Word: cornfield
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...course, there was the black box of United Flight 93, which recorded 30 minutes of fearful struggle as passengers overpowered terrorist hijackers and crashed the plane into a Pennsylvania cornfield on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. United 93's passenger voice recordings were the only tapes ever to be made available to victims' family members...
When Elvis Presley died, 25,000 people gathered outside Graceland in the sweltering Memphis heat. John Lennon's murder drew millions of people to Central Park for a silent vigil. But when Buddy Holly's plane went down in an Iowa cornfield at a little past 1 a.m. on Feb. 3, 1959, there was nobody waiting for him among those swirling snowdrifts. The Lubbock, Texas singer never had a vigil. His home did not become a pilgrimage site and his family never held a memorial service for his fans. Yet with each passing decade, the myth of Buddy Holly...
...plane stayed in the sky for only a few minutes; no one is quite sure what went wrong. The best guess is that Peterson flew directly into the blizzard, lost visual reference and accidentally flew down instead of up. The four-passenger plane plowed into a nearby cornfield at over 170 mph, flipping over on itself and tossing the passengers into the air. Their bodies landed yards away from the wreckage and stayed there for ten hours as snowdrifts formed around them. Because of the weather, nobody could reach the crash site until the morning...
...whose cowboy hats, plain speaking and ease in inhabiting their sagebrush environment give them the stature of western-movie archetypes. They support the filmmaker's genius for sanctifying each moment: the milking of cows and harvesting of grain, the children being washed in a stream, a rush through a cornfield for a sweetly illicit tryst, the sobbing of a woman in the forest in the rain. When melodrama intrudes, it has the power of inevitable tragedy - and then of redemption...
Maybe it will. I don’t know, but I do know what I’ve gained: 2 a.m. on my friends’ Little Italy rooftop staring at the Chicago skyline, Fourth of July at a nearby cornfield with the fireworks visible in all directions, and lazy afternoons catching up on books, TV, and my underattended thoughts. Oh, and long days of baseball in the field where I’ve been playing it for the past 14 years...