ROSH HASHANAH

West Bloomfield
resident Joel Letvin
says caring for his
bees is a honey
of a job.

ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM

Features Editor

hey start slowly. The
guards, standing outside
the entrance to the com-
munal home, begin to
twitch their legs. Heeding
the call, others send messages to
those inside. They emit a high-pitched
buzzing as they work frantically to
communicate their message: the
home is on fire.
A moment later, they are every-
where. Thousands buzz about as if in
a frenzied dance. They swirl like a
tornado.
Nearby, Joel Letvin stands
quietly. Every now and then he uses

a machine to puff a little smoke
through the wooden frames of the
hive, making the bees believe their
home is burning.
Once many of the bees are gone,
Letvin uses a thin metal bar to pry
open the top of the hive. He removes
one layer, then another and another.
He smiles. Here is the treasure:
honey.
Letvin, who lives in West Bloom-
field, has been working with bees for
the past 15 years. For many years it
was his business. He owned several
hundred hives' and sold his honey at
farmers' markets and health food
stores.
But it was a hard way to make a
living. He never knew how much
honey he'd be able to produce from

season to season. "It can be a lot of
work for a little money," he says.
Now a pension actuary, Letvin
still collects about 400 pounds of
honey a year to give as gifts to fami-
ly and friends. His hives are hidden
deep in the woods in his back yard.
Letvin became intrigued with
bees while working as a volunteer in
Africa with the Peace Corps. He had
worked for a beekeeper after joining
the Peace Corps and had read at
length about making honey.
Getting the bees started is easy,
Letvin says. Order about 2.5 pounds
of them through the mail. Or, look in
the neighborhood. In search of bees,
Letvin used to contact the police and
fire departments.
"People were always calling me

to come and get them," he says.
Then, find a queen. Create a hive
with a box and use wooden slats
with beeswax inside. Pour the bees
in. That's all there is to it. "The bees
will take over from there."
Expect a crowd. Letvin estimates
that some 50,000 bees live in each
hive; another 10,000 come in the
summer.
Unlike virtually all other in-
sects, bees do not hibernate. They
live off of old honey in the winter
and stay warm by exercising. Male
bees who don't produce fare less
well. "They're thrown out the door
in the winter," Letvin says.
The bees to entice are honeybees.
Their backs are orange and black.
Continued on Page 27

THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS

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