A simple directive sparked a storied career: ‘Now, take the picture.’

A simple directive sparked a storied career: ‘Now, take the picture.’

Michelle V. Agins was only a child when she caught a murder on camera. She was about 10 or 11 years old, she recently recalled, and was sitting up one night on the top floor of her apartment building on the South Side of Chicago, experimenting with time exposures on some new equipment. She saw a familiar face through her window — a man named Red, in the alley below, flanked by a man to whom he owed money. “I heard Mr. Red saying, ‘Please don’t kill me. Here’s all the money,’” Agins said. “The guy says, ‘No, too late, too late, man.’ And he turned him around and shot him in the back of the head.” The money that had been in Red’s hands went everywhere, with some of it floating into Agins’ family’s backyard. Instead of being scared, Agins did what a particularly pragmatic young person would do: She told her grandmother, whom she lived with, that there was money to be collected downstairs. And after her grandmother went
Michelle V. Agins was only a child when she caught a murder on camera. She was about 10 or 11 years old, she recently recalled, and was sitting up one night on the top floor of her apartment building on the South Side of Chicago, experimenting with time exposures on some new equipment. She saw a familiar face through her window — a man named Red, in the alley below, flanked by a man to whom he owed money. “I heard Mr. Red saying, ‘Please don’t kill me. Here’s all the money,’” Agins said. “The guy says, ‘No, too late, too late, man.’ And he turned him around and shot him in the back of the head.” The money that had been in Red’s hands went everywhere, with some of it floating into Agins’ family’s backyard. Instead of being scared, Agins did what a particularly pragmatic young person would do: She told her grandmother, whom she lived with, that there was money to be collected downstairs. And after her grandmother went