Word: desks
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...says. "Al's guys reach through the phone and say, 'We're helping you, and you have to help us.'" In a recent survey of Washington lobbyists, Knight-Ridder Newspapers reported that three lobbyists complained that D'Amato sought contributions from them while they had legislative business on his desk. One of the lobbyists told Knight-Ridder that a D'Amato aide called him after a meeting with the Senator to ask how it had gone. When the lobbyist said his client's business was still pending, the aide reportedly re plied, "Well, we haven't seen a contribution from...
...Antonio Gutierrez, pointed a TEC-9 pistol at Falvo as the officer arrived, responding to a report of teens with a shotgun. Witnesses insist Gutierrez had already thrown his gun over a fence when the police approached and was holding a flashlight. Falvo has been temporarily assigned to a desk...
...These young guards were with me all the time." To gain the tiniest measure of privacy, he shamed them into letting him close the door of the toilet (though they peered through a peephole) and stared at them in the mirror over a small desk until "they think I use the mirror to watch them, so they remove it." He then began writing tiny notes to record the details of what would become 66 days in captivity. Some hidden in his shoe were found; others were secreted in the center margins of a dictionary that he had managed to keep...
...quickly waved inside by Bill Clinton's longtime doorkeeper, Nancy Hernreich. But the inner sanctum was empty. "Where's the President?" asked McLarty, a senior adviser. "What do you mean?" Hernreich responded with alarm. Before the two could panic, McLarty noticed the French door near Clinton's desk was ajar. Picking up the trail, he went outside. There on the South Lawn, about 30 yds. from the Oval Office, the President of the United States was standing in shirt-sleeves and tie, his hands gripping the shaft of a putter, his eyes fixed on a small white ball...
...need to know of these women who put lipstick on before talking to a man on the phone. She tells us of her editor-in-chief, "the morning after her red-faced, old New York husband's sudden death, she came to the office and sat at her desk, a red pencil in hand. Nobody interrupted her; we knew she was holding a wake in what was more surely her home than the big apartment on upper Fifth Avenue in which, we still believed, her house keeper ironed her stockings every morning...