It is still the largest saltwater lake in the Western Hemisphere and it attracts more than 200,000 visitors annually. But a couple years ago water loss had researchers warning that the Great Salt Lake could soon dry up entirely. A report from BYU scientists published in January 2023 painted a grim picture of the future and raised the possibility of the lake disappearing entirely by 2028. Recent wet winters in Utah have given the lake a reprieve, but increased water use in the region as well as climate change remain threats to its survival.

In 1948, when LIFE took its readers on a journey to the Great Salt Lake, water loss was a part of the story even back then. The headline announced “Great Salt Lake: It Is Only a Shriveled Vestige of a Prehistoric Inland Sea,” and some of the images by staff photographer Fritz Goro demonstrated that the shriveling was ongoing. Witness the train tracks which had been built into the water by a lakefront resort. The train tracks were needed because the lake’s water level had dropped so much since the resort’s construction that visitors needed to be transported to a place where the water was deep enough for them to swim.

Although some of Goro’s photos portrayed the Great Salt Lake as a playground, the text made clear that even in its heyday, no one would be mistake it for Miami Beach. Oddities abounded.

Near the lake one may park a car on seemingly hard ground, only to return later and find it hub-deep because the sun has softened the mud. The very water of the lake is bizarre; it is so buoyant swimming in it is an experience. It is also so heavy and hard a newcomer may stun himself by jumping into it from a moderate height and will come up with salt-scalded eyes and mouth if he does not keep them shut. This is one reason the lake has not attracted a larger summer colony than it has.

The last words of the LIFE magazine article, like that recent BYU study, discussed the lake’s eventual disappearance, though it made clear that the timeline was ambigious. “Geologists began predicting the ultimate death of the lake by evaporation decades ago,” LIFE wrote. “But although the level varies cyclically and it has lost 400 square miles in the last 79 years, it has refused to die, and today few geologists care to venture a guess as to when it will.”

Visitors to Great Salt Lake in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Visitors standing near a warning sign at Great Salt Lake, Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

High school student Shauna Wood floated in the Great Salt Lake, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Women floated at the Great Salt Lake, Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

At Great Salt Lake in 1948, the tracks carried visitors to the resort in the background out to deeper waters. The visibility of the resort’s pilings give a sense of how much the lake had evaporated since the building’s construction in 1893.

Fritz Goro/Life PIcture Collection/Shutterstock

At Great Salt Lake in 1948, the tracks carried visitors to the resort in the background out to deeper waters. The visibility of the resort’s pilings give a sense of how much the lake had evaporated since the building’s construction in 1893.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Great Salt Lake in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

People played in the shallow water of the Great Salt Lake in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Great Salt Lake in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Great Salt Lake in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Near the Great Salt Lake in 1948, a man examined wagon wheel tracks left by the doomed Donner party 102 years prior.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Signage attempted to discourage racing across the salt flats near the Great Salt Lake, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A woman shopped for souvenirs at Great Salt Lake in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A rock formation at Great Salt Lake, Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Signage at a gas station at Pocono, Utah, near Great Salt Lake, warned of scarce water, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Image of a grassy plain in Utah, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Salt encrustations surrounded the Great Salt Lake, 1948.

Fritz Goro/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

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The post The Vanishing Great Salt Lake in More Buoyant Times appeared first on LIFE.

Here’s how LIFE described the importance of Bethlehem:

In Bethlehem priests speak many languages, for this is a place sacred to Christians of all lands and groupings—Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant. Through the ages pilgrims have come here in reverence and love, for here was born hope.

The photo essay by Dmitri Kessel, who was born in Russia and handled many international assignments for LIFE, covered the celebrations of both Christmas and Easter. In addition to taking photos of the rituals of those holidays, he also captured images of young shepherds at work in the nearby hills. Those photos are particularly evocative because—setting aside the technological impossibility of it—the images look as if they could have been taken in the time of Jesus, imparting the feel of a history that is still very much alive. `

An aerial view of the Church of Nativity in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A Christmas celebration in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Church of the Nativity (center) in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

In the Grotto of the Nativity, the sacred site of Christ’s birth was marked by a silver star on the floor, with a hole in the middle for pilgrims to peer through, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

People looked through a hole in the Grotto of the Nativity during Christmas in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A Franciscan friar placed a figure in the manger during a celebration of Christmas in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A Christmas celebration in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A shepherd stood in his field in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Shepherds in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A shepherd stood in his field in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A camel near Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A camel near Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Easter in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Easter in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A scene from Good Friday in Bethlehem, 1955.

Dmitri Kessel/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post “For Here Was Born Hope”: Christmas and Easter in Bethlehem, 1955 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.

The stars of the shoot were all women in their 20s who had come to the mountains to live the ski life.

Of course, dreams are often tempered by reality. The story, headlined “A Very Nice Kind of Ski Bum,” neatly summed up both the allure and the pitfalls of a move to Aspen:

They consider a skier’s life not to be a parenthetical experience but a real alternative to urban existence, one free from frustration, noise and the frustration of having to choose between marriage and a less than satisfying job. The only problem with Aspen is finding a way to survive.

In 1971 Aspen was not quite the playground for the rich that it is today (that status really took root in the 1980s), but the transition was in process, and it was being felt by the town’s working class. “Housing is practically non-existent and prices are tourist-level high,” LIFE wrote. One of the women in the Dominis photo essay said that she needed to work so many hours as a hotel maid to support herself that she barely had time to ski. Still, overall, the story painted a romantic picture of the adventure they had embarked on: “The women figure, why wait until you’re 40 to have fun.”

One of Dominis’ photos shows four young women sharing a one-bedroom apartment. That apartment certainly wouldn’t make it into the kind of stories you can find today on Aspen’s luxury homes—but it is a certain kind a paradise. Sure, it’s a mess, and the quarters are cramped. But the women don’t seem to care. It can be that way when you are taking a stab at living your dream.

These four women shared a one-bedroon apartment in Aspen, Colo., 1971

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Sue Smedstad, who had come to Aspen six years previous, received a free ski pass as one of the perks of her job as statistician for the Aspen Skiing Corp., 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Sue Smedstad drover her friends in her jeep as they searched for good snow in Aspen, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Women tubed in Snowmass Mountain, Aspen. Colo., 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Lyn Carlson came to Aspen, Colo., from Lousville, Ky., and supported herself by working the doors at an apres-ski club, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Gail Ramsey moved from Wisconsin to Aspen to sing in a nightclub, but after her band broke up she ended up tending bar, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Lisa Brooks, 24, came to Aspen for the ski life, but she made so little in her job as a chambermaid that she couldn’t do much skiing, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Leslie Smith, 25, came to Aspen and started her own store, the Birdog Trading Co., when she found that employment opportunities were scarce, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Carolyn Zinke, came to Aspen from Wisconsin with a teaching degree and, after a few years in the resort town she was proficient enough to gain work as a ski instructor, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

From a 1971 story on the many young women who moved to Aspen, Colo., to live and work

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Phyllis Garrett, 21, lived in a one-room mountain cabin after following her sister to Aspen, Colo., 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Dawn Clark left a college study tour in Hong Kong to live the ski life in Aspen, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Sandy Sollitt, 22, came to Aspen, Colorado from Chicago to enjoy the ski life, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

From a LIFE story on young women enjoying the ski life in Aspen, Colorado, 1971.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

From a 1971 story on the many young women who moved to Aspen, Colo., to live and work.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

From a 1971 story on the many young women who moved to Aspen, Colo., to live and work.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A 1971 LIFE story documented the influx of young women who had moved to Aspen, Colorado to live, work and ski.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Oh, To Be Young and in Aspen appeared first on LIFE.

The magazine opened its story breathlessly:

The most thrilling ride in the U.S. is in a 12-foot rubber boat down 55 miles of the middle fork of the Salmon River in Lemhi County, Idaho. For years the river with its boiling rapids and so-called Impassible Gorge with its 3,000-foot walls was thought so dangerous that only two dozen of the most daring white-water boatmen in the U.S. had ever tackled it.

But in 1949 some river guides had mastered the Middle Fork to the point that they began leading expeditions, and LIFE photographer Loomis Dean rode with one group. The trek down river took nine days, with people often camping near winter snow that had yet to melt. Some nights the temperatures dipped to 25 degrees. During those nine days the trekkers also caught—and ate—an estimated 200 pounds of trout. (If you are wondering, you can also catch salmon in the Salmon River) .

After finishing their trip the adventures concluded that, having survived the Salmon River, “the only thing left was Niagara Falls in a barrel.”

Today the Salmon River remains an esteemed destination, and one that is not easy to gain access to. The Middle Fork is now federally protected and adventure-seekers must enter a lottery for the right to travel its class III and IV+ rapids.

A Salmon River adventure in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Men horseback riding along the Salmon River.

Guide Hank Hastings scanned the wild rapids ahead on the Salmon River, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Adventurers shot the rapids on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Adventurers shot the rapids on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Adventurers rode the rapids on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Helen and Peter Brooks explored an ice cone in Impassable Gorge during their nine-day trek down the Salmon River, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Helen and Peter Brooks explored an ice cone in Impassable Gorge during their nine-day trek down the Salmon River, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The adventurers set up camp during a nine-day trek down the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The trekkers caught and dined on trout during their expedition down the Salmon River, Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Helen Brooks held a string of trouts caught during a nine-day expedition down the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Helen Brooks washing dishes in the Salmon River, Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shuttertstock

One of the trekkers took a bath in frigid waters during a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shuttertstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Men horseback riding along the Salmon River.

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scenes from a nine-day adventure on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, 1949.

Loomis Dean/Life Picture Collection/Shuttertstock

The post “The Most Thrilling Ride in the U.S.” appeared first on LIFE.

The town’s name is Venzone, and among its claims to fame are a collection of mummified remains that date back as far as the 14th century, when a time of plague led to some bodies being kept in a church basement, where they mummified naturally. No one knows for certain why these bodies became mummified, though speculation centers on the presence of limestone and certain fungi in the basement.

But what is particularly interesting is not just that these mummies existed, but how the local townsfolk regarded them. Rather than being freaked out by these figures that would become horror movie staples, the townsfolk decided to celebrate the mummies as a connection to their own ancestry.

Here’s what the website Weird Italy had to say about the mummies of Venzone:

The residents thought that God had sent their forefathers to guard the village while still living (since they were unaware of the term “mummy” at the time). Then the locals wished the mummies luck and begged for assistance with any difficulties. As the village’s elders, the mummies were accorded excellent treatment. And this custom persisted up until 1950. The townspeople had to value the mummies as their forefathers.

The photos by LIFE’s Jack Birns capture the warm relations between the townsfolk and their mummified ancestors as they pose for photos together. Birns also photographed a museum where some of the mummies were on display. The ancestors are no longer paraded around town like they once were, but the museum remains open today, with five of the mummies available for viewing.

View of the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle and the village of Venzone in the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region of Italy, September 1950.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A man posed for a portrait with one of the mummified bodies displayed in the Cemetery Chapel of Saint Michael on the grounds of the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, September 1950.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Locals in Venzone, Italy, 1950, pose with the mummified bodies that had been found years before in the crypt of a church there.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A local woman held up one of the natural mummies found in the crypts under the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, September 1950. The mummified bodies date from 1348 to 1881.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A local woman held up one of the natural mummies found in the crypts under the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, September 1950. The mummified bodies date from 1348 to 1881.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A man in Venzone, Italy, 1950, poses with a mummified body, one of many found in the crypt of the local church.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A priest held up one of the natural mummies found in the crypts under the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, September 1950. The mummified bodies date from 1348 to 1881.

Venzonea Skeletons

The townspeople of Venzone, Italy, posed with their mummified ancestors, 1950.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Local boys carried the natural mummies found in the crypts under the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, back into the crypt museum, September 1950. The mummified bodies date from 1348 to 1881.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Monsignor Simeone Guglielmi stood above the opening to one of the burial vaults under the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, September 1950. When the crypts were being relocated, the citizens of Venzone discovered that several of the bodies interred there had been naturally mummified.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The museum inside of the rotunda of Saint Michael displayed the natural mummies found in the crypts beneath the Cathedral of Saint Andrew the Apostle in Venzone, Italy, September 1950. The mummified bodies date from 1348 to 1881.

Jack Birns/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The post Mysterious Italy: The Mummies of Venzone appeared first on LIFE.