Word: bradfords
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...BAND PLAY DIXIE-Roark Bradford-Harper...
...Student Council will expound its aims and activities; for the CRIMSON, President John H. Morison '35 will carry the torch; Francis D. Moore '35, president of the Lampoon, Howard H. Mason '35, president of the Advocate, John C. Haggott '35, president of the Dramatic Club, and Henry Bradford Washburn, Jr. '33, president of the Mountaineering Club, will speak for their respective organizations. William G. Kirby '35, president of the Glee Club will speak both for the Pierian Sodality and for the Instrumental Clubs, and for the Liberal Club and the Debating Council the orator will be Victor H. Kramer...
...Dartmouth expedition which had as its two-fold purpose the ascent of Mt. Crillon's 12,728 foot peak in the Fairweather range of Alaska and the collecting of accurate information in the little-known field of glacier movements. The party, composed of 11 men under the leadership of Bradford Washburn '33, was divided into two groups; the climbing party of Adams Carter '36, Howard Kellog '37, Waldo Holcombe '33, Edward C. Streeter Jr. '36, Bradford Washburn '33, and Henry S. Woods of Dartmouth; and the base camp party, which was to make geophysical and geological surveys...
Generalissimo of what may become the No. 1 strike in U. S. history was Francis Joseph Gorman. Thirty-one years ago, aged 13, young Francis arrived in the U. S. from his native Bradford, in Yorkshire. In Providence, R. I. he got a job as a sweeper in the Atlantic Mills. When he was 20 he joined his first union. Since then he has been more interested in the manufacture of labor solidarity than of textiles. In 1928 he was elected vice president of United Textile Workers, the job he still holds. After Thomas F. MacMahon, the Union...
...tawdry Goose Fair at Nottingham disgusted him. His home town of Bradford, in the West Riding of Yorkshire, he found changed for the worse. At Bradford a reunion of his old battalion made Author Priestley angrily reminiscent of the War. "I have had playmates, I have had companions, but all, all are gone; and they were killed by greed and muddle and monstrous cross-purposes, by old men gobbling and roaring in clubs, by diplomats working underground like monocled moles, by journalists wanting a good story, by hysterical women waving flags, by grumbling debenture-holders, by strong, silent, beribboned asses...