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...Cologne zoo had to be put in air-conditioned boxes. A lion in a safari park near Frankfurt lumbered out of his lair and took a dip in the park's fountain, and a frazzled baby leopard at the West Berlin zoo sprang out of its crate and bit West German President Walter Scheel, tearing his jacket...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: EUROPE: Those Vaguely Sinister Skies | 8/25/1975 | See Source »

Charles Oscar Finley, owner, president, general manager and remote-control field manager of the Oakland A's. was on a typical tear. "Get this crate rolling," he ordered. Chauffeur Howard Risner nosed the sleek black Cadillac into the moving traffic and headed toward Chicago's O'Hare Airport. "Shoot the works," said Finley. Risner hit a button, and downtown Chicago echoed to the Caddie's musical horn. "Now the siren," demanded Finley. A muted wail sent other cars skittering for the curb. Finley switched on a loudspeaker hidden beneath the hood and began broadcasting a stream of chatter to startled...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Sport: Charlie Finely: Baseball's Barnum | 8/18/1975 | See Source »

...Russian at what was apparently a radio tower hid his head in a towel when he spotted an American staring at him. One of the Senator's aides opened the door of a housing trailer and found six startled Russians inside. More to the point, a gray crate that bore Cyrillic letters was identified by a Russian-speaking U.S. technician as "having to do with a missile operation...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: SOMALIA: The Russians on Africa's Horn | 7/21/1975 | See Source »

...long after he got out of the Army in 1954, E.L. (Edgar Lawrence) Doctorow sat down on a wooden crate in front of his typewriter and told his wife Helen, "This is the way we are going to survive." He had $135 to his name. Forty-eight hours later, he had $50 left and a lot of blank paper...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: The Music of Time | 7/14/1975 | See Source »

...seat for this late January performance was an orange-crate-turned-bench, squeezed against the backside of the stage left wall in a room bearing closer resemblance to a glorified furnace closet than any kind of backstage rest stop. The equal ceiling was gnarled with heating pipes, and about ten feet, back--where the room slightly used out to its end--crouched an old fat furnace, gurgling away through most of the show. Next to it stood a vaudevillian theatre mirror lined with a few dusty but brightly lit bulbs. Old pop cans, boxes, and performance notes decked the floor...

Author: By James Ulmer, | Title: Like King Tut, Only Alive | 2/13/1975 | See Source »

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