Word: datedly
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Such-&-Such a Date. Last Oct. 4, Defense Secretary-designate Neil McElroy, touring U.S. military bases before taking office, was dining in the officers' club at Huntsville when Wernher von Braun was called from the table to the telephone. Von Braun returned red-faced: he had just been told that the Russians had launched Sputnik I. Next morning Von Braun urged McElroy to put Jupiter-C into the satellite contest. During the next few weeks, McElroy received more than 100 ideas from the services for putting a U.S. satellite into space. Finally, on Nov. 8, McElroy announced his decision...
That order was passed on to General Medaris in what Medaris calls "good old-fashioned military terminology, 'You will on or about such-and-such a date do so-and so.' It just delighted my soul." Such-and-such a date turned out to be Friday, Jan. 31, 1958, when the U.S. Army missile team, which had just kind of refused to die, launched the first U.S. satellite...
...nine labs, oversees some 3,000 scientists and technicians, brings his lunch in a briefcase and eats off a bookcase while reading papers. When Huntsville's existence was threatened by the Defense Department, it was Von Braun who lobbied with Congressmen, accepted every interview and television date he could get, and kept the Army's team from falling apart. Von Braun eloquently describes the meaning of space travel: "It will free man from his remaining chains, the chains of gravity which still tie him to this planet. It will open to him the gates of heaven...
Home from the Capitol. It was early evening when.Chuck's car got stuck in the mud on a road leading to Meyer's farm. Up drove a second Ford; Bennet High School Junior Class President Robert Jensen, 17, was out on an early school-night date with Classmate Carol King, 16. They stopped to help. Starkweather shot both through the head with his .22 rifle, pushed their blue-jeaned bodies into an abandoned storm cellar near by. He drove up to Meyer's house, killed him with one .410-gauge shotgun blast, stuffed the body...
...Hartack, unlike many of his colleagues, weight is never a problem. He eats outlandish combinations of foods?potato chips, pickles and ice cream, for example; yet he seldom needs to glance at a jockey's sweatbox. Nor does he need much sleep; no matter how late he bids his date good night, he sits up for an hour or two examining the past-performance charts to prepare himself for the next day in the saddle...