Word: brickly
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Kans., where the three-story, hollowed-out brick Public School 21 looms over rows of abandoned homes, about all that's left functioning in the business district is, again, a grain elevator and a severely weathered tiny wooden post office with the ever present wind whipping an American flag out front. A rusting sign recalls better times: RESERVED FOR U.S. MAIL VEHICLES--as if there's any competition for a parking spot...
...ability to help people fill in gaps in their family tree. Leo Little, a retired engineer in Austin, Texas, had used historical records to trace his lineage back to his great-great-grandfather Thomas Little, who was born in Alabama in 1816. Then, he says, "I hit a brick wall. I knew my Littles were from the South, but there were a lot of Littles from the South, and it was impossible to sort out." After he took a DNA test from Family Tree DNA, he began leading one of the company's 1,900 surname projects, in this case...
...Griswold, a former Harvard Law School dean, will go down in the history books for being on the wrong side of the high court’s 6-to-3 landmark decision. But here on campus, he will be forever known as the namesake of the supremely ugly gray brick office building northwest of the Science Center...
...sight startled visitors. There, in the center of Longzhao, a prospering village on the outskirts of the city of Chengdu, were the crumbling remains of a mud-brick house, its thatched roof scattered around it like straw dandruff. The hut, obviously abandoned, was surrounded by freshly constructed brick-and-concrete apartments. The eyesore was cleared away a few weeks ago, but why had it remained so long? "We kept it there so that people would remember what it was like five years ago," explains Ru Furong, director of Longzhao's garment factory. "We used it to educate the young...
Jeeps left over from the war, 1955 Chevrolets, 1953 Czech-made Skodas and armies of dilapidated jalopies jounce and judder through the broad avenues of Rangoon, Burma's capital. In the distance, red-brick Victorian steeples poke up among the golden domes of the pagodas, and along the road, great white-columned English mansions stand empty like haunted houses, their walls mildewed, their gardens overrun with weeds, moisture dripping from their eaves. In the Strand Hotel, a grand monument to colonial decay, ceiling fans turn lazily above a lost-and-found case still stuffed with pince-nez, ladies' compacts...