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Djiboutians consoled themselves, as always, by chewing on kat (pronounced, roughly, cot), a mild narcotic leaf imported by air-because it loses its kick 72 hours after picking-from Ethiopia at the staggering rate of seven tons a day. A cheekful of kat, they say, provides something of a high, makes them care less about heat and hunger, gives a general feeling of happiness, and enhances sexual potency. A local post office clerk, assessing the future with what appears to be typical lack of concern, shifts his chaw to the other cheek and says. "If things go bad, we will...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: DJIBOUTI: Ceremonies at the Gate of Sorrows | 7/4/1977 | See Source »

...course, it is conceivable that the medical establishment may be wrong about Laetrile. History is filled with examples of medical shortsightedness. In the early 1 8th century, the Rev. Cot ton Mather, of all people, was accused by Boston doctors of in terfering with the "all-wise providence of God almighty" by rec ommending inoculation against smallpox. Louis Pasteur evoked the fury of medical savants with his germ theory of disease...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Time Essay: Freedom of Choice and Apricot Pits | 6/20/1977 | See Source »

Monastic Life. On the other hand, Hesburgh for all his years at Notre Dame has continued to sleep on the same iron cot in his tiny room at nearby Corby Hall. The shelves of his outer office are stacked with cans of orange juice and Campbell soup, a sharp reminder of his monastic life. His rickety hot plate sits on the counter. It is the mark of an asceticism that Ted Hesburgh seems to impose on himself-almost as though he felt a need to reassure himself that he still is a priest. "After all these years, 1 haven...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Education: A Prince of Priests, Without a Nickel | 5/2/1977 | See Source »

After the race, Bill Berkeley sat on a cot in the basement of the Prudential and talked quietly of what the Marathon had meant to him. Berkeley was no stranger to the 26 miles and 385 yards between Hopkinton's town green and the recovery room he and hundreds of others like him were resting in--he had tried the year before in the near-intolerable heat. He didn't make it in 1976, stopping after 17 miles. So Berkeley had hoped his second shot would erase that memory. "I didn't do anything but pass people...

Author: By Jefferson M. Flanders, | Title: Two Marathon Stories | 4/19/1977 | See Source »

...shooting day," he says, "I'm often so tired you could put me into a black box. And yet, going home to my family seems a kind of intrusion. I have an urge to stay right here at the studio, sleep on a cot and stay with the project...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Cinema: A Day on the Bergmanstrasse | 2/14/1977 | See Source »

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