Word: capes
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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When her Fulbright took her to Cape Town, she immersed herself in black South African culture. "She wanted to live among the people," says Bolich. Soon after arriving last fall, she was speaking Xhosa, dancing to the local jazz and spending nights with friends in the townships. Says Melanie Jacobs, her roommate, who is mixed-race: "She was color-blind and completely at home with us." At the University of the Western Cape, African National Congress legal expert and executive member Dullah Omar guided her research on women's issues and voter education. But her interests pulled her back...
Last Wednesday Biehl was preparing to leave Cape Town. She was to fly back to Stanford on Friday to begin doctoral studies. As she had done for months, Biehl offered some fellow students a lift back to their homes in the black townships. They piled into Biehl's mustard-colored Mazda, the one with the bumper sticker reading OUR LAND NEEDS PEACE. Around 5 p.m., as she drove into the township of Guguletu, a group of teenagers hurled stones at the car. Trapped behind another vehicle, Biehl was a sitting target for the brick that shattered her windshield...
...chairman, and Agnes Gund, president of Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art. A visitor to the house said it has had an air of neglect since McNamara's wife Margaret died in 1981. McNamara, who won't be back at the house until the fall, told the Cape Cod Times that his visits include "running down to the beach and having a little swim in the nude in the morning...
These days he's paid $1 million or so a year to take on fights. He doesn't cut much of a figure -- beefy and rumpled. But as the courtroom action begins, he's Clark Kent emerging from the telephone booth in his cape -- energetic, dominating, intuitive, shooting out questions like laser beams...
...tidy backyard of the Cape Cod-style house with the cranberry shutters, Jessica DeBoer is having a picnic with her dog Miles. Her mother watches her through the blinds on the kitchen window. Everything feels so very normal. But the clock ticks loudly and the blinds all stay down and an answering machine screens the phone calls. Reporters keep calling -- and sad friends, and adoption experts -- and strangers who feel sorry for them...