There was a time in the post-World War II era when William Clarence “Billy” Eckstine (1914-1993) was, for millions of fans and peers around the world, one of the most influential singers and bandleaders of the age. Women and girls and, no doubt, more than a few men and boys swooned over him; young musicians wanted to dress, sound and look like him; music clubs and recording studios wanted to book him. The names of the vocalists and jazz legends who played in Eckstine’s big band, meanwhile, is a Who’s Who of early, mid-1940s bebop: Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, Sarah Vaughan, Art Blakey, Dizzy Gillespie, Dexter Gordon and more.
All the more mysterious, then, why hearing Eckstine’s name not to mention his music in discussions of jazz greats is such a rarity today. After all, an artist who made an impact on giants ranging from Duke Ellington (who played in Eckstine’s big band) to Quincy Jones (who looked up to him as “an idol”) deserves to be celebrated.
Here, on what would have been Billy Eckstine’s 100th birthday he was born July 8, 1914, in Pittsburgh, Penn. LIFE.com remembers the music pioneer and style icon with a marvelous Martha Holmes photo that both captures the man’s charisma and highlights the adoration he inspired in his fans.
Billy Eckstine, New York, 1949
Martha Holmes The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
“Do you want a ‘real’ experience to talk about when you get home from your vacation? Come and get yourself Activationized!”
This intriguing invitation, LIFE magazine informed its no-doubt head-scratching readers in August 1948, had been distributed on posters and flyers around Cape Cod’s Provincetown that summer in order to entice potential devotees and to signal the birth of what LIFE (tongue-in-cheekily) classified as a brand-new American “cult”: Activationism.
Activationism’s founder and driving creative force, Milton Hood Ward, “counseled his followers, which included housewives, waitresses, fishermen and would-be artists, to uncork their emotions all over the place. ‘Activate or Deteriorate’ was his motto.
“A composer and press agent,” LIFE went on, Ward “figured that inhibited Americans would feel better if they [danced] … Although Activationist practices varied widely, they generally started with group calisthenics and chanting and went on through progressive frenzies to extemporaneous dancing and ad lib yelling.
“At Provincetown,” the 1948 LIFE article continued, “where crazy summertime goings-on are [quite common], not many Activationists took their cult seriously. Ward, however, thinks he may have started something, and plans to introduce Activationism to New York this fall in an art gallery, a nightclub, and Carnegie Hall.”
Alas, other than photographs by LIFE photographer Martha Holmes, there are few records indicating that Activationism survived past that one magical New England summer. All these years later, in an age of seemingly ceaseless anxiety and sky-high levels of stress, Americans (and most everyone else on the planet) could probably benefit from the emergence of another harmless, playful, free-spirited new “cult.” Is it too much to hope that, someday, a handful of creative souls might reawaken the Activationist spirit that briefly flowered, long ago, on the beaches of Cape Cod?
Liz Ronk, who edited this gallery, is the Photo Editor for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.
All people, everywhere, share one elemental characteristic: sooner or later, we all die. But along with that shared mortality comes another, perhaps less-bleak, common thread: the urge to leave a mark, a personalized stamp on the world, so others will know we were here.
Photographer Vernon Merritt III captured a manifestation of this innate human need in a picture he made in New York City in 1969. The movingly straightforward message of the graffiti in Merritt’s photo “Kevin was here” suggests a longing, at its core, for human connection. It’s also reminiscent of the graffiti left around the globe by U.S. troops during World War II, “Kilroy Was Here,” which made its way into the popular culture of the time. (LIFE magazine even ran an ad at one point mentioning that servicemen took solace in knowing that wherever they went, “Kilroy” was there, too.)
Today, in a world increasingly dominated by technology, countless people seem to feel they exist only as long as their status updates and tweets are seen and “liked.” And yet, despite the online noise, some of us still embrace traditional ways to make ourselves seen, and heard. From faceless, rebellious teens (and preteens, and even adults) keeping old methods alive tagging buildings, bridges, and other structures to megastars like Beyoncé, with her haunting song, “I Was Here,” humans continue to leave their mark. In the Digital Age, tangibility might be dying away but the cry for acknowledgement and connection remains very much alive.
Katie Yee is a native New Yorker, an undergraduate studying Literature and Psychology at Bennington College, and an editorial assistant at Tweed’s Magazine of Literature & Art.
Graffiti, NYC, 1969
Vernon Merritt III The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
It’s one of the most immediately recognizable photographic sequences ever made: Ralph Morse’s dizzying pentaptych capturing the July 16, 1969, liftoff of Apollo 11. Here, in five narrow frames, we witness and celebrate a distillation of the creativity, the intellectual rigor, the engineering prowess and the fearlessness that defined the best of the Space Race.
But for all of their emotional and historical heft, Morse’s pictures also present a question: How the hell did he do that?
In 2014 Morse, who died later that year at the age of 97, spoke with LIFE.com, and briefly described how the sequence came about.
“You have to realize,” he said, “that the rocket had to go through the camera, in a sense. It had to go through the camera’s field of view. It took me two years to get NASA to agree to let me make this shot. Now, RCA had the camera contract at Cape Canaveral at that time, and they had a steel box with optical glass attached to the launch platform. We negotiated a deal with them and I was able to put a Nikon, with maybe 30 or 40 feet of film, inside the box, looking out through the glass. The camera was wired into the launch countdown, and at around minus-four seconds the camera started shooting something like ten frames per second.
“It was probably less than an hour after liftoff when we rode the elevator back up the launch tower and retrieved the camera and film from inside that steel box.”
In addition to the launch sequence this gallery also includes a photo of Neil Armstrong’s wife, Jan, with sons Erik and Mark, watching the launch of Apollo 11 from the deck of a boat rented for them by LIFE magazine. The scene, as captured by LIFE’s Vernon Merritt III, is a quiet reminder that the mission to the moon was not only an epic public spectacle. It was also a human adventure, shared by the astronauts and those closest to them.
The gantry retracted while Saturn V boosters lifted the Apollo 11 astronauts toward the moon, July 16, 1969.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Jan Armstrong, wife of Apollo 11 astronaut Neil Armstrong, and her sons watched the rocket’s liftoff.
Vernon Merritt III The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
For millions of people who witnessed the Apollo 11 mission, watching on television or following it on the radio as humanity improbably, literally walked on the moon, the event perhaps did not feel quite real until, more than two weeks later, LIFE published its definitive account of the epic journey.
Waiting two weeks was simply the price one paid for getting it right. One look through the page spreads in this gallery (we recommend viewing all of the slides in “full screen” mode) makes it clear that, with this special issue, LIFE created not only the best first draft of history around the 1969 lunar landing, but produced an astonishingly comprehensive, coherent and, at times, poetic account of what LIFE’s editors called “history’s greatest exploration.”
As Neil Armstrong and his fellow astronauts Buzz Aldrin and command module pilot Michael Collins reached out for destiny all those years ago, 500 million people around the world watched in awe as the grainy black-and-white television footage beamed back to Earth from the cold surface of the moon and it seemed then, for America, that anything was possible. In a sense, LIFE magazine shared in that triumph, as it had rigorously followed and reported on the soaring successes and the tragedies of America’s space program since well before President John Kennedy, in 1961, challenged the country to set foot on the moon.
Less than a decade after JFK’s bold proclamation, America did just that. This is what it looked like, and what it felt like, to be a part of it for the three men who flew, and for the countless others on Earth who watched, and marveled, and willed the trio safely back home.
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969.
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. July 20, 1969: “Neil Armstrong’s booted foot pressed firmly in the lunar soil. . . .”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “In orbit 63 miles high the Lunar Module approaches the landing zone.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “The Eagle has landed.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Buzz Aldrin eased down Eagle‘s ladder, paused on the last rung and jumped the final three feet.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Aldrin’s gold visor mirrored Eagle and Armstrong, who took most of these pictures.”
LIFE Magazine
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Aldrin walked from the Lunar Module to set up two experimental packages—the laser beam reflector and the seismometer.”
LIFE Magazine
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Adrin made final adjustments to the seisometer, left behind to monitor possible moon quakes. Earlier he unfurled the ‘solar wind sheet,’ designed to trap tiny particles hurled from the distant Sun.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Nine hours after his arrival, man had littered the moonscape with his paraphernalia.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “On the windless plain Aldrin saluted the American flag, stiffened with wire so that it would ‘wave’. . . .”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Eagle landed 125 feet west of a rock strewn-crater, several feet deep and 80 feet across.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Left: Aldrin inspected the condition of the Lunar Modules footpad. Right: The view from Eagle‘s window after the walk.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “The simplest mark of man’s first visit footprints in the fine moon sand.”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “As seen at some distance from Columbia, Eagle rolled left and closed for rendezvous 69 miles above moon …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Eagle turned its docking port towards Columbia moments before hookup. earth is in upper right corner of large picture …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Tired but triumphant Armstrong got ready for the trip back …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Left:The plaque left behind with the Lunar Module’s descent stage. Right: Aldrin, Collins and Armstrong heroes of history’s greatest exploration …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Three kids bound for the moon. From left: Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Neil Armstrong: He could fly before he could drive …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Despite a relentless schedule Armstrong sometimes found moments for normal family life …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Away from work Armstrong enjoyed a few frivolous moments …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Edwin ‘Buzz’ Aldrin: ‘The best scientific mind in space’ …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Aldrin is like most astronauts, an exercise buff who spends nearly an hour a day keeping fit …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Aldrin with his wife and daughter …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Mike Collins: An engineer who does not love machines …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Before the moon flight Collins spent time at home with his family …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Collins with his wife and daughter …”
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “A Calendar of Space Flight: Man’s Countdown for the Moon …”
LIFE Magazine
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “A Calendar of Space Flight: Man’s Countdown for the Moon …”
LIFE Magazine
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “A Calendar of Space Flight: Man’s Countdown for the Moon …”
LIFE Magazine
LIFE magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “A Calendar of Space Flight: Man’s Countdown for the Moon …”
LIFE Magazine
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Unlocking the ancient mysteries of the Moon …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Anatomy of the Lunar Receiving Lab …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “What the Moon Samples Might Tell Us …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “What the Moon Samples Might Tell Us …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “So long to the good old moon …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “So long to the good old moon …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “The dawn of the day man left his planetary cradle. Right: Armstrong led the way from gantry to spacecraft …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Apollo 11 lifts off …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Journalists— nearly 3,500 of them from the U.S. and 55 other countries — watched in hushed expectant awe as Apollo began its slow climb skyward …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Jan Armstrong raised a hand to ward off the bright morning sun and watched her husband’s spacecraft rear toward a rendezvous with the moon …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “At Disneyland (left) hundreds gave up ‘moon rides’ to watch the real thing. While in Manhattan people cheered and worried in front of huge TV screens. Las Vegas casino crowds paused over Baccarat (below) and passengers jammed a waiting room at JFK airport (right) to watching Armstrong’s walk …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “The moonwalk was broadcast live in London (left) and other world capitals, although Moscow viewers (right) had to wait several hours for an edited version. Pope Paul got a telescopic close-up of the moon, while South Koreans clamored around a 20-foot-square TV screen. GIs read of lunar adventure …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Andy Aldrin watched with grim determination as his father set foot on the moon, while at the Collins home Pat and friends followed the walk on two television sets. Joan Aldrin collapsed on the floor in happy relief when Eagle lifted safely off the moon …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “The fiery sideshow as Apollo comes home …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “The capsule was first righted by floatation bags. Then as astronauts in special insulation suits watched, frogmen scrubbed it down with disinfectant. (right). Apollo crew waved as they entered quarantine aboard [the recovery ship] the USS Hornet …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “In Houston the splashdown joy was personal and intense. NASA workers leaped from their consoles waving flags, and at home Jan Armstrong (below left) beamed and sighed in relief. Joan Aldrin applauded as Buzz Aldrin struggled into the raft and Pat Collins served champagne to a house full of happy friends …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin grinned jubilantly from inside their quarantine chamber on the carrier Hornet before their flight home to Houston …”
Life magazine Special Edition, August 11, 1969. “That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind …”
New York’s Central Park has been around, in various incarnations, since the mid-1800s. In that time it has been hailed as a masterpiece of landscape design; served as a punchline in jokes about muggings and violent crime; provided the setting for key scenes in books, plays and movies; and remains, for New Yorkers and for countless visitors to Gotham, one of the world’s urban wonders 840 acres of tree-lined paths, public plazas, open fields, gardens, ponds, lakes, bridges, arches, performance spaces, a castle on a hill, a quite charming zoo and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Here, LIFE.com celebrates Frederick Law Olmsted’s and Calvert Vaux’s best-loved and most-frequented creation with a series of photos from 1961.
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.
Dancers in Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Unicyclist in Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Warming up before a soccer match, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Central Park 1961
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
A painter in a secluded spot, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Central Park’s Bethesda Fountain, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Rowers on the Lake in Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Fishing in Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Sunbathers cooling their feet, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Scene near the Boat House, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Model sailboats in Conservatory Pond, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
A memorable boat launching.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Dogs in a fountain, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Chess players, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Water fountain, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
In a wonderland for climbers a bronze Alice got cluttered by children who’d scrambled over the Mad Hatter and other Lewis Carroll creatures.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Newly graduated students strolling past folks dancing ring-around-a-rosy.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Out for a morning ride.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Central Park 1961
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Elephants in Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Seals in Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Kodiak bears, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Couple on a bench, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coming down from a horse-drawn carriage, Central Park, 1961.
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Central Park 1961
Leonard McCombe The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
