Word: crashingly
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...loudspeaker crackled in the crisp mountain air: "The next runner will be Bibbia." On a Swiss hilltop high above St. Moritz, Nino Bibbia, 35, a brawny Italian grocer, buckled on his crash helmet and goggles, carefully checked the heavy leather pads on his knees and elbows. He adjusted steel shields that guarded the back of each hand, then he threw himself onto a sled no bigger (3½ ft.) than a youngster's Flexible Flyer...
...fact, some such move has long been in the offing. Abstractionist Willem de Kooning first tried it with his grotesque woman images (TIME, April 4, 1953), only to relapse into abstraction. Drip Originator Jackson Pollock was himself struggling with half-glimpsed totem images before his death in an auto crash last August. Younger painters are now pulling and punching areas of pigment on their canvases to achieve a new-found "landscape look" that has been dubbed abstract impressionism...
Beloved Doc. The gravest medical emergencies in the islands usually find amphibious Dr. Heath close at hand. At Eastsound, Heath saw a light airplane crash with two occupants, hurried to the scene to give lifesaving aid to the single survivor. When a tree fell on an Orcas Island logger, Heath lugged the injured man piggyback to a Coast Guard ambulance plane. Another emergency call summoned Heath to a yacht to treat a woman who was bleeding dangerously from a severed artery in her thumb. Heath popped a rubber band around the thumb for a tourniquet, had an assistant sterilize instruments...
Having just seen Baby Doll, I couldn't resist dropping over to view Carroll Baker, this year's Pudding Plum. Of course they threw me out when I tried to crash, but someone told me Carroll was actually over in the Yard being given the old tour treatment. Sure enough, a black bomb half as long as University Hall was cruising lethally along frosh row, and when I ran up and peeked in a pair of soft blue eyes met mine...
...slacks retrieved their children, led them home through a 20-block area strewn with hunks of fallen metal, fragments of Fiberglas insulation, oxygen tanks. Though wreckage had pierced walls and roofs, no one outside the Junior High schoolyard was seriously hurt. From Los Angeles in the wake of the crash came angry demands for federal controls. But in the San Fernando Valley, anger was tempered by sorrow, and death had wiped magic from the air and sparkling sun. Gathering her child to her tightly, a mother said sadly: "Living here will never be the same again. Never...