Word: childing
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...again be true that "a little child shall lead them"? A rousing cheer to Christian Angie Evans, who had the courage to speak up at the anti-integration meeting [TiME, Sept. 22] in Van Buren, Ark. I am a "Southern moderate" whose voice is buried under the tide of those who clamor to keep segregation. You said that we lack "moral leadership." I heartily agree. Where are those who are ready to stand up and be counted for believing that segregation is unChristian? How can those of us here in the South start a movement wherein our voices...
...operating table, the heart of the baby boy began fibrillating-quivering ineffectually. His surgeons quickly restored blood circulation by manual massage, but that solved nothing. Nearly an hour later, they tried something entirely new: a small (10-milligram) dose of tetraethylammonium chloride injected directly into the child's coronary artery system. Almost immediately the heart began beating regularly again...
...exhibits, however, fell victime to the charges that they were not typical of everyday America. There was concern lest visitors thought that every American child played with the elaborate modern toys on display. One filmstrip on life in these United States included a housewife flying her plane to the grocery. And people who do not care for modern art protested that the exhibit of contemporary paintings and sculpture was unrepresentative...
Lester trotted to the mike, allowed as how he was very pleased to be playing before such a wonderful crowd and for such a noble cause (a clinic for child guidance, the need for which was amply demonstrated during the course of the evening), and proceeded to his music ("the order of the day"). After running through a pleasant little medley of Lester Lanin favorites, L.L. brought his musicians to a halt and turned around to accept the fervent applause of the appreciative multitude. There was no applause. Lester thanked the audience anyway, and, rather embarrassed, went back...
...takes up Claude's life when, at 15, the boy begins the first of his vagabond journeys, part flight, part search, that never lead him to a permanent dwelling place, never free him completely from a grim, autocratic mother. Claude is small and soft-bodied, physically still a child but already, thanks to an understanding teacher, a fast-maturing poet. He stows away on a train to Paris. Drunk with wonder, he prowls this incandescent city, perches on curbstones to scribble his poems. He sleeps on pavements and swipes food from the markets. Caught and jailed, he is raped...