Word: bricked
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...morning last week Shipping Clerk Karl Wehn of Greenfield Tap & Die Corp. opened the company shipping room in downtown Manhattan and found that someone had been there before him. A three-foot hole gaped through a brick wall into an adjoining building. Empty were shelves and storage bins. Missing were valuable, high-speed drills and carbon-steel drills used in machine tools for airplane-engine and munitions manufacture-drills, that had been packed in cloth and straw and wrapped in brown paper, ready for shipment...
...Harry Hopkins was well known to every Term III Democrat: it traversed the plush gloom and sombre elegance of the old red-brick Blackstone Hotel; down the red-carpeted marble corridors to a spacious sitting room of candy-striped chairs, a crystal chandelier, a plumed, bustled lady of the English Regency, framed in the pink-&-gilt fireplace, delicately offering all comers a symbolic prize-a prickly rose. In this room operated dapper young Vic Sholis, Hopkins' secretary, and soft-spoken David K. Niles, the Janizariat's undercover man, who engineered the biggest financial coup of the 1936 campaign...
...Garry went into politics at the age of 12, when he rang doorbells for his father, who was an alderman in Chicago's Eighth Ward. He also learned to lay brick (and still carries a union card), but for more than 30 years Chicago's brand...
...they do it is less a mystery than a knack. Typical of Stouffer's is its five-story restaurant on Manhattan's Fifth Avenue - dignified grey colonial brick front, tasteful Williamsburg interior decorations. Average lunch check is 60?, dinner 91?. Profit works out to 4.2? a meal. Food (all portions carefully measured) not only is good but looks good. The chain also goes in for comely waitresses - referred to only as "Stouffer girls." Stouffer's prefers them not too beautiful, with a touch of Bryn Mawr. Some of them have made as much as $75 a week...
...night last week, a seedy young man darted out of a subway station in downtown Brooklyn, stationed himself at the doors of a grimy brick building at No. 131 Livingston St. Soon others, some in spruce business suits, some in greasy overalls, some old, some young, lined up behind him. Through the night they waited. The line lengthened down the block, curled around its four sides. As day broke and the line sweated in the July sun, functionaries of the New York City Board of Education arrived, hurried inside the building to begin interviewing applicants for the U. S. industrial...