In 1977, Michael and La Toya Jackson shared a Manhattan apartment while Michael was in New York City filming the movie musical The Wiz, in which he played the Scarecrow. These rare candid photos, captured by photographer Araldo di Crollalanza, offer a glimpse into their daily lives during this pivotal year, showing them relaxing in their living area, sharing meals at a glass dining table, and spending time in their kitchen.
Michael moved to NYC in July 1977 to rehearse and film his first movie, alongside Diana Ross. This project led to his first collaboration with producer Quincy Jones, who arranged the film’s score. The siblings became regulars at the legendary nightclub Studio 54. Michael famously celebrated his 19th birthday there in August 1977 with La Toya and their sister Janet. Beyond clubbing, they attended high-profile events together, such as a party hosted by Woody Allen in August and a press conference for The Wiz in September.
Author Truman Capote once described Michael and La Toya as “oases of innocence” amidst the hedonistic culture of New York’s nightlife during that era.
The mid-19th century was a transformative era for America, a time when the horizon felt endless and the wilderness was a daily reality for many. These rare vintage photographs provide a hauntingly beautiful window into that vanished world, capturing the rugged authenticity of life under the open sky.
During this period, outdoor life was defined by both survival and a deep-seated sense of wonder. Whether it was the somber stillness of a Civil War camp or the adventurous spirit of explorers charting unknown territories, each frame tells a story of resilience.
These photos do more than just record faces and landscapes, they preserve the very atmosphere of the 1850s and 1860s, a time before the roar of modern industry, when the great outdoors was a vast, silent stage for the American soul.
A photographer aims his lens at a group of ladies and gentlemen standing in front of a pavilion inside Congress Park at Saratoga Springs, New York
"Four Mile Run" Va. Feby 1864
A bearded man, sitting in his canvas-covered wagon and holding the reins of his horse, pauses along a narrow lane wet from recent rain
A child dressed in ruffled shirt, cape and fur hat sits on a horse in the front yard of a home adorned with four stately columns, Latrobe, Pennsylvania
A crowd of folks gather around the Glen Mountain House in Watkins Glen, New York
María Corda (born Mária Antónia Farkas; May 4, 1898 – February 15, 1976) was a Hungarian actress and a star of the silent film era in Germany and Austria.
In the late 1920s, Corda was transitioning from being a “queen” of European silent cinema to a high-profile, though ultimately short-lived, Hollywood star. Her career during this period was defined by epic spectacles and a significant move to the United States alongside her husband, director Alexander Korda.
In 1926, she and her husband, director Alexander Korda, moved from Berlin to Beverly Hills after she signed a contract with First National. The Private Life of Helen of Troy (1927) was her most notable Hollywood production, but it failed to achieve significant success. Like many silent stars, her career ended abruptly in 1928 with the arrival of sound films. Her limited English and heavy accent made it difficult for her to transition to “talkies.”
By the end of the decade, her marriage to Alexander Korda, which had been “tempestuous for many years,” officially ended in divorce when their contracts were up in California.
Corda was often marketed as the “Hungarian Garbo” due to her striking blonde looks and regal screen presence. In the late 1920s, she was a fixture of fashion and film magazines like Photoplay, celebrated for her “art deco” glamour and her roles in sweeping historical epics.
In the mid-1960s, Berlin’s street scenes offered a striking visual narrative of a city divided yet pulsating with a unique, contrasting energy.
While the Berlin Wall stood as a stark, grim reminder of geopolitical tensions, the daily life on either side revealed a fascinating mix of grit and glamour. In West Berlin, the Kurfürstendamm buzzed with the neon lights of modern cinemas, sleek Mercedes-Benz sedans, and fashionable pedestrians embracing the height of the “Economic Miracle.” Conversely, the streets of East Berlin showcased a more somber, socialist grandeur, characterized by wide boulevards like Karl-Marx-Allee and the distinctive hum of Trabants.
These vintage photos capture a pivotal moment in history, a city of ruins transforming into a stage for the Cold War, where every corner told a story of resilience, political theater, and the undeniable spirit of the Berliners.
East Berlin. Humboldt University of Berlin, 1966
East Berlin. On the left is the German Historical Museum on Unter den Linden. On the right, the historic building is the Kronprinzenpalais, with Schinkelplatz behind it, 1966
East Berlin. On the left is the State Opera on Unter den Linden, with St. Hedwig’s Cathedral behind it, 1966
East Berlin. On the right is the State Opera on Unter den Linden, 1966
East Berlin. On the Spree, in front of the Old National Gallery, 1966
Solène Lory is a French Michael Jackson fan who, at age 18, was brought on stage during his HIStory World Tour concert in Munich, Germany, on July 6, 1997, for the performance of “You Are Not Alone.”
This moment became one of the most memorable and emotional fan interactions from the tour, captured in official recordings and widely circulated online. She is the girl seen hugging Michael tightly, kneeling before him, and showing raw emotion as he embraces her.
Solène became a fan in 1992 after seeing Michael live on the Dangerous Tour in Toulouse, France. For the HIStory Tour, she traveled extensively to multiple shows (including Spain, Paris, Munich, London, and others) and deliberately positioned herself in the front row by queuing early and running to prime spots.
She actively tried to get noticed by the production team, particularly the cameraman and Michael’s assistant Anthony, starting from earlier concerts. In Paris, her best friend was selected instead, which devastated her, but the cameraman encouraged her to try again at future shows. Her persistence paid off in Munich.
During the second Munich concert, as “You Are Not Alone” began, Anthony pulled her from the crowd. She ran onto the stage, jumped into Michael’s arms, hugged him tightly, cried, tried to kiss him, and told him (in French) that she loved him. She knelt and clasped his legs in awe, which surprised him. She carried a teddy bear talisman (a keepsake from a previous Michael-related event) but forgot to give it to him in the moment.
Security (including bodyguard Wayne) eventually escorted her off stage. She was so overcome that she could barely walk afterward and later noticed Michael’s scent on her shirt and teddy bear. The interaction was genuine and unscripted in its execution, though the tour routinely selected a girl for this segment each night.
Interestingly, because the Munich concert was filmed for a professional TV special, the editors used footage from two different nights. While Solène is the primary girl remembered, some shots in the final “Munich” film actually feature a different fan from the second night, though Solène remains the “face” of that specific tour stop.
In a 1998 interview with the fan magazine Black & White, she described the experience as a “magical dance” and expressed her deep love for the artist. She later wrote a message to Michael: “Michael, when I was in your arms on July 6th 1997 in Munich, I had the most beautiful time of my life. Thank you for this magical dance. I love you with all my heart. You are not alone.”
Solène largely stayed out of the spotlight after this. Fans who knew her story through the magazine respected her privacy, noting she grew into a normal adult life with a job and family. She has been described as a devoted, persistent fan rather than someone seeking fame. Clips of the moment continue to circulate and inspire fans decades later.
On the set of the 1956 epic War and Peace, Audrey Hepburn embodied the role of Natasha Rostova with a delicate perfection that remains legendary in cinematic history.
These portraits capture Hepburn at the height of her ethereal beauty, draped in the high-waisted Empire silhouettes and intricate ringlets of the Napoleonic era. Away from the grand ballrooms and dramatic battlefields, these behind-the-scenes images reveal a mesmerizing blend of her signature poise and the youthful, spirited energy of her character.
Captured against the backdrop of King Vidor’s ambitious production, Audrey doesn’t just play a heroine of Russian literature, she becomes a luminous symbol of grace and resilience, proving why she was the only choice to bring Tolstoy’s most beloved female lead to life.
Born Robert Edwin Cornish on December 21, 1903, in California (often associated with San Francisco or Berkeley), Cornish showed exceptional intelligence from a young age. He graduated from high school at 15, earned honors from the University of California, Berkeley at 18, and received his doctorate (Ph.D. or medical-related degree) by age 22. He was licensed to practice medicine around age 21.
Early in his career, Cornish worked as a researcher at Berkeley, exploring topics like reading glasses, heavy water isolation, and other scientific projects. However, by around 1932, he became obsessed with the idea of resuscitating the dead. He believed that clinical death was not necessarily irreversible if circulation and oxygenation could be restored quickly enough before irreversible brain damage occurred. His work was partly inspired by contemporary experiments in Russia and elsewhere on resuscitation, but his approach was highly unorthodox.
The See-Saw (Teeterboard) Method
The cornerstone of Cornish’s technique was a large teeterboard or see-saw-like tilting table (sometimes called a teeter-totter). The idea was to use gravity and rhythmic rocking to artificially circulate blood in a body whose heart had stopped. The subject (human cadaver or animal) was strapped supine (on their back) to the pivoting board.
The board was rocked vigorously back and forth, alternating the head-up/feet-down and head-down/feet-up positions. This created a pendulum-like effect to move blood toward the brain and vital organs. At the same time, he injected a mixture into a vein (often in the thigh), typically including: epinephrine (adrenaline) to stimulate the heart; anticoagulants like heparin (or liver extract) to prevent blood clotting; oxygenated saline solution mixed with some blood or other stimulants.
Additional steps often included artificial respiration (e.g., breathing into the mouth) and manual rubbing of the body.
Cornish theorized that if intervention happened within minutes of clinical death (before full rigor or extensive brain damage), revival might be possible.
