Word: collections
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...many acts of government could be performed better on a local level. Neighborhood leaders, for example, would know better than city hall when to patrol the streets and how to clean them, how to maintain the parks and collect the garbage. The flourishing block associations in the city are a modest revival of local self-government. A portion of the city labor force might be dispatched to work in the neighborhoods. One employee could serve as a captain to coordinate activities for a five-block area and stimulate volunteer work. With a limited power of the purse, communities could choose...
...than the public work force. While it costs the city $45 a ton to pick up garbage, private contractors do it for $22 a ton in San Francisco, $19 a ton in Boston and $18 a ton in Minneapolis. Their incentives are far greater since the more refuse they collect, the more they are paid. City sanitation men receive the same pay no matter how much-or little -work they...
...during his tenure either. But Mora gives his audience a glimpse of the millions who gained employment through F.D.R.'s pet programs, the Civilian Conservation Corps and the Works Progress Administration. We see a policeman sternly advising an itinerant freight train rider to "Return where you came from and collect relief and find a government...
...underground life is austere and squalid. Using phony names, many hard-core radicals collect welfare payments and food stamps. Their time is largely spent shoplifting food and other necessities, stealing purses, cashing forged checks, searching for new hideouts and plotting. "It's a tough, dirty life," says Larry D. Grathwohl, 27, a San Francisco area resident who is the only FBI informant known to have successfully penetrated the Weather Underground. Although his experiences took place from November 1969 until April 1970, law officials believe that they still accurately reflect underground life in California and elsewhere. Last week TIME Correspondent...
...Telegraph Avenue and going to wild Berkeley bashes and digging the time away, but despite my dreams and my intentions, I soon realized that I was all partied out. This was not Cambridge, this wasn't my home turf, and my doubts were reinforced nightly when I made collect phone calls back to Sue in Boston and she told me I miss you, come back home. Money was getting low, jobs were scarce, and I was lonely. I promised Sue I'd take the next bus back east. I didn...