Word: 62nd
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...Clemente, Nixon last week spent what his still-ardent defender, Rabbi Baruch Korff, termed "a quiet, meditative, prayerful, reflective" 62nd birthday. The rabbi, who spoke to reporters in a thinly veiled effort to help raise money to meet Nixon's continuing legal expenses, said Nixon was pleased by the release of his accusers. "That is very good, to ease the burden of man in time of trouble," Korff quoted Nixon as saying. Korff said that the fund drive he heads has raised $95,000 for Nixon's costs, but it needs another $15,000 to meet...
...party got off to a rousing, Texas-style start in the same hotel bar where Teddy Roosevelt was supposed to have recruited the Rough Riders. Before the day was over, Lady Bird Johnson and the friends and relatives who helped her celebrate her 62nd birthday, including America-Beautifiers Laurence Rockefeller and Mary Lasker and former Press Secretary Liz Carpenter, attended a mariachi Mass in San Antonio's 254-year-old San Jose mission. They then proceeded to the mission's high-ceilinged granary for a dinner by candlelight. The high point of the day, though, occurred when...
...proposed an income tax of up to 91% on all revenues earned from oil pumped in Norwegian fields. Moreover, it has created a state-owned oil company, Statoil, that must be included as a partner in nearly all private drilling ventures. The government flatly forbids drilling north of the 62nd parallel, where most of the nation's 30,000 fishermen live and work. The fishermen fear that oil spills and giant rigs will destroy their fishing banks. Besides being the mainstay of the nation's economic prosperity-at least until the oil boom-the fishermen represent a potent...
...plays later, McInally snared a Holt aerial just inches short of the goal line, setting up Harvard's first touchdown of the year and also establishing a new Crimson record, most career receptions, for the 6 ft. 6 in. senior. The grab, Mac's 62nd lifetime, eclipsed the old standard set by Carter Lloyd...
...JUNE 2 of my sophomore year, the 62nd anniversary of Quentin Compson III's putting flatirons in his shoes and jumping off of the Anderson bridge, I spent the evening with a girl, who was then a close friend and was then from the South, reading Absalom, Absalom! for our English 700 exam (back then it was and it deserved to be called 700). We read to each other by the light of a street lamp on the bridge next to the secret plaque marking the spot from which Quentin was said to have jumped. Such dedication to Faulknerian trivia...