In March 1963 LIFE photographer George Silk photographed Ali for his fight with Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden, one which was meant to a be a potential stepping stone to a title shot against Sonny Liston. Ali came into the fight against Jones, another top contender, with a 17-0 record and already carrying himself like a superstar. The most popular photo from this set shows Ali, young and lean, mouth aroar as he met with the media before the fight. This image of the young and bombastic Ali is one of the top sellers in the LIFE online print store.

It is but one of many evocative photos from the lead-up to the fight. Another shows Ali’s trainer, Angelo Dundee, placing a piece of tape over the boxer’s mouth, a playful nod to the fact that not everyone enjoyed the boasting of “the Louisville Lip.”

Before the fight Ali announced that he would finish off Jones in four rounds—one of Silk’s photos shows Ali, mouth still taped, holding up four fingers to remind everyone of his prediction. Ali did beat Jones, but the fight went a full ten rounds and was much closer than people expected. While the judges gave the decision to Ali narrowly but unanimously, many observers thought Jones had won the fight. Afterward UPI surveyed 25 ringside writers, and their vote was 13 for Jones to 10 for Ali, with two calling it a draw.

After the fight Jones said of Ali, “I’m not knocking his big mouth. He made me a lot of dough. He talks a lot outside but doesn’t show much in the ring. He better fight me again before he even thinks of Liston.” 

Ali did not fight Jones again, though. He moved on to his title shot against Liston, winning the heavyweight championship in February 1964 and becoming as famous around the globe as any athlete has ever been. Ali didn’t lose a professional fight until 1971, in a decision against Joe Frazier in the “Fight of the Century.”

At first glance these 1963 photos by George Silk feel like they capture the story of the inevitable rise of Ali. But if the judges had seen the fight the way the ringside writers did, it is possible that the narrative of one of the most fascinating characters of the 20th century would have taken a very different form.

Muhammad Alin, then known as Cassius Clay, before his fight with Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, held a locker room media session before his fight with Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Alin, then known as Cassius Clay, spoke to the media before his fight with Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, exuded confidence to reporters before his fight with Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay and criticized for talking too much, theatrically had his mouth taped by trainer Angelo Dundee before a fight with Doug Jones, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, despite wearing tape over his mouth as a mocking gesture toward people who said he talked too much, used a finger gesture to promise that he would defeat Doug Jones in four rounds at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali (then known as Cassius Clay) defeated Doug Jones in ten rounds in Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock.

Muhammad Ali (then known as Cassius Clay) defeated Doug Jones in ten rounds in Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali (then known as Cassius Clay) defeated Doug Jones in ten rounds in Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali (then known as Cassius Clay) defeated Doug Jones in ten rounds in Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, fought Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali (then known as Cassius Clay) defeated Doug Jones in ten rounds in Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, defeated Doug Jones in ten rounds at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Muhammad Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, had his hand raised in victory after defeating Doug Jones in 10 rounds in close heavyweight bout at Madison Square Garden, March 13, 1963.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Muhammad Ali: Loud and Lyrical, 1963 appeared first on LIFE.

In 1950, eight years before Alaska officially joined the union, LIFE took its readers to the what was then America’s northernmost territory—a chilly and remote part of Minnesota known as Northwest Angle. This patch of land seems like it should really be part of Canada—it does connect with the rest of The Gopher State by land and has physical borders with Manitoba and Ontario. Northwest Angle is only part of the U.S. because people got confused while the details of the U.S.-Canada border were being negotiated.

If you’ve never heard of the Northwest Angle, you’re not alone. LIFE began its 1950 story by explaining just what this place was, and what life was like there:

Jutting out like a tiny bell tower at the top of Minnesota is a strip of woodland-and-lake wilderness called the Northwest Angle. … Its inhabitants, cut off from the rest of the U.S. by the 1,500-square mile Lake of the Woods, are an isolated, frontier people. For a brief period during the summer they live in a paradise of thick green forests and deep blue lakes. They hunt, fish, eat wild berries and trap for lynx. But when the long winter sets in, they live in an inhospitable land which is more like Siberia than the U.S. Blizzards roar down out of the North. The temperature drops to 50 degrees below zero, cold enough to split the logs of a cabin. Even on warmer days it seldom gets to more than 20 below zero.

In 1950 this isolated piece of America was out there in more ways than one. “The Angle has no telephones, roads, telegraph, movies, churches or doctors,” LIFE wrote. “The log homes have neither running water nor plumbing. The main meat dish is venison.”

The frontier aspects of the Northwest Angle were a large part of its appeal to residents, most of whom were living there by choice. They had vacationed there during the summer and fallen in love with the place.

The photos by George Silk capture the unique way of life in Northwest Angle. Women made their own butter in hand-cranked churns, and gathered for quilting bees for amusement. Residents traveled in horse-drawn sleighs to collect firewood. Kids amused themselves by playing tag in the deep snow. One man described as a “hermit” spent his winters reading the Congressional Record.

The winters drove most residents indoors. The attitude of the locals, LIFE wrote, was “They don’t particularly like the winters, but they don’t dislike them either.”

The reward for enduring the winter, as they saw it, came when the snow thawed, the geese returned, and the Northwest Angle became an outdoor paradise. LIFE wrote, “Then the citizens of the Angle tell each other that there is no other place on earth where they could enjoy so good a life at so little cost.”

Men cross a frozen lake in a horse-drawn sleigh while on a firewood-gathering expedition. Because the Northwest Angle has no roads, gathering firewood can actually be easier when the lake is frozen..

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Twelve-year old David Colson of Northwest Angle, Minnesota, photographed after walking home two miles from school, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Two boys and a girl hid up to their necks in a snowdrift, nibbling at the snow.while playing a game of tag in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes of wintertime in remote Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Twevle-year-old David Colson rode a cow to get water from a hole drilled through ice in the lake in Northwest Angle, Minn., 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Mrs. Joe Risser of Northwest Angle, Minn., carried in wash that had frozen on the line, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Mrs. Edison Risser used a hand-operated butter-making machine like virtually every other family did in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Postmaster Jake Colson ran the smallest post office in the U.S in a six-by-four-foot corner of Northwest Angle’s general store; only twelve homes received mail up there.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Eli Olson, a reclusive trapper and 34-year resident of Northwest Angle, Minnesota, liked to read the Congressional Record during the winter, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A women carefully wove a rug during the extremely cold winter months in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Grandfather Oscar Risser whittled while his grandchildren watched during a long winter in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Kids in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, generally took baths once a week, on Saturdays, during the winter.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Quilting bees like this one were a popular winter pastime in Northwest Angle, MInnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A winter quilting bee in Northwest Angle, Minnesota including a break for a two-hour lunch that featured chicken, baked beans, canned vegetables and pie, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Newlyweds Sid and Skippy Hanson, ages 23 and 19, struggled to keep their cabin warm enough over the winter in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Two Canadians braved the wind and snow to come into Northwest Angle, Minnesota, to buy provisions, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A dog made its way through three-and-a-half feet of snow In Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A lone lighthouse sat amid a stark frozen landscape during winter in Northwest Angle, Minnesota, 1950.

George Silk/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Wild and Frozen: Minnesota at Its Coldest and Most Remote appeared first on LIFE.

Harold Lumbert was a civilian living thousands of miles away when Japanese pilots bombed Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. He was 21 years old and working on an assembly line in Aurora, Illinois. He had been married for eight months and his wife Burnette was pregnant with their first child, a son named David.

But Pearl Harbor drew the United States into World War II, and eventually Lumbert into the Marines, by way of the draft. He was shipped overseas in November 1944. And he became one of 670,846 Americans who were wounded during the war.

During fighting at Iwo Jima, he was hit by a Japanese shell that tore away the flesh at the front of his skull, broke his lower jaw in seven places and also ripped the nerves at the base of his neck. He was sure he was about to die, and he wondered to himself, “How is Burnette going to bring up the kid?”

Lumbert didn’t die, but he would stay in hospitals into 1947, enduring 33 major operations and countless smaller procedures, in an effort to put his face back together.

As one operation followed another, with painful missteps along the way, Lumbert became increasingly worried about what he looked like—and he had no idea, not only because he was bandaged but also because, to his great frustration, the hospital staff kept him away from mirrors. Finally, in the office of the dentist who had been working on his jaw, with his bandages off, Lumbert slid down in the chair to get a look at himself in the reflection of the metal instrument tray. The dentist, seeing what he was doing, relented and gave Lumbert a proper mirror:

The doctor watched and said nothing while Lumbert stared into the mirror at an apparition that was mostly a hole from the sockets of its burning eyes down. The remaining flesh hung shapeless because there was no longer an upper jaw nor much of the front of the skull to support it. A framework of aluminum bars was fastened to the skull with screws and looped down to give some kind of alignment to the fragments of the lower jaw. The sight, the doctor knew, could destroy a man; he prayed that it would not destroy this one.

Lumbert’s face was rebuilt, and so too, slowly, was his life. He eventually returned to Aurora and his job on the assembly line. Lumbert had feared his wife would leave him, given his disfigurement, but Burnette stayed by his side, and their family grew. They would have three more children, though in a tragic accident their first-born, David, died in 1953, at age 10, after falling from a tree and fracturing his skull.

LIFE devoted 18 pages to Lumbert’s story. The photographs, taken by George Silk, show Lumbert with his wife and three daughters, and with friends, partaking in the satisfactions of everyday life. What SIlk’s photographs do not show, however, is Lumbert’s face. Silk photographed Lumbert from behind or over the shoulder, or with Lumbert’s face in the shadows.

The choice not to show Lumbert’s face is a powerful one because of what Silk does capture in abundance: the friends and family who are enjoying Lumbert’s company. Especially when Lumbert is with his daughters, their eyes are looking at him with love.

In the story Lumbert talked about how he enjoyed the company of his daughter’s friends, because kids had an easier time with his appearance. “If you grab the chance, you can make a friend out of a youngster before she knows what’s happening,” Lumbert explained. “Once that’s done, she thinks of you as a friend and it won’t even occur to her that you look different from anybody else.”

It’s the real message of Silk’s photos: how Lumbert looks matters less than how the people in his life see him. That message is brought home by the story’s closing lines:

By now Lumbert fully understands the special vision which allows children to see beyond the face of a man. As he watches his daughters happily shuffle through the family album and talk about the photographs of their father as he was long ago, he knows that they know that the two faces belong to the same man.

Harold Lumbert and wife Burnette with their son David, before Lumbert deployed to the Pacific in World War II.

Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Marine Private Harold Lumbert on his last leave in 1944 before he deployed to the Pacific in World War II.

Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

David Lumbert, son of World War II veteran Harold Lumbert, at age 5. David died in 1953 at age 10, after falling from a tree and fracturing his skull.

Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert operated a fork lift at work in Aurora, Illinois, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert with daughter Joann, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert consoled his daughter Sue, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Joann Lumbert gets help with homework from her father, World War II veteran Harold Lumbert, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert held the hand of his daughter Sue just before her bedtime, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert and his daughter Sue, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert with daughter Sue, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert played with his daughter Sue, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert drove with his daughter Sue, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert said grace with his wife Burnette and his three daughters (left to right): Patricia Ann (14), wife Bernadette, Virginia Sue (5), and, mostly hidden by her father, Joann May (11).

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert with his three daughters, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert talked with a neighbor, George Glass, with whom he felt at ease, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert and his family hosted a dance party in their home, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Harold Lumbert with his daughter Joann Lumbert (right) as she and a friend ride a go-kart, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

World War II veteran Harold Lumbert walked with wife Bernadette and daughters Sue and Patricia, 1961.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Face of a Fighter: A Special Pearl Harbor Story appeared first on LIFE.

The photos by George Silk captured the whole boisterous scene, which included not just chorus girls but also singers and a comic named Frank Libuse, who pretended to be a waiter while delivering slapstick merriment to upscale patrons in the white tablecloth setting. The Latin Quarter was located in Times Square—just a couple blocks from the Time & Life Building, which may help explain how the club caught the attention of LIFE’s editors. But the club was undoubtedly a big deal, and in its heyday welcomed such legendary entertainers as Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and Milton Berle.

If the shows at the Latin Quarter sound like what you might expect to see in Las Vegas rather than in New York City, there may be a reason for that. LIFE’s story on the club ran in the days before Las Vegas had entered its major boom period in the 1950s. (And if you look at this LIFE story on Las Vegas from 1955, you can see that what sprouted in the desert bore strong resemblance to what the Latin Quarter was offering). While the LIFE piece on the Latin Quarter was intended to report on a trend of the moment, it also captured an element of New York culture that, like the Brooklyn Dodgers for example, was about to move west.

The Latin Quarter closed in 1969, and the space went through various incarnations as a theater and nightclub before it was torn down in 1989. On that location you can now find a hotel, perfectly situated for visitors who want to seek entertainment in the transformed and family-friendly Times Square.

Comic Frank Libuse, pretending to be a waiter, shot water at patrons seated at the Latin Quarter nightclub, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Comic and fake waiter Frank Libuse would “accidentally” brush patrons with a potted palm, Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Frank Libuse, a comic who pretended to be a waiter, Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Ernestine Mercer, who sang Cole Porter at the Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949. LIFE’s description of her performance said “Added attraction is Miss Mercer’s neckline, which keeps receding as a partner (left) throws money at her.”

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Chorus girl-singer Linda Lombard rested her legs after a tough night on stage at the Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Singer Linda Lombard, originally from Ohio, backstage at the Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Singer Linda Lombard backstage at the Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Singer Linda Lombard, backstage at the Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Backstage at the Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Latin Quarter, New York City, 1949.

George Silk/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Wild Manhattan Nights: A Peek Inside The Latin Quarter, 1949 appeared first on LIFE.

The magazine explained to unfamiliar readers how the sport worked there: “The men who ride the big ones in Hawaii actually ski down the shoulder of a wave away from the curl… They call the first breathtaking schuss ‘taking the drop.’ Their boards accelerate up to 35 mph so rapidly that they kick up waves like speedboats. And a merciless mauling awaits the unfortunate who doesn’t complete his ride. He is driven downward by the appalling maelstrom, tossed around, sucked back down and frequently, after fighting up for a desperate gulp of air, hammered down again by the next wave.”

And yet a brave group of surfers sought out the big waves anyway, for what LIFE called the “peril and ecstasy” of the sport’s toughest waves. Enabled by new innovations in balsa wood surfboards that had opened new vistas to surfers in the 1940s, the surfers  returned again and again, despite the risks.

Looking at these photos by George Silk, it’s not hard to see what drew the surfers back to the water. Some experienced, what surfer Fred Van Dyke described to Silk as, “the greatest feeling the world.”

Nick Beck of Honolulu caught a wave on his light board.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A pair of riders, cutting frothy furrows in the wall of a wild 18-footer, seemed headed on a collision course at Sunset Beach.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Surfer Rick Grigg caught a ride at Banzai Beach, Oahu, Hawaii, 1963.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A teenage girl rode the surf, 1963.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Hawaii, 1963.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Preston Leavey, paddling frantically to get on a wave and begin his ride. A camera, was bolted to the front of the board and recorded the glitter of refracted light from the spray.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Before riding in on great waves surfers had to fight their way out past foaming barriers.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

At Sunset Beach, a surfer rode a thundering 15-footer.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Hawaii surfers, 1963.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Hawaii surfers, 1963.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Joe Kaohi maneuvered desperately to cling to his board as he tried to ride into the tunnel of a wave at Banzai Beach.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Hawaii surfer, 1963.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post The ‘Peril and Ecstasy’ of Surfing,1963 appeared first on LIFE.

Somehow, she looks as if she knows what’s coming, even if others didn’t. As LIFE magazine reviewed her performance in the May 18, 1962, issue:

“Barbra has a lovely face that goes well with Cry Me a River and other sad ballads that she sings in nightclubs. But for her stage role she makes herself look like a sour persimmon in order to play an overworked office girl who secretly wants to be called pet names instead of being yelled at all day long, ‘Miss Marmelstein!'” It was at least a kinder review than the one she received in the New York Times, which described Streisand as a “natural comedienne” but also “a girl with an oafish expression, a loud irascible voice and an arpeggiated laugh.”

It was Streisand’s role a few years later as Fanny Brice in Funny Girl that would make a more lasting impression on audiences and critics. As TIME reported in its April 10, 1964, cover story on her breakout, “as she sings number after number and grows in the mind, she touches the heart with her awkwardness, her lunging humor, and a bravery that is all the more winning because she seems so vulnerable. People start to nudge one another and say, ‘This girl is beautiful.'”

She had come a long way from her days as an introverted Brooklyn teen and the years before she removed an “a” from her first name, as a feature in TIME magazine explained:

Her recollections of a Brooklyn girlhood are somber. “It was pretty depressing, and I’ve blocked most of it out of my mind,” she says. She never knew her father. He was a school teacher who died of a cerebral hemorrhage when his daughter Barbara Joan was a year old (1943). Her mother spent the next three years lying in bed, crying, and living on her brother’s Army allotment checks until the checks stopped and she took an office job. Barbara spent her days in the hallways of the six-story brick apartment building they lived in, accepting handout snacks from neighbors.

As a slightly older kid, she used to go up on the rooftop, smoke, and think about being the greatest star. Down in the apartment, her mother warned her never to hold hands with a boy. “I never took part in any school activities or anything,” Barbra remembers. “I was never asked out to any of the proms, and I never had a date for New Year’s Eve. I was pretty much of a loner. I was very independent. I never needed anybody, really.”

…When she was 14, she made her first trip out of Brooklyn a subway ride to Manhattan to see The Diary of Anne Frank. “I remember thinking that I could go up on the stage and play any role without any trouble at all,” she says. After school at home, she used to smoke in the bathroom and do cigarette commercials into the mirror, but she never bothered to go out for school plays. “Why go out for an amateurish high school production when you can do the real thing?”

By the time the TIME cover story came out, Streisand’s three albums already made her the world’s best-selling female recording star on LP. And so much more was yet to come.

Nineteen-year-old Barbra Streisand played Miss Marmelstein in the 1962 Broadway play “I Can Get It For You Wholesale.”

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Elliot Gould, who played the show’s unscrupulous hero, sang to his mother, played by Lilian Roth; Gould and Streisand, who met during the show, were married from 1963 to ’71.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Lillian Roth and Elliott Gould in a scene from “I Can Get It for You Wholesale.”

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Sheree North and Harold Lang in a scene from “I Can Get It for You Wholesale.”

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Barbra Streisand, 1962.

George Silk The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Barbra Streisand at 19: Her Broadway Debut appeared first on LIFE.