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Word: arounders (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1990-1999
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Usage:

...broken his ankle in a paragliding accident, and on Thursday morning, before his trip to the Yankees game, he'd at last had the cast removed. On Thursday night he was still limping as he negotiated the steps at the stadium, but by Friday he was getting around the George offices with the help of nothing but a cane...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Last Day | 8/2/1999 | See Source »

...Around 8:10, Kennedy pulled into the West Essex Sunoco station just across the street from the airport. Jack Tabibian, who owns the station, was accustomed to seeing Kennedy stop in when he came out to fly, but never this late. "He usually showed up between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m.," Tabibian says. If J.F.K. Jr. was concerned about the late hour and the fast-setting sun, he didn't show it. Walking unhurriedly into the store wearing a light gray T shirt, he made a bit of small talk with Mesfin Gebreegziabher, who was manning the cash register. Gebreegziabher...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Last Day | 8/2/1999 | See Source »

Nonetheless, around 8:30 p.m., shortly after Carolyn arrived in a black radio car, she, Kennedy and Lauren climbed inside the plane and belted themselves into its plush leather seats. At 8:38 p.m., 12 min. after sundown, the Essex tower cleared them for takeoff, and the wheels of the red- and-white Piper Saratoga left the ground...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Last Day | 8/2/1999 | See Source »

...When Teddy beat him to the bottom of the hill, the Senator made a fast turn to spray the boy with snow while wiping away tears. Last Friday, at the reception following the memorial service, it was Kennedy again who helped lift the spirits of those around him. He told stories and jokes, and found his voice to sing the hymn Just a Closer Walk with Thee...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Farewell, John | 8/2/1999 | See Source »

...this fabulous city, this creation of political philosophers and constitution writers. I think of the decidedly unromantic picture of H. L. Mencken sitting in the late night, overweight and sweating, pounding away at his keyboard in the Chesapeake heat, a fan blowing the steamy, soupy air around as he, clad only in a pair of BVDs, faces sheet after sheet of blank paper, ready to fill them with the excitement of the human narrative...

Author: By James Y. Stern, | Title: Where Old News Goes to Die | 7/30/1999 | See Source »

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