Doyle, incredibly, had no idea of her connection to Rosie the Riveter. In fact, she didn't even know about the original inspirational photo, which given her posture, lends an unsettling peeping-Tom vibe to the whole thing. At the time, she'd just graduated high school and, like many other women, had taken a job in a factory in order to support the war effort. American Broach & Machine Co. had her on a metal press in no time at all, probably after a vigorous and thorough safety-training program that only that decade could deliver.
"Wearing dresses around whirring, metal crushing machinery? Why, that's almost as dangerous as letting women wear pants!" - The 1940s
Fearing an injury that could impact her ability to play the cello, Doyle quit after only two weeks on the job. She endured the potential hand crushing long enough for a photographer to snap the picture without her noticing. Someone who did notice, however, was J. Howard Miller, an artist commissioned by the government to draw up some motivating pieces of art.
He kept Doyle's pretty face and red bandanna, but gave her slender build a shot of super-heroine sized muscles. Rosie, though not named as such right away, was born, and went on to inspire countless women.
Doyle told the Lansing (Michigan) State Journal, in the understatement of the century, "You're not supposed to have too much pride, but I can't help have some in that poster. It's just sad I didn't know it was me sooner."
"So, I'm as well known as Mickey Mouse? Yeah, that might have been good to know."