Beautiful Color Photos Document Everyday Life of Sweden in the 1940s

Fredrik Daniel Bruno (1882–1971) was a town engineer in Hudiksvall in the province of Hälsingland, in the northern part of central Sweden. He was also a dedicated amateur photographer, and took colour photographs during travels around Sweden in the 1940s and early 1950s. The images are taken with either Kodachrome or Agfacolor diapositive film.

Most of the photos show Swedish towns - with buildings, harbours, squares, monuments and public parks. Göteborg (Gothenburg) on the west coast and Stockholm, the Swedish capital, are well represented. Other photos show the countryside. A lot of the photos might be from official travels Fredrik Bruno made in his service as a town engineer, and they reflect well his professional field of interest.

A photo collection from Swedish National Heritage Board taken by Fredrik Bruno that shows everyday life of Sweden in the 1940s.

Kungsgatan street in Stockholm City, at the intersection with Sveavägen street, 1940

Funfair in Hudiksvall, 1942

 Hötorget (The Haymarket ) in Stockholm City, 1942

Men at a bus in Eskilstuna, 1942

City hotel of Hässleholm (today Hotel Statt), 1943

See more»

24 Badass Samurais From 19th Century That Make You Want To Be Like Them

Samurai, member of the Japanese warrior caste. The term samurai was originally used to denote the aristocratic warriors (bushi), but it came to apply to all the members of the warrior class that rose to power in the 12th century and dominated the Japanese government until the Meiji Restoration in 1868.

The ideal samurai was supposed to be a stoic warrior who followed an unwritten code of conduct, later formalized as Bushidō, which held bravery, honour, and personal loyalty above life itself; ritual suicide by disembowelment (seppuku) was institutionalized as a respected alternative to dishonour or defeat.

Samurai were the military nobility and officer caste of medieval and early-modern Japan. These photos of cool samurais from the 19th century that make you admire.

Oda Nobuyoshi

Sakuzaemon Yamanouchi

Ōkuma Shigenobu

Takasugi Shinsaku

Matsudaira Yoshinaga

See more»

Hoovervilles in the '30s: Amazing Vintage Photos That Capture Everyday Life in the Shanty Towns During the Great Depression

Many of the shanty towns that sprung up all over the United States during the Depression were facetiously called Hoovervilles because so many people at the time blamed President Herbert Hoover for letting the nation slide into the Great Depression.

In October of 1929, the stock market experienced a devastating crash resulting in an unprecedented number of people in the U.S. without homes or jobs, a period of history now known as the Clutch Plague.

While homelessness was present prior to the crash, the group was relatively small and cities were able to provide adequate shelter through various municipal housing projects. However, as the Depression set in, demand grew and the overflow became far too overwhelming and unmanageable for government resources to keep up with.

Homeless people in large cities began to build their own houses out of found materials, and some even built more permanent structures from brick. Small shanty towns—later named Hoovervilles after President Hoover—began to spring up in vacant lots, public land and empty alleys. Three of these pop-up villages were located in New York City; the largest of them was on what is now Central Park’s Great Lawn.

See more»

What Passengers Actually Ate on the Titanic? Food Menus Reveal What Was Served on the Ship Before It Went Down

Since its infamous maiden voyage 105 years ago, the RMS Titanic has served as an endless source of fascination for casual filmgoers and hard-core history buffs alike. First, second, and third class menus from the Titanic allow a glimpse into what daily life was like on the infamous steamship before it’s catastrophic collision with an iceberg just before midnight on April 14, 1912. Unsurprisingly, the differences between eating as a first class passenger and a third class passenger were pretty extreme.

In first class, passengers were treated to as many as 13 courses for a single dinner. This menu from the ship shows what these passengers ate for luncheon on the day the Titanic hit the iceberg:

Clearly, first class passengers weren’t lacking in options. The second-class menu is considerably simpler than that for first class, with fewer choices, but it still offered delicacies like lamb, curried, chicken, and roast turkey.

Second class breakfast was also quite hearty and varied. “Grilled ox kidneys & bacon”? Yum!

In third class, dining options were much simpler, with fewer options:

Although these dishes may look a lot less exciting than the feasts served in first class, they were nevertheless substantial and filling, and were in general a lot better than the typical food served to third class passengers on similar ocean liners. Evans points out that, “[c]oming from countries like Ireland and Norway where fresh fruits and vegetables were scarce, many third-class passengers probably found their fare almost decadent.”

(via Bustle)

King of the Con: The Incredible Story of Victor Lustig, the Man Who Sold the Eiffel Tower Twice in the 1920s

Victor Lustig is always mentioned in the lists of the most outstanding cons of the world. He was arrested about 50 times, but each time he was released for lack of evidence, because he was a perfectionist in deceptive schemes, remembering everything and completely relying on the knowledge of human nature.

Victor Lustig was born in the family of the mayor of Hostinne, a small Czech town. The boy got excellent education, he was fluent in at least five languages, and the best citizens of the city gathered in his parents’ house. Father sent his son to study at Sorbonne, but the young man quitted his studies. For several years he traveled all over Europe, making dozens of small crimes under different names. Most often he got introduced as Austrian "Count" Victor Lustig.

A mugshot of "Count" Lustig (Courtesy of Jeff Maysh)

In 1925, France had recovered from World War I, and Paris was booming, an excellent environment for a con artist. Lustig's master con came to him one spring day when he was reading a newspaper. An article discussed the problems the city was having maintaining the Eiffel Tower. Even keeping it painted was an expensive chore, and the tower was becoming somewhat run down. Lustig saw the possibilities behind this article and developed a remarkable scheme.

Lustig had a forger produce fake government stationery for him and invited six scrap metal dealers to a confidential meeting at the Hotel de Crillon, one of the most prestigious of the old Paris hotels, to discuss a possible business deal. All six attended the meeting. There, Lustig introduced himself as the deputy director-general of the Ministry of Posts and Telegraphs. He explained that they had been selected on the basis of their good reputations as honest businessmen.

Victor Lustig unsurprisingly avoided being photographed. Most images (like this) come from later in his life – despite his swagger, these are policemen guarding him.

Lustig told the group that the upkeep on the Eiffel Tower was so outrageous that the city could not maintain it any longer, and wanted to sell it for scrap. Due to the certain public outcry, he went on, the matter was to be kept secret until all the details were thought out. Lustig said that he had been given the responsibility to select the dealer to carry out the task. The idea was not as implausible in 1925 as it would be today. The Eiffel Tower had been built for the 1889 Paris Exposition, and was not intended to be permanent. It was to have been taken down in 1909 and moved somewhere else. It did not fit with the city's other great monuments like the Gothic cathedrals or the Arc de Triomphe, and at the time, it really was in poor condition.

Lustig took the men to the tower in a rented limousine for an inspection tour. It gave Lustig the opportunity to gauge which of them was the most enthusiastic and gullible. Lustig asked for bids to be submitted the next day, and reminded them that the matter was a state secret. In reality, Lustig already knew he would accept the bid from one dealer, Andre Poisson. Poisson was insecure, feeling he was not in the inner circles of the Parisian business community, and thought that obtaining the Eiffel Tower deal would put him in the big league.

However, Poisson's wife was suspicious, wondering who this official was, why everything was so secret, and why everything was being done so quickly. To deal with her suspicion, Lustig arranged another meeting, and then "confessed". As a government minister, Lustig said, he did not make enough money to pursue the lifestyle he enjoyed, and needed to find ways to supplement his income. This meant that his dealings needed a certain discretion. Poisson understood immediately. He was dealing with another corrupt government official who wanted a bribe. That put Poisson's mind at rest immediately, since he was familiar with the type and had no problems dealing with such people.

So Lustig not only received the funds for the Eiffel Tower; he also collected a large bribe. Lustig and his personal secretary, Franco-American con man Robert Arthur Tourbillon (also known as Dan Collins), hastily took a train for Vienna with a suitcase full of cash.

The FBI fingerprint file for Lustig (Courtesy of Jeff Maysh)

Surprisingly, nothing happened. Poisson was too humiliated to complain to the police. A month later, Lustig returned to Paris, selected six more scrap dealers, and tried to sell the Tower once more. This time, the chosen victim went to the police and he brought them the counterfeit contract and papers before Lustig could close the deal, but Lustig and Collins managed to evade arrest and fled to the United States.

In America, Lustig was engaged in making counterfeit money and was so successful in this that in 1934 a special department was created, which had to figure out: who flooded the United States market with counterfeit bills. In 1935, Lustig was arrested. During the search plates for printing bills and counterfeit money amounting to 51 thousand dollars were confiscated. The day before the trial, he managed to escape, but soon he was caught again. The court sentenced him to 15 years’ imprisonment and, in addition, to 5 years for escaping from custody.

A counterfeit $5 banknote that it is believed to be created by Lustig and Watts. (Courtesy of Jeff Maysh)

Lustig was placed in the prison of Alcatraz, where he spent 12 years, and then died (whether from a brain tumor, or pneumonia) on March 11, 1947 at age of 57 and was buried in a common grave. The death certificate was written, that, most likely, his real name was Robert W. Miller. Minor difficulties arose when a clerk was to fill in the column “profession”, but after some thought, the official wrote the “seller”. Counterfeit bills made by Lustig got circulated in the US market for many years.

Lustig on his way to Alcatraz prison in September 1935.

Lustig's death certificate (Courtesy of Jeff Maysh)

Swinging Sixties: The Term May Be Not For Middle-Aged Women in the 1960s

Swinging Sixties evokes a youthful, active and liberal lifestyle with miniskirts and rock and roll. But it doesn't seem to be for middle-aged women. Take a look at these photos to see what middle-aged women in the 1960s looked like.

See more»

New York in the 1940s: A Look Back on NYC Through 45 Fantastic Found Snapshots

Take a tour of New York City in the 1940s with these fantastic found snapshots.

See more»