Word: cumberlandism
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...have discovered that it takes more than a bank roll to win a pennant. The club that dominates Negro baseball is not Effa's Eagles but the Homestead (Pa.) Grays, originally founded for the diversion of Carnegie Steel employes and now owned by two Homestead Negroes: Cum (for Cumberland) Posey, a member of the Board of Education, and Sonnyman (for Rufus) Jackson, a juke-box impresario. So far this season, the Grays have won 18 league games, lost only four...
Crossville simmers quietly in the scrub oak of the Cumberland Plateau, nine bumpy miles from the neat little county seat whose name it shares. In a rough rectangle, 2,400 ft. by 1,100 ft., stretches the barbed-wire stockade, two 12-ft. fences of 21 strands...
...Rangers are picked for intelligence and endurance. Like Commando recruits, about 50% of them fail the course and are sent back to their old units. The survivors fit no common pattern. Commander of the Rangers now in training is slight, friendly Major Randolph Milholland, 36, onetime cost accountant from Cumberland, Md. One of his captains, Lloyd Marr, 31, of Lamesa, Tex., trained in civilian life by working up statistics for the U.S. Treasury Department. In commando training, bulk and muscle are assets. But the training-wise instructors know they are not indispensable. A stout heart counts most...
Family Matters In a little cabin on the eastern slopes of Tennessee's Cumberland Mountains a child was born to a young married woman famous in the annals of Tennessee. Fourteen-year-old Eunice Johns, whose marriage had become a national sensation in 1937 (Husband Charlie gave her a doll for a wedding present), became the mother of a 7-lb. girl. The child's name was undisclosed. "I think Eunice wants to name it after my nephew's boy," Charlie told a visiting reporter and photographer. Asked what the boy's name was, Charlie said...
...Army engineers, interrupted by enemy fire, had labored to lay rubber pontoons, then wood crosspieces, finally steel tracks just wide enough for the 28-ton General Grants. At dusk the light tanks had crept out of the woods and skipped across the oily Cumberland River on the new pontoon bridge. When the mediums came down to cross, puncturing the dark with their exhaust flashes and red signal lights, the shore was lighted for safety's sake, making a 200-yard circle of yellow dust-fog through which turrets poked, each with its pygmy...