,LIFE photographers have made memorable and intimate images from the clubhouses of America’s National past-time. The Mick, Jackie, Yaz, and many more: Here are some candid inside moments from some great players over the years.
Buzz Thrill: LIFE Goes to a Bee Market
A recent report from the U.S. Department of Agriculture on the still-mysterious and, frankly, frightening phenomenon known as Colony-Collapse Disorder the massive die-off of honeybees throughout the U.S. has cast a worrying light on the health of our small, busy friends. After all, a world without bees, nature’s premier pollinators, would be a dreary, depleted place for us humans. (Not to mention for the bees.)
Here, LIFE.com celebrates the at-once humble and remarkable bee by transporting our readers back six decades, to a bustling bee market in the Netherlands as photographed by Thomas McAvoy. At the annual bee market at Veenendaal “the biggest in Europe,” according to LIFE (August 1956) beekeepers and prospective buyers of bees go through the ancient motions seen at markets the world over, for countless centuries: purchasers considering the wares, haggling over prices, considering the wares again … and eventually, a sale, with (relatively) happy faces all around.
As for the striking first image in this gallery, LIFE explained that beekeeper Gerrit Norssleman “wore the hood to protect his face and eyes from the swarms, had the pipe because its smoke calmed the bees and kept them at a safe distance. His hands, tougher than the sensitive area of his face, were bare so he could handle his bees dexterously without crushing them.”
If only the most dire peril facing bees today was the not-so-dexterous hands of their keepers! Something worth remembering the next time you bite into a peach, a strawberry, an apple, a pear anything that grows with the quiet, restless, diligent help of the irreplaceable bee.
Born Under Fire: Rare Photos From the Birth of Israel
Seven decades ago, in the midst of a civil war and at the tail end of the decades-long British Mandate for Palestine, the state of Israel was born. The post-World War II era’s premier powers the United States and the Soviet Union recognized the young state at once. Official recognition from many other nations took longer; Spain, for example, did not establish diplomatic relations with Israel until 1986.
Many of Israel’s neighbors, meanwhile, as well as more than a score of other countries around the world, from Afghanistan and Algeria to North Korea, Somalia, Yemen and beyond, have never officially recognized Israel, while others that shared diplomatic relations have, at one time or another, suspended or broken ties completely over the years.
Thus, in the years since its birth in May 1948, Israel—a country roughly the size of New Hampshire—has arguably played a more salient (and divisive) role in international geopolitics than any other non-superpower on the planet. Surrounded by enemies, today and at the hour of its creation, Israel remains what it has to some degree always been: a kind of Rorschach state that assumes myriad shapes for myriad observers—aggressor, defender, usurper, bastion, homeland.
For example, far from being universally celebrated, the period when Israel won its independence i.e., the era of civil war and of the war against neighboring Arab states after May 14, 1948 is commemorated by Palestinians as Nakba, or “the catastrophe.” And no wonder, as hundreds of thousands of Palestinians fled or were forced from their homes during, and long after, those wars of the late ’40s. In recent years, the contentious (to put it mildly) issue of Israeli settlements and continued Palestinian displacement on the West Bank has added fuel to what has always been a dangerous, smoldering fire.
In other words, for an awful lot of people around the Mideast and around the world, the intractable “Palestinian problem” might be better characterized as “the Israeli problem.”
In light of this fraught legacy and the nature of the enmities that have, in large part, come to define the region long-time Middle East watchers can perhaps be forgiven a certain pessimism when discussing the prospects for a lasting peace from the eastern Mediterranean to the Arabian Sea.
Here, however, through a series of rare photos most of which never ran in LIFE magazine, LIFE.com looks back not at the Mideast’s thorny, enduring troubles, but at the immediate aftermath of Israel’s independence. A conflict photographer who made some of the most devastating images to emerge from the Second World War, Frank Scherschel brought to his coverage of Israel’s birth a correspondent’s cool, clear eye, and a storyteller’s ability to find the smaller, quieter narratives amid the ruin and chaos of a war-battered landscape.
For its part, in an article published just weeks after Israel’s official independence, LIFE magazine acknowledged the ancient hopes of the Israelis at the dawn of their new nation, while presciently noting that nothing, nothing at all, was ever likely to come easy to the fledgling, embattled state:
In the deepening dusk on May 14, 1948 which to them was the 24th day of the month of Iyar in the 5,708th year after creation the Jews of Palestine gathered in their cities and villages to celebrate the most fateful moment in their history. The British mandate still had eight years to run, but already the last high commissioner, Gen. Sir Alan Cunningham, had retired to the cruiser Eurylas in Haifa harbor. There he sat watching the night creep across he eastern Mediterranean and the twilight envelop yet another fragment of old empire. He was too far offshore to hear the Jews chanting their ancient “Hatikvah” (Song of Hope), but he well knew the words: We have not forgotten, nor shall we forget, our solemn promise. . . .
In the all-Jewish city of Tel Aviv, Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion ended nearly 2,000 years of Jewish longing for a homeland with a great blow of his fist upon the speakers’ table. “The name of our state shall be Israel,” he intoned, and a new nation was born.
Encouragement for the new state was not long in coming. Neither was trouble. Both the U.S. and Russia promptly recognized Israel and thus gave stature to the provisional government. . . .
But as these diplomatic bouquets were tossed, the embittered Arabs threw shells and bombs. From the ring of Arab states around Palestine the long-threatened attack had begun. King Abdullah of [the British protectorate of] Trans-Jordan sent his Arab Legion against Jerusalem and by week’s end had the Jewish defenders compressed into an ever-narrowing sector within the old walled city. Egypt’s planes repeatedly bombed Tel Aviv. Syria, Iraq, Lebanon and Saudi Arabia pitched in for whatever their scattered efforts might be worth. Israel was born indeed, but the Jews would need of the Shield of David to keep their nation alive.
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.
Waco, 1953: Photos From the Aftermath of a Lethal Tornado
On the afternoon of May 11, 1953, an F5 tornado made a direct hit on Waco, Texas. (On the scale for rating rotational intensity created by storm researcher Ted Fujita, an F5 twister is capable of “incredible damage.”) In a matter of minutes, in the face of cyclonic winds that likely topped 300 mph, hundreds of homes and businesses were utterly destroyed; thousands of cars were damaged or totaled; almost 600 people were injured and 114 were killed.
It remains one of the deadliest tornados in American history.
In the immediate aftermath of the tornado, LIFE’s John Dominis and correspondent Scot Leavitt, who had just recently moved to Texas, made their way to the devastated city. All of the photos in this gallery, many of which never ran in LIFE, are Dominis’s; in a note sent to LIFE’s editors in New York, Leavitt noted that “through virtually all [of Dominis’s] shooting, rain fell, the sky was dark and the mood was somber.”
For its part, LIFE wrote of the disaster in its May 25, 1953 issue:
By May 11 the warm, close weather was uncomfortably routine to the people of Waco, Texas. The day before had been muggy and the day before that, too. The big news in the Morning News-Tribune was of a tornado in far-off Minnesota. At mid-morning the New Orleans weather bureau warned there might be a few tornadoes close to home. But an Indian belief that tornadoes would never strike Waco had always held true and no one in the city worried about the report At 1:30 .m. the Waco weather forecaster announced, “No cause for alarm.”
Three hours later the skies suddenly darkened. people scurried for shelter from the hail and slashing rain, and at the edge of town a cemetery workman looked up to see a thick black wedge forming under a low cloud … At 4:37 p.m. the black wedge in the sky struck Fifth and Austin [streets], gouged the earth for a block and left the heart of Waco a broken coffin for scores of schoolboys, housewives, motorists….
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.
Hawaii Before Statehood: Color Photos, 1959
The image and legend of Hawaii as a tropical paradise endures for countless reasons. Few places on earth can boast more dramatic or romantic landscapes; the weather is generally gorgeous; the variety of climates one can encounter within the space of a few miles from arid to tropical to near-alpine to sun-splashed beach is mind-boggling.
But paradise, as we all know, exists only in fairy tales—or, if a paradise did once exist in the Pacific, it long ago gave way to the complex, ambiguous and often politically fraught realities of the modern world. The Hawaii of the travel brochures—as marvelous as it might be in theory, and even at times in fact—is a beautiful construct that often ignores the island chain’s bumpier, and endlessly fascinating, history. (For instance, how many Americans in the contiguous 48 know anything at all about the nonviolent “democratic revolution” of labor strikes and major acts of civil disobedience that roiled the islands in 1954, reshaping Hawaii’s political landscape for all time?)
Here, LIFE.com presents color photographs made in 1959, the year that Hawaii was admitted to the Union. The admission took place on August 21, and in a March 1959 article, “Hawaii Beauty, Wealth, Amiable People,” for which these pictures were shot, LIFE painted a largely rosy picture of the place:
The first proposal to make Hawaii a state was put forward more than a hundred years ago when President Franklin Pierce cast his eyes across the Pacific and proposed that the splendid and strategic islands be taken into the union. Pierce’s plan faded and it was not until 1898 that Hawaii was annexed as a U.S. territory. Proposals to make Hawaii a state have been on the books of Congress for more than 40 years. Now it seems almost certain that in this session Hawaii will achieve its aim. [Hawaii was granted statehood in August 1959.]
As a territory, Hawaii has developed a sturdy economy based on U.S. military expenditures at Pearl Harbor and elsewhere, and on sugar, pineapple, tourism and livestock. The islands, which have a total area roughly that of New Jersey, have bred an incredibly polyglot and racially integrated population of nearly 600,000. This mean that Hawaiian statehood, besides conferring full U.S. status on a potentially rich and decidedly vital area, would also indicate to all the peoples of the Pacific and of Asia that the U.S. can still be the tolerant, hospitable melting pot of old.
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.
Jimmy Stewart, 1945: A War Hero Comes Home
When James Maitland Stewart, the oldest child and only son of Alexander and Elizabeth Stewart of Indiana, Pa., enlisted in the United States Army in 1941, he wasn’t like most privates. For one thing, he was already well into his 30s. For another, he had already been rejected by the military for being too skinny. (The first time around, he was five pounds under the Army’s weight standard for new recruits.) And finally, no other World War II inductee had won a Best Actor Oscar, as Stewart had for his performance as reporter Mike Connor in the 1940 classic, The Philadelphia Story.
Putting his Hollywood career on hold to join the Army Air Corps—a forerunner to today’s Air Force—Stewart ultimately reached the rank of colonel, making him one of few Americans ever to rise from private to colonel in four years. He flew dozens of combat missions, some as command pilot, on sorties deep into Nazi-occupied Europe, and returned from the war on the Queen Elizabeth, covered in medals including the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Distinguished Service Medal.
For the cover story of LIFE magazine’s September 24, 1945 issue, photographer Peter Stackpole followed Stewart as the Hollywood star and war hero returned to his hometown.