Word: alto
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...mile tunnel that slices through the rolling countryside behind Stanford University in Palo Alto, Calif., was built for one purpose only: to house a linear accelerator with a beam of 20-billion-volt electrons that might knock stubborn secrets out of atomic nuclei. The accelerator is not yet complete, but its construction has already led to a striking discovery in the unexpected field of paleontology. A bulldozer digging a trench at the end of the tunnel veered a few feet from its guideline and uncovered a ponderous and peculiar skeleton...
...search for a replacement for retiring Law Dean Carl B. Spaeth, Stanford University managed to main tain its record as a ferocious raider of Ivy League faculties. Yale's bright, articulate Bayless Manning, 41, rolled into Palo Alto last summer completely equipped with wife, four children, a black Porsche sports car, a worn set of Shakespeare, an Egyptian statue, a dagger that had been used in a Philip pine murder and a rapidly expanding reputation as one of the busiest young legal scholars in the business. Manning's former boss, Yale Law Dean Eugene V. Rostow, had already...
ELECTION SPECIAL (ABC, 10:30-11 p.m.). Palo Alto County in Iowa has always voted for the winning presidential candidate. A study of this county's temper...
...material in this album of pop and corn is scarcely worth the Duke's attention. Fortunately, his style shines through almost every bar of such half-roasted chestnuts as Never on Sunday and I Left My Heart in San Francisco. Oldtime Ellington Saxpots Jimmy Hamilton (tenor), Johnny Hodges (alto) and Harry Carney (baritone) add to the luster. Standouts are Russell Procope's low-register clarinet solo in More and Cootie Williams' soaring trumpet work on Fly Me to the Moon. And binding it all together is the deft piano scrimshaw of Ellington himself...
...fiddle, eyes hooded in dark glasses, sweat beading his forehead, his orientally sinister mustache drooping. He leaned over his big bass and began to bow. The mournful, dolorous, lyrical introduction swelled into the horns' full statement of the theme. A flute skittered in. Suddenly a roaring, vibrant alto sax soared over the full horns. Mingus dropped his bow, began to thump. He danced out in front of his bass, bouncing up and down, swarming over the instrument, crashing together swift blocks of strident chords. Drums pounded accents like a Mingus rage coming on. Suddenly, the music was thunder...