Word: beacon
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Newark-Miami run, Lieut. Harold Dietz plowed into a night fog over Maryland. He circled Salisbury, where he knew there was a private landing field. There was a field but its beacon had not been in use for some time. Townsfolk heard the ship droning in circles overhead. Too late they rushed out to the landing field to turn on the lights. Lieut. Dietz pushed on to Crisfield, where his ship hit a tree and a telephone pole trying to land. The motor was thrown free and so was Lieut. Dietz. His skull was fractured, but he managed to shout...
Just before dawn next morning, Lieut. Norman Burnett ran into a howling snow-storm on the Cleveland-Chicago route. The ceiling closed down and he missed a beacon. Then his gasoline line clogged and he went into a tight spin. He had no mail so he took to his parachute. In landing he fractured...
...resources of the country with more discretion than it has shown so far, it is not true, nevertheless, that those of the Left Wing are either blind to the possibilities of their measures, or, on the other hand, filled with the shining vision of the Kremlin as God's beacon in a benighted world. Henry Wallace's article in the Sunday Times revealed a keen, practical man quite cognizant of the alternatives before the nation, in their long-run and short-run aspects, and alive as much to the dangers of fascism as to the necessity for national discipline. Where...
...industry worth mentioning. The Army and Navy did all the flying. In 1925 the Government awarded its first airmail contract to a private operator. A year later came the Air Commerce Act, and the beginnings of an airway system. Landing fields were hewn out of desert and mountain land. Beacon lights blossomed amid snow-capped peaks. The mail went through, at $3 a pound, with the pilot sitting on a parachute. Now and then, when a certain St. Louis mail pilot came roaring in with capers which today would bring instant dismissal, the Chicago field manager would shout: "Bellies...
...Joyous Season (by Philip Barry; Arthur Hopkins, producer) is a solemn and sometimes sprightly investigation of the spiritual life of a family of shell-backed Bostonians. The Parleys live in a dingily magnificent mansion of Beacon Street. Their farm on the Merrimac River and the possibility that existence may contain more for them than security on a "careful, calm, contented four percent" are two of the things that they remember when the maverick of the family, Sister Christina (Lillian Gish), arrives from the nunnery to spend Christmas. Before Christina arrives, the Parleys are worried mainly because they think...