In early 1946, photographer Ed Clark journeyed to Paris (“the grand courtesan of all cities,” LIFE called the ancient town) to record the look and the feel of the French capital less than a year after the end of World War II. The pictures he made there chronicle not the cheerful, bawdy Paris of the popular imagination, but a place that, as LIFE told its readers, was a “grim and depressing disappointment” for any visitors expecting the Paris of Maxim’s, the Ritz, the Folies Bergère, the Moulin Rouge and the city’s other legendary, libidinous diversions.
The Parisians themselves, meanwhile, were “cold, hungry, confused and tired above all, tired too busy keeping themselves alive to bother much about entertaining. . . . [The typical American GI in Paris at the time] felt cheated. Where was the Paris he had heard about?”
The Paris [of Clark’s photos] is the Paris of the Parisians and of anyone else who will take her. She is unadorned, somber and beautiful. Most of the pictures were taken in mist or rain, when the sharp, clean lines of the city’s spires and the bridges pierce through a curtain of gray. This is the Paris that neither Germans nor GIs could change. Even in the age of the atom bomb, she is as indestructible as the river.
For his part, like countless travelers before him through the centuries, Ed Clark fell under the spell cast by the great, gorgeous city. In fact, the Tennessee native once claimed that, at the time he got the assignment, “I didn’t know where France was, let alone Paris.”
But when he came upon a young painter in Montmartre (slide #6 in this gallery, and Clark’s personal favorite photo from his entire career), he found it “so beautiful that I just started shooting.”
View along Quai du Louvre (today Quai François Mitterrand) down the Seine toward Ponte Des Arts with the Eiffel Tower in the distance, 1946.
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Arc de Triomphe
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Churning up the Seine, past Notre Dame, on a gray winter day.
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Exiting the Metro
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
The Arc de Triomphe
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Painting Sacre-Coeur from the ancient Rue Norvins in Montmartre, Paris.
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Moulin de la Galette, Paris
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
The famous stalls along the Seine
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
View across the Pont Alexandre III bridge toward the Grand Palace
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
A small sister of the Statue of Liberty beside the Seine, 1946.
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Street scene
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Near the Pont Neuf steps
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Scene on the Seine
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Selling flowers on the banks of the Seine
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Pont Alexandre III bridge
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
The Conciergerie, on the Ile de la Cité
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Rowboats on the banks of the Seine
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
View of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris, commonly known as Sacré-Coeur
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Montmartre cemetery, winter 1946.
Ed Clark Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Passerelle Debilly bridge on a foggy winter day with the Eiffel Tower in the background
There are few more lasting emblems of immigration to the U.S. than Ellis Island—the portal through which some 12 million immigrants entered America between 1892 and 1954. By some estimates, a third of the population of the United States more than 100 million people can trace their ancestry to immigrants who first arrived at Ellis Island
Near the end of that long run, in the fall of 1950, LIFE photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt went out to the island in Upper New York Bay to make some pictures. The rough machinery of politics had brought confusion and delay to the processing of thousands of men, women and children looking to step on to American soil. But beyond chronicling the impact that political rivalries in Washington were having on real lives, Eisenstaedt’s pictures also encompass a more permanent truth about the immigrant’s journey, and these images mirror photographs made at Ellis Island decades before.
Many of the pictures in this gallery were never published in LIFE, but some appeared in the Nov. 13, 1950. The story explained the photos, and the situation on the island, this way:
The flat, 30-acre island in New York Bay is not what European Communists gleefully call it—”that well-known concentration camp.” But Ellis Island is today a gray and gloomy place suddenly full of bewildered people who have become victims of American politics.
The trouble began with an unfortunate law, the McCarran Communist control bill. The bill, designed to exclude subversives, was so loosely drawn that it excluded harmless and desirable aliens as well, people whose only crime may have been membership in the Hitler Youth at the age of 9 or enrollment in a Fascist labor union when joining was a prerequisite to eating. Last September, President Truman vetoed the bill. Congress re-passed it over his veto. [In the ensuing power struggle, would-be] immigrants were caught up in this political wrangle, and “delayed” beyond reason on the little island.
LIFE then went on the describe the “flood-tide activity” at Ellis that the great photographer Lewis Hine documented in the early 1900s activity that slowed to a trickle (1,300 a month vs. 3,000 a day in 1906) by the late 1940s and noted that for the first time in decades, the island was “again full of deeply human scenes.”
The new aliens, photographed here by LIFE’s Alfred Eisenstaedt, look the same, have old-country clothes and the same wide-eyed, insistent children. The old buildings, with their huge, tiled rooms, and wire-mesh partitions, are still the same. But this time, because the inspectors must examine not only the bodies and finances of the aliens but their past political connections as well, the atmosphere is gloomier and there are long, inexplicable delays filled with anxiety. . . . [Some] are held for several days. Most of them wind up at a high pitch of exasperation, crying, “Why don’t you ask me now what I think of your beautiful country? Why don’t you ask me now?” Only a few, like Professor Arrigo Poppi, who came from the University of Bologna to study medicine at Harvard, retain their humor. “I came here to study the heart disease,” he said, “and instead I get the heart disease.”
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.
Antonio Magnani coped with his children and fat briefcase holding his entry papers, Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Immigrants at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Twenty-four-year-old Schulim Pewzner, a rabbinical student from Warsaw, Poland, at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaed; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
The Saturnia docked at at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaed; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaed; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Rachel and Schulim Pewzner, from Warsaw, Poland, interviewed at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Maria Nadalin of Italy, seated at left of the table, was worked on by an inspector-stenographer-interpreter team.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Exhausted parents in recreation hall tried to keep their child amused and quiet. Most of them put up with endless piggyback riding, hair-pulling—anything—to get relief from the bewildered crying.”
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
In the women’s dormitory, separated from husbands, wives sat silently on their beds. At right is Maria Palmerini of Italy, who came for a six-month visit. She received the same treatment as those who were staying.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Rachel Pewzner, 20, and her 24-year-old husband, Schulim, at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
A tired child is ready to go to sleep with his head on the dining-hall table. American food was sometimes too strange for aliens. There was a kosher kitchen for orthodox Jews.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Boarding a ferry at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
Rachel Pewzner, 20, and her 24-year-old husband, Schulim, at Ellis Island, 1950.
Alfred Eisenstaedt; Life Pictures/Shutterstock
On a ferry in New York Harbor, looking at lower Manhattan, 1950.
Not many places in America have, for so long, been so dedicated to the pursuit of fun as the mile-long stretch along the southern edge of Brooklyn known as Coney Island. Luna Park, Astroland, the world-famous Cyclone roller coaster — for well over a century, these names helped define what amusement parks were, while their attractions and thrills still inform what summertime entertainment looks, feels and sounds like.
As the Cyclone advances further into its 10th decade of life — the wooden coaster opened for business on June 26, 1927 — LIFE.com presents a series of pictures that celebrate the unique, messy, vibrant energy of Coney Island. Even today, after so many years of, well, ups and downs, there’s no place else quite like it.
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.
Coney Island, New York, 1944.
Marie Hansen The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
The Coney Island Cyclone, 1944.
Marie Hansen The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1949.
Andreas Feininger The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1949.
Andreas Feininger The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
The Gryro Globe ride, a metal monster which simultaneously spun and tilted its victims, Coney Island, 1949.
Andreas Feininger The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1949.
Andreas Feininger The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
The Parachute Jump along the boardwalk at Coney Island, 1951.
Margaret Bourke-White The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1942.
William Vandivert The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1943.
Ralph Morse The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island 1949
Andreas Feininger The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1942.
William Vandivert The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1949.
Andreas Feininger The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Coney Island, 1942.
William Vandivert The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
The Statue of Liberty is one of the most recognizable pieces of public art, not only in America but around the world. At the time of its dedication on October 28, 1886, this gift from France was, at 305 feet and one inch, the tallest structure in New York City. While its status has been dwarfed in that one measure, its status as an icon has only deepened over time.
Here are photos of Lady Liberty as captured by LIFE photographers through the years.
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.
“It is a teeth-jarring sport for skaters who race 30 miles every night,” LIFE wrote of roller derby back in December 1948. The sport, LIFE continued, features “enough spills and body contact to gratify even an ice hockey fan.”
LIFE.com here features a number of photographs of women’s roller derby teams in Chicago, made by longtime LIFE photographer George Skadding. Known primarily as a chronicler of politics and presidents—before and after World War II, he was an officer of the White House News Photographers Association—Skadding clearly immersed himself in this particular assignment.
Maybe the open aggression of the sport was a tonic after years of covering Washington, where the assaults tended to be more buttoned-down. Whatever the reason, Skadding evidently enjoyed himself while chronicling these skaters. And according to LIFE, so did the fans at the rink.
“The rules of this spectacle appear to have been cribbed from six-day bike racing . . . and professional wrestling. . . . Audiences have already learned to hiss the sport’s more clumsy villains, but lady skaters are not ostracized when they kick one another in the face.”
Is it any wonder that, while always on the fringes of sporting culture, roller derby still endures?
Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.
A skillful shoulder block thrown by ‘Fuzzy’ Buchek (left) foiled an attempt by Vivian Johnson (center) to slip between two skaters and start a jam. These were all legal moves.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
A fight broke out between ‘Toughie’ Brashun (No. 12), Gerry Murray and a hapless mediator from a men’s team (No. 13).
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby 1948
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Roller Derby, Chicago, 1948.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
An illegal hold by the skater at the left (No. 3) let her partner take the lead. It was observed that girls’ tactics were often dirtier than men’s.
George Skadding The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
On June 30, 1864, President Abraham Lincoln signed the Yosemite Grant Act, establishing Yosemite Valley and Mariposa Grove as America’s “first protected wild land for all time,” while also creating the very first California state park. The Yosemite National Park that we know and love today was not established until October 1890—but it’s still remarkable to consider that, in the midst of a civil war that threatened to destroy the nation, Congress and Lincoln had the foresight, and the guts, to protect America’s natural treasures in perpetuity.
Here, LIFE.com presents a series of photos made in the park in 1962 by LIFE’s Ralph Crane. Looking at these pictures, one would be hard-pressed to disagree with the famous assertion that, collectively, the national parks comprise “America’s best idea.”
A hiker at Vernal Falls in Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Yosemite Valley, a crown jewel of scenic treasure, has been preserved largely because of a pioneer’s love. Naturalist John Muir fought for a Yosemite National Park so things like the great granite shoulder of El Capitan (left) and Bridalveil Falls could be held in public trust for future visitors.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Campers made an early morning breakfast at their site in Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Children walked on a spit of rocks at Mirror Lake in Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Tourists floated on a raft in the Merced River, Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
A horseback ride in Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Yosemite Falls at Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Hikers passed beneath a rainbow formed by mist from Vernal Falls, Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Vernal Falls in Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
“Firefall” — burning hot embers spilled from the top of Glacier Point at Yosemite National Park — was a nightly tourist attraction for years, until the Park Service ordered the owners of the Glacier Point Hotel to put a stop to the dramatic, but highly unnatural, proceedings.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock
Father and son (unwisely) fed a deer, Yosemite National Park, 1962.
Ralph Crane The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock