Word: cousin
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...events, spectators will be able to choose from smoked salmon, caviar and sliced sausages. Drinks include hot tea, vodka, or Coca-Cola and its orange-flavored cousin, Fanta, dispensed by strolling vendors through a tube from a backpack tank. (Pepsi-Cola has been available in the U.S.S.R. for six years, but Coke won the Olympic bidding.) Not to be outdone in the soda race, the Soviets have invented their own Olympic drink, Druzhba, a cranberry-apple concoction...
Fiedler seemed destined to be a musician. His grandsires were musicians in Europe (Fiedler is German for fiddler), and his father, two uncles and a first cousin were all members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Fiedler joined the orchestra in 1915 as a violinist. Eager to conduct, the suave young maestro founded a series of free outdoor Esplanade concerts that are now a Boston tradition. In 1930 he was named conductor of the Boston Pops, the symphony's spring series, and proudly held that position for half a century...
...title he earned last week is one that Joe Clark has coveted since his boyhood days in High River, Alta., when, recalled a cousin, "he really did say that he wanted to be Prime Minister. We used to kid him a lot about it." The shy, ungainly son of a local newspaper editor and his schoolteacher wife, Clark was an average student who did well in English and public speaking. He became a member of the campus Tory club while earning a B. A. in history at the University of Alberta, and studied law for a year before realizing...
English class, "The Art of Eating Spaghetti." He barely remembers it and no copy has survived. Young Baker heard family stories of his mother's cousin, Edwin James, who was managing editor of the New York Times from 1932 to 1951, and understood the moral: words were a way out. He won a competitive scholarship to Johns Hopkins in 1942 and ambled through his first year with nonchalance...
Seven houses of varying lack of distinction constituted the community. A dirt road meandered off toward the mountain where a bootleg still supplied whisky to the men of the countryside, and another dirt road ran to the creek. My cousin Kenneth and I would sit on the bank and fish with earthworms. One day we killed a copperhead which was basking on a rock near by. That was unusual...