Word: clapboard
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...town meeting began exactly at 8 p.m. in the dimly lighted white clapboard auditorium overlooking Port Stanley's harbor. In the chair was Councilor Terry Peck, 45, an earnest, stocky plumber and former police chief who dutifully jotted notes on the proceedings. But the residents of the tiny capital (pop. 1,050) of the Falkland Islands were not getting together simply to discuss the local issues that bedevil most small communities. One man asked when the town gym, which is now occupied by British soldiers, would be open to the public again. Another grumbled about the military trucks that...
...Meramec swept through the town in the worst flood in Times Beach's history. The town, which sprang up in the 1920s as a summer resort and later became a permanent working-class community, is now a picture of near desolation. A muddy brown film coats the small clapboard houses and trailer homes, many of which are ripped apart. Stoves and pieces of carpet sit in yards. Piles of trash and decaying food are heaped everywhere. Many of the 800 families are homeless...
They have occupied the town gymnasium, and sleep on the floors of the courtroom and the town magistrate's office. They even come into the kitchens of the tin and clapboard seafront houses to take tea from their adopted mums like loving sons...
...freestanding tower, a parlor for small weddings and other assemblies, a social hall, a youth center and a library with staff offices. It was conceived in the Pilgrim and Puritan tradition of early New England churches, but its form is traditional only in that the white-trimmed gray clapboard and spire convey a sense of historic continuity. The architecture is closer to the modern simplicity of Mies van der Rohe than the baroque intricacy of Sir Christopher Wren...
...pure will in Reds. But Faith Dunlap is a much less interesting woman and wife than Louise Bryant, and provides a much less challenging character for Keaton's talents. Albert Finney portrays her husband George, the archetypal, egotistical-yet-vulnerable San Francisco writer. They bicker in a picturesque old clapboard house softly nestled in the bucolic mellowness of northern California. Of their daughters, the three younger ones giggle, fight and roll their eyes throughout, as if the movie were a 90-minute toothpaste commercial ("Oh, Mom, do we hafta go to bed?"). Dana Hill, though, makes the oldest sister...