Word: caped
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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THERE was a new stir around Florida's Cape Canaveral, in U.S. missileland. On the hot, palmetto-studded beach, Photographer Stan Wayman, on assignment for TIME, set up his camera, trained its long telescopic lens in the direction of four gantry towers two miles away, and waited. The wait turned into a monotonous, week-long vigil. The monotony was relieved by the arrival of his wife with an ice chest and a bottle of champagne. It was the Waymans' seventh anniversary; they celebrated it on the beach...
Haggard from seemingly endless days of overwork, 200 missilemen reported in at Florida's Cape Canaveral missile test center one murky night last week to give the Atlas its final preening before flight. In a blockhouse a few hundred feet from the launching pad, physicists and engineers started radioing to foremen the long lists that comprised the exquisitely detailed ritual of inspection. Fitted together in the great steel bird's innards were some 300,000 parts, and a failure in one of them could cause a misfire...
...paper, Atlas is "intercontinental," capable of soaring 5,000 miles. But Atlas I, launched at Cape Canaveral last June, flew erratically, lived only 22 seconds before a safety officer pressed a button to destroy it. Atlas II started off promisingly. In its straight-up flight, lasting 20 seconds or so, it seemed to be, in the missilemen's term, "programing" perfectly, i.e., doing what its makers and tenders expected. But as it arched into its southeastward course, the tail fire glowed too dark, and the bird faltered. The turbine pumps were failing to feed the right mixture of fuel...
Three days after Nkrumah's conciliatory broadcast last week, Edusei promised a toga-clad, hallelujah-singing crowd at Cape Coast that by next month Parliament would vote that "anybody who gives a speech to the discredit of the government will be removed to a detention camp." Shaking his leopard-spotted baton, he shouted: "I love power, and so Prime Minister Nkrumah has given me the most powerful of all the ministries. I am going to use it sternly and strongly, no matter what." When the crowd whooped gleefully, "We like it. we like it!", Edusei responded: "Call us Communists...
Composer Bernstein strode in, his greying hair dramatically atousle, a navy-blue coat draped cape-style over his shoulders with artful carelessness. Everyone was waiting impatiently for the morning papers. Bernstein brought the news to his table: "They're all raves except Kerr" (the Herald Tribune's authoritatively trenchant Walter Kerr). Added Bernstein: "You know, Kerr's an inverted snob. He's such an intellectual that he can't stand a musical unless it's got a chorus line...