When I was a kid, my family used a lot of honey. In fact, I can remember my dad buying honey in a 5 gallon can that he and mother poured up into one quart fruit jars to store in the cellar. Of course a lot of it would turn to sugar, but setting the open jar into a pan of hot water would turn it back.
And then when I was about 11 or 12 years old, Dad & I were squirrel hunting on a neighbor's property (with his permission, of course) and we found a bee tree. We went and told the neighbor, who said he had no use for them; that if we wanted them to go ahead and get them. I sure didn't want them, but Dad did.

So he went and bought a hive and borrowed a smoker, and I had to help him cut down the tree, split it, find the queen and move her and some honey comb into the hive. I had some vague hopes of not getting stung, so I put on a long sleeved shirt with rubber bands around the cuffs, found an old lace curtain Mother had discarded, put it on over my straw hat, turned the collar up on the shirt, and tied a string around my neck to keep that curtain down on top of the shirt collar. I don't think that tree had hardly hit the ground before there were 2 bees under that old curtain with me, so I discarded it and learned to work bees just as Dad did; with no protection at all. But he liked the job and I never did.

Anyway, Dad was so pleased with that hive, that he went and bought 6 more hives with bees already in them.
And I decided many years ago that I'd never eat anymore honey if I had to be the one to take it away from a bee.
And then I worked in the Post Office in Dallas from March, 1959, to March, 1964. At that time, bee colonies were still shipped via parcel post. We'd get square cardboard boxes full of bees and the boxes would have a diamond shaped hole in two sides with screen over those holes. I once told my supervisor that he could punch me out on the time clock if one of those boxes got broken open because I'd already be gone home.