Sport: The Fastest Female

From the moment she first sped down the track of Rome’s Olympic Stadium, there was no doubt that she was the fastest woman the world had ever seen. But that was only part of the appeal of the shy, 20-year-old Negro girl from Clarksville, Tenn. In a field of female endeavor in which the greatest stars have often been characterized by overdeveloped muscles and underdeveloped glands, Wilma (“Skeeter”) Rudolph had long, lissome legs and a pert charm that caused an admiring Italian press to dub her “the Black Pearl.” Last week Wilma Rudolph became the only track star, male or female of any country, to win three gold medals in the 1960 Olympics.

Running for gold-medal glory, Wilma Rudolph regularly got away to good starts with her arms pumping in classic style, then smoothly shifted gears to a flowing stride that made the rest of the pack seem to be churning on a treadmill. She tied the world record of 11.3 sec. in the 100 meters and won the final by three yds. She set an Olympic record of 23.2 sec. in the 200 meters and won the final by another three yds. Then, running with three of her Tigerbelle teammates from Tennessee State, Wilma anchored the winning 400-meter relay team and became the first American girl ever to win three gold medals in track.

The wonder was that Wilma Rudolph could run at all. The 17th in a family of 19 children, Wilma had a series of crippling childhood diseases, did not walk until she was eight, and then had to wear a hightop, corrective shoe. By high school, Wilma had improved enough to become a four-year, all-state basketball player and to clean up in track. Now a junior at Tennessee State, Wilma is studying to be a teacher (average grade: B plus), has so little trouble winning races in the U.S. that she has sometimes slowed down in mid-sprint to shout encouragement to a teammate.

In Rome Wilma turned out to be about the calmest person on the U.S. squad, contrasting sharply with her steady date, tense and tormented Sprinter Ray Norton. “There’s not a nerve in her body,” said Ed Temple, her college coach, who also handled the U.S. women’s team in Rome. “She’s almost lazy. She often goes to sleep between the semifinal and final runs. Then she gets over those starting blocks and—boom—all that harnessed energy explodes into speed.”

As her fame grew, Wilma got dozens of telegrams in a smattering of languages. She patiently signed autographs by the dozen as Italian fans threw their books down on the field. The home-town Clarksville Leaf-Chronicle ran a laudatory editorial (“an inspiration to the world in general”), and Tennessee’s Governor Buford Ellington, who had run for office as an “oldfashioned segregationist,” made plans to head the welcome-home party. When the Olympics were done. Coach Temple could find only one fault with the record of the world’s fastest woman: “Wilma’s never been tested since she came into her form. We don’t know how fast she really can go.”