Word: boulevarded
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Turning away from the river, the course climbed a hill and then descended onto the grassy "green sword" that splits Blackstone Boulevard, where a walk-a-thon was in progress. The hoards of people and dogs milling around turned Blackstone Boulevard into an obstacle course and provided the biggest challenge of the day, since no extra points were awarded for wiping out spectators...
...mansion, near his kidney-shaped swimming pool. Along the line volunteers from a county rescue team patrolled, watching for victims of heat exhaustion. And hawkers patrolled, too, selling everything from autographed pictures of The King to silk scarves he wore to color film. Across the street--Elvis Presley Boulevard--there was still more. The shops that have sprung up in the past year sell everything from Elvis wastebaskets to Elvis swizzle sticks to ceramic guitars with Elvis's picture on them. And they do a brisk business, like the local florists, who were bringing in van after van of bouquets...
Elvis Presley Boulevard, a wide strip of used car lots, fast food restaurants and gas stations, leads to Graceland. By noon the rising temperature is well into the 90s and ambulances are carrying away those who have succumbed to the heat while crowding in front of the ornate plantation-style house. A brick wall on the grounds has turned into a "Wall of Love," covered with scrawled messages from admirers. Some of the fans have patiently endured the three-hour wait every day for a week so they can again and again walk up the shaded driveway, past rows...
...Paris, pro-Iraqi Palestinians struck while Arafat was in Havana attending a Cuban-sponsored world youth festival. Storming Arab League headquarters on Boulevard Haussmann, two gunmen shot their way into the offices of the P.L.O. One of them killed Ezzedin Kalak, 40, a close friend of Arafat's, as well as Kalak's assistant, Hammad Adnan...
...weather was far too cold for early fall, and that the heavy drizzle had all but soaked through the neat white shirt and grey pants of my parochial-school uniform. Nothing much mattered except that every student of Our Lady Queen of Martyrs School was dutifully lined along Queens Boulevard in New York to cheer Pope Paul VI on his triumphal tour of the city, and that in that brief instant before the bullet-proof Lincoln whizzed him past us to Manhattan, he had waved to us. The moment captured everyone--the beaming nuns, the camera-toting parents, the stern...