Filo won the Pulitzer Prize in 1971 for this photo

A young woman approached Miller's body.
"You could see the horror start to well up within her," he said. The emotion was obvious on her face, and he knew he had the right shot when she let loose a deep, sorrowful, horrified scream.
"It wasn't the visual that said 'get this,' it was the audio," Filo later acknowledged.
Filo won the Pulitzer Prize in 1971 for this photo. (©John Paul Filo)After Filo shot that photo, which later won a Pulitzer Prize, he headed back into Taylor Hall. The campus was being closed, and he had to get the film out.
But as he was leaving the scene of the shooting, he wondered if it all had actually happened.
"I thought, Did I snap that shutter, or did I dream those pictures?' " he remembered. " Did I actually see that?' I had to walk up to that sculpture and see the bullet hole - and sure enough, there was a hole."
Paranoia began to overcome Filo as he started to head out of Kent. He knew he had to get the film out of Kent so it could be published, and he feared FBI officials would confiscate it before he got out of town.
He heard radio reports of a "shoot-out" that left two students and two guardsmen dead. "Something sinister - something worse than the shootings - was happening here, I thought. I just said, "Hey, I've got to get this film out of here.' "
Filo, who wore a beard and shoulder-length hair, thought he would be stopped and searched by the FBI at roadblocks at intersections around the city, so he sneaked out to State Route 43 via the side streets. To protect his film, he tucked a couple rolls in his socks and several more throughout his "luxury-appointed Volkswagen."
Filo drove 110 miles that afternoon to get away from Kent and away from the shootings that were haunting him. His heart pumped all the way. He headed for the Valley Daily News (now Valley News Dispatch) in Tarentum, Pa., where he had worked part-time as a photographer after high school. He did not stop even to make a phone call until he was in Pennsylvania. When he arrived at the newspaper, Filo's first priority was to develop the film and get the prints out on the Associated Press wire.
After the film was developed by an automatic film processing machine, photo editor Chuck Carroll realized Filo's pictures were important. Carroll copyrighted the photos, then he and Filo called the Associated Press to get the photos sent out on the wire.
"Why are you bothering us?" the AP's network monitor in New York barked at them. "The Akron Beacon Journal has got photos of this shoot-out in Kent, Ohio."
A frustrated Filo tried to explain that even though the 20,000-circulation newspaper was in western Pennsylvania, he also had some good photos.
When photos are transmitted for the AP, they are "sent" over sophisticated AT&T telephone lines. It takes eight to 10 minutes for each photo to transmit, and just one photo at a time can be sent from anywhere in the country.
Somehow, the Beacon Journal took a break from transmitting photos long enough to allow Filo to send one photo - the one that won the Pulitzer in 1971.
"After we sent that photo, there was this long silence from the AP, and we weren't sure if they'd received it," Filo recalled, a small smile slowly creeping across his face. "After a few minutes, the AP said, "Uh, we're going to start taking more from the Daily News for a while.