Word: boxcar
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...boss, purposeful K. T. Keller was a high-school boy in Mount Joy, Pa. Symbol of Walter Chrysler's youthful irresponsibility was his big silver-plated tuba, which he played in roundhouse bands, shipped from town to town in friendly cabooses while he rode up ahead in a boxcar with the hoboes. Mark of K. T. Keller's determination to go places was his position at the top of the Mount Joy High School graduating class...
...Railroad in Kansas City back in 1873. Learning telegraphy in his spare time, he was a full-fledged operator at 14, a combined telegrapher and brakeman on the Santa Fe three years later. For the next 50 years he was shunted from line to line like a boxcar in a busy season. He saw hard living in Kansas cow towns, hard drinking at Northwest division points, hard work everywhere. Last week his son, a brakeman himself, offered Harry French's biography as a typical story of a last-generation American workman...
...keeping them, Dr. Blair decided to let his okapi become accustomed to civilization before moving him. At last, late this May, the Buta okapi boarded a side-wheel steamer at Stanleyville and started down the Congo River. At Leopoldville, where the rapids begin, he was shuttled into a boxcar, and at Matadi, at the mouth of the Congo, on July i went aboard a Dutch ship bound for Antwerp...
Nobody knows how many hoboes there are in the U. S. Nobody knows how many of them are women. Relief Administrator Harry Hopkins says there are 6,800. "BoxCar Bertha," whose ghost-written autobiography appeared last week, doubles the estimate. Whether or not Bertha is always strictly accurate in her figures or her facts, her narrative is cauliflower-ear-marked by the brutal truth, wears no wig. Beside Sister of the Road, such recent revelations as Mark Benney's Angels in Undress and John Worby's The Other Half, pale into comparative respectability. Bertha's birthright...
...tricky tit-tat-toe of tactics but a muddled melee of men. To stay-at-homes with a clear wrong view, the war might seem a campaign, a crusade, a cause; but to the men who did its manual labor it was "a bellyache, a confused strife for boxcar space, a useless march, a grudge at troopers and gunners and wagoneers, a surfeit of hills and towns and faces and sunshine and rain of the Cumberland Valley. It was too many men and too few women, it was homesickness and yet wanderlust, and a cut finger which was slow...