Word: cigar
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...Fowles had it as a child, it was the only sign he did have of his future profession. The son of a suburban cigar importer, he went to an English public school. "I enjoyed it, played cricket well and was successful." In fact, he became head boy, "a very efficient little Gestapo" who punished the other boys with a cane for their misdemeanors. After school, Fowles served in the British marines, which he hated. "I also began to hate what I was becoming in life -a British Establishment young hopeful. I decided instead to become a sort of anarchist...
Died. Armand ("Al") Weill, 75, controversial prizefight matchmaker and manager who guided Rocky Marciano to the world's heavyweight title; of heart disease; in Miami. Of all the boxing figures of the '30s and '40s, few were more hated than the conniving, cigar-chewing Weill, who often used his matchmaking jobs to further the careers of fighters he managed. He had four world champions over the years, ending with Marciano, whom he picked up as an unknown in 1948 and secretly handled until 1952, when he became the Brockton Blockbuster's official manager...
...press then shifted over to Mr. Redgate and asked him some questions. "God bless you, Mr. Redgate," a woman in back of me said. After the interviews, Mr. Redgate took a drag on his small cigar and talked with some of his friends...
...claim all that and more. He first came into public view-a quasi-somnambulant rotundity in prison stripes afloat in a rubber raft-in an Oldenburg Happening mounted in the swimming pool of a Manhattan health club. Next came instant stardom before a Warhol camera. His role: smoking a cigar for an interminable hour and a half. "I have a certain unusual look," says Henry, and who would dispute him? Marisol carved his rumpled pants and big black shades (now replaced by granny glasses) in three dimensions. David Hockney portrayed him as a prim, vested, bearded presence on a purple...
...American folk villain, the match of such folk heroes as Paul Bunyan and Davy Crockett. If Minnesota's lakes are the hoof-prints of Bunyan's blue ox, why can't Warren Harding, Al Capone and Joseph McCarthy be the droppings from Eddie West's cigar...