Word: depots
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...rookie of 42-the first black pitcher in the American League; of a heart attack; in Kansas City, Mo. "Do you throw that hard consistently?" asked his first manager. "No, sir," said Satchel, "I do it all the time." Paige (his nickname came from carrying satchels at a railroad depot as a child) estimated that he pitched 2,500 games in the black leagues, won 2,000, including 100 no-hitters, and in one year played 153 games, tailing on 29 consecutive days. Said St. Louis Ace Dizzy Dean, who lost a 1-0, 13-inning exhibition...
...guerrilla bases and other P.L.O. installations, attacks were made on such nonmilitary areas as Family Beach, a popular stretch of sand and surf just south of the beleaguered capital. Israel's planes hammered hard at Beirut's Sports City, a former stadium that is now a storage depot for food and supplies for Al Fatah, a commando group of the P.L.O. Two floors of the structure collapsed under fire, burying guerrillas and their families in a broken mass of reinforced concrete...
Nellie Haddock seemed to pick up the theme in her 1883 oration, "The Perils of Luxury." A niece of Nellie's was at the 100th commencement last week. Ruth Haddock, 90, drove her 1963 Dodge from her home on the south side of town near the depot up to the new school auditorium on the north side of Greenfield. She took in all the proceedings, declared them worthy of her Aunt Nellie, pointed out that there was still peril in luxury and drove back home again beneath scowling thunderheads that were bridged by a double rainbow...
...crash, I climbed off the bus, dazed and dirty from a three-day ride from Boston. The place looked equally like Dallas and Texarkana to an outsider-wide, flat roads and a dingy Trailways station; except the four cheery Oranges. Arnie and his kids, were standing outside the depot, peering anxiously at the tinted bus window. I hauled myself up from my cramped position in the back seat, marched out of the bus, and managed to knock the breath out of Arnie, Dave...
...turned into a genuine Texas belle, with blue gook on her eves and Sun-In on her hair. At 15, she practically lived in one of the family cars-the big, gleaming '57 Chevy, which awaited us at the bus depot. Arnie hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine as Liz babbled about giant Texas scorpions which apparently awaited me in the bathtub. Between the bus station and the Oranges' house in North Austin lay six miles of dry Texas land, minus the cacti and split by the freeway. The road had six lanes heavily populated with...