice, occasionally eliciting laughter with his deadpan observations.
Friend of the family
Diaz said he was assigned the story by Associated Press, the wire service for which he worked as a freelancer, five days after Elián's arrival in the country.
Elián was rescued on Thanksgiving Day, clinging to a raft in shark-infested waters off the coast of Florida. His mother and 10 others fleeing Cuba had drowned during the trip.
Lázaro Gonzalez laughed when Diaz first showed up asking for a shot of the boy.
"He said, 'Man, if you don't have a photo of Elián by now, you're in bad shape,' " recalled Diaz, who was hired two weeks ago as a staff photographer for AP.
After taking one roll of film on that first day, Diaz - who is of Cuban descent - continued to come by daily, chatting with the family more than shooting. It was the start of a relationship in which Diaz would become one of the Miami relatives' favorite journalists.
By Dec. 7, when Castro declared he wanted Elián returned to Cuba, Diaz began to realize how large a story he was covering. In January, when Elián's grandmothers arrived in the United States to visit their grandchild, the media descended on Lázaro Gonzalez's home.
By then, Diaz had become friendly with the television crews patrolling the house. They were connected by two-way radios and had plans to cover each other in the event something happened.
Shooting spots set up
"It was like a brotherhood," said Diaz. "It was total trust. Everything I knew, they knew. Everything they knew, I knew."
Diaz had set up three camera positions, including a spot in the next door neighbor's side yard. He also had arranged with four nearby homeowners to transmit images via modem. Some gave him keys to come and go as he pleased.
In March, the media circus intensified after U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno said the U.S. government should release Elián. AP sent two more photographers to back up Diaz.
Three weeks before the April 22 seizure, Diaz abandoned the other camera positions and settled into his spot in the next-door neighbor's yard. He felt he had the best access to the house in the event of a raid.
"My hunch was there three weeks before," he said. "Maybe it was premature, but it was pretty close."
The day before the raid, Diaz said he could sense something was going to happen. He noticed unfamiliar faces in the crowd outside, while a helicopter he had never seen before buzzed the house. Lázaro Gonzalez told Diaz that if anything happened that night, he wanted the photographer
there.
Tension builds
As Friday, April 21, became the early hours of April 22, Diaz was talking with another still photographer when he heard TV crews use the code word "Peter Pan" on the two-way radio, alerting him to the raid.
"Right then, I heard a stampede," said Diaz. "It was a lot of boots running on grass."
Diaz jumped the fence while an NBC cameraman followed. The family ushered Diaz into the house, and he headed toward the room where Elián had slept. To his horror, no one was there. The NBC cameraman had set up in the living room but was unable to transmit live images because federal
agents pulled the plug on his camera.
Diaz then bolted for Lázaro's bedroom, where he caught a glimpse of Donato Dalrymple, the fisherman who had saved Elián, cradling the boy in the closet. Diaz took a photo of them in case federal agents prevented him from taking more pictures.
He reassured Elián in Spanish, but gave Dalrymple a different story.
"I said, 'There's nothing to do, it's all over,' " said Diaz.
Could not 'back off'
While the fury reached a crescendo outside the bedroom, Diaz trained his camera on the bedroom door. After three large booms, the door burst open and the now-famous U.S. Border Patrol agent in riot gear rushed to grab Elián. As the agent ordered Diaz to "back off," Diaz
continued to take photos, ignoring more orders to "back off."
"I couldn't back off," Diaz said. "There was nowhere to go. I had a wall behind me."
Diaz followed the agents out of the room and grabbed a few pictures of the family in agony. He left the house and handed a disk with his pictures to a waiting AP photographer.
Dazed and drained, Diaz sought refuge in a neighbor's home while protesters worked themselves into a frenzy. He was too wired, however, to sleep. Later that afternoon, at about 2 p.m., the owner of the home told a bewildered Diaz about his pictures.
Diaz expected to see them in the next day's papers. Instead, he was overwhelmed to see them on CNN and every other news channel.
"It was a strange feeling," he said.
For love, not money
In the following days, fellow photographers and others asked Diaz why he hadn't tried to sell his pictures instead of giving them to AP. Diaz said he was hired by AP for five months to work at an above-rate daily pay, a virtual luxury for a freelancer.
"I'm in this because I love it and I think I did the right thing," said Diaz.
He also dismisses talk of a sure Pulitzer Prize. He said he didn't work for that end.
After the five-month assignment, Diaz moved on to other work. His only other shot of the Miami relatives came last week when Elián was returned to Cuba.
While aware of the significance of his photographs, Diaz downplays his work.
"I did my job and that's all I did," he said. "It's the greatest story I've ever covered."
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