When it came time for the women’s 100-meters she came out onto the track in a sweat suit, and this hush settled over the crowd. Everyone was waiting to see what she was wearing underneath. She peeled out of her sweats and you could hear the “Ooohs” and “Ahhs.” She had on this tremendous purple, one-legged outfit. The crowd and the cameras all zoomed in on her, but she seemed incredibly focused. They put the blocks in place, and Florence settled in. I was sitting down on the track at about the 50-meter line. The gun went off. Everyone was basically together five or 10 meters out of the blocks. Then Florence just broke out. You just saw her fly by alone, vroom, then you saw the rest of the pack behind her. She crossed the finish line, and it was like people knew. After a few seconds the time flashed up onto the scoreboard–10.49 seconds–she had shattered the record.
She dropped down onto her knees and put her hands up to her face. The crowd was roaring. The media crushed in. It was one of those magical moments. She went on to win three gold medals and a silver and to become a celebrity. But it was that day in Indianapolis–that day, that moment–that her star took off.
