Word: cab
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Last week Pittsburgh's taxi strike became violent, culminated in a pitched battle. Like wolves, small packs of strikers ran about the streets of the East Liberty business district, threw bricks, stones, milk-bottles at every passing cab. They swooped down on parked cabs, drove off drivers, wrecked their machines. Gradually the scattered groups grew larger, coalesced into a thousand-headed monster thinking trouble. Every police reserve in the city raced to disperse the mob. Mounted police charged it unsuccessfully. When the rioting held up traffic, passengers piled out of street cars, joined the fight. Only after three hours...
Meanwhile in New York City taxi grumblings, never still, grew louder. All companies complained that current prices were too low for profits. The city has some 250 cab companies, owning 24,000 taxicabs, operated by 70,000 drivers. The prevalent rate, cheapest in the U. S., is 15? for the first quarter-mile, 5? for each succeeding quarter-mile. Small companies, ramshackle independents charge more; their cabs are avoided by the city-wise. All drivers get 40% of metred receipts. With twelve-hour shifts, day men may get $30 or $40 per week. Night men, with more business, say they...
...Nord, some prosperous, more poor, nearly all bearing bouquets of flowers. Stalwart youths of Les Camelots du Roi, or Royalist League, formed a guard of honor, drawn up in double file, eyes front, facing a lane which extended from the railway platform to a waiting taxicab-a very special cab. With sheepish smiles and shrugs policemen representing the majesty of the French Republic kept at a respectful distance. They would have been mobbed if they had interfered. "Vive la France!" roared the crowd. "La France royale et immortelle! Vive le Roi! Vive le Dauphin!" and then with a mighty shout...
...little man was so overcome with joy that tears coursed steadily down his cheeks, sobs choked him. He was unable to respond to frenzied exhortations for a speech. The pandemonium lasted 15 minutes. Almost smothered by his well-wishers, Editor Leon Daudet clung to the famous taxi, the very cab in which last year he was spirited away from the Prison de la Santé to Brussels with French secret service men upon his track (TIME, July...