Word: airings
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...with the people who elected him," said Agnew, "without having the President's words and thoughts characterized through the prejudices of hostile critics before they can be digested." It is true that a commentator can assure himself of a vast automatic audience by following the President on the air, and the instant rebuttals or analyses are often feeble. But in the case of the Viet Nam speech, reporters had an hour to study the text before Nixon spoke; they were also briefed on the contents by White House advisers so that they were not speaking entirely off the cuff...
...producer of the ABC evening news, puts the industry's case in its best possible light. "My politics are more conservative than Vice President Agnew would have people believe, but that doesn't matter. My job is to keep my politics and those of others off the air. You can't always be objective because you bring your experiences to things-so you try to be fair. We are on guard. We're not infallible...
...senselessness was again present. But it died quickly as we marched up the avenue and sat around the monument. There were so many people of all ages, sizes, shapes and colors. One sign read "You have finally brought us together, Dick." At the monument the speeches were dull, the air was icy, and the songs fell flat. We built fires with the AFL-CIO banners. No fools, those workers, they brought wooden sticks with their placards. A little of what made Woodstock a legend made life bearable at the monument...
...time we reached midtown. we were exulting. The streets were crawling with freaks! Painted cars, beads, all the paraphernalia; smiles, laughter, peace signs, camaraderie. Even the March of Death, staggered and otherwise unimpressive at that hour, was vibrating with our kind of people. As Ferlinghetti might say, the air was alive with love. How could anything go wrong...
...FLOW. Like the October Moratorium in Boston, the next day's march was fluid-not a march, but a flow, with its own inner currents. Unlike the October march, it was joyous. Even some of the policemen were smiling. The sun was shining, the air was crisp. We chanted some, just to let Washington know. And we sang, because we wanted to. Some of my Harvard friends started the refrain of "Alice's Restaurant," and a few other people joined in. Every now and then an enchanting little tune wound its way down the line: "Oh, what a lovely thing...