Word: boyhoods
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...meal. My mother always told us you had to start the day right, with plenty of warm food in your stomach." Hailing Dwight D. Eisenhower as the greatest President since Abraham Lincoln, Watson told Sullivan that the U.S. is in better shape than in Watson's boyhood. Snorting at reports of growing crime and juvenile delinquency, Thomas Watson summed up some bright spots in a survey of U.S. life made for his own enlightenment: "More churches are being built now, every day, than ever before. Education is on the increase. Those are the important things...
...Dawes, dead these five years, would have been delighted to know that Hughes, who is about as far a cry from Hell 'n' Maria as a man can be, loves the job. Rowland Hughes came to Washington in 1953, a political innocent. A conscientious Christian Scientist since boyhood, he has never been known to raise his voice or slap a back-despite the swashbuckling appearance of an eyepatch that covers an eyelid injury.* By nature and by dint of 37 years' unbroken service with New York's National City Bank, he is that increasingly valuable...
Hobgoblin Mood. Burchfield's love for nature grew naturally out of his boyhood in Salem, Ohio. The woods, fields and swamps on Salem's outskirts were his favorite refuge, where he found a private world overlaid with hobgoblin moods, hints of dark, mysterious forces and occasional lyrical sunbursts of delight. But his first struggling attempts to set down this world of nature met with little popular success. Ever self-doubting, Burchfield decided to turn to realistic paintings of the world...
...seemed to sweep onward like a flooded stream; there was no stopping it." An example of Burchfield's new-found freedom is Summer Afternoon (opposite), started as a sketch in 1917 and completed as a watercolor in 1948. The finished scene shows Little Beaver Creek, Burchfield's boyhood swimming hole, capturing with almost Van Gogh-like intensity his own feeling of "the ineffable peace of a quiet summer day in those far-off times. All things seem to look at and yearn toward...
...stories are mentally furnished in something better than Farrell's caveman modern. Kilroy Was Here is an evocative, semi-autobiographical prowl among the littered streets and crumbling tenements of Farrell's boyhood on Chicago's South Side. Tart as melting aspirin on the tongue, it lives up to its tag line, "Kilroy was here but left because the place stank." A Baptism in Italy takes a tender look at a beat-up Italian writer-revolutionary who is punchdrunk from too many rounds in a concentration camp. He rouses himself to play gracious host to a sympathetic pair...