Word: diving
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...tourist who decides for Moscow next year will risk his life, not in the dark cells of the Lubianka prison below Dzerzhinsky Square, but in the wildly undisciplined traffic above. Moscow's streets are full of big, fast automobiles, all driven apparently by Sturmovik pilots intent on dive-bombing pedestrians. Or, as a recent visitor put it: "Dodging in and out of lanes, with nary a signal and with wild shouts of profanity at other cars, the Russian driver seems to be recapturing the elation felt by the Cossack of old when he swooped down from the steppes...
...stick, trying to pull it back and get the nose up again. He braced his feet against the rudder pedals and pulled with all the strength of his 6-ft.-1-in., 220-lb. body. The stick would not budge, and the airplane's path steepened into a dive. Smith called the airport tower over his radio: "Lost hydraulic pressure. Controls frozen. Going straight in." By then his dive angle was almost vertical. A pilot in an F-100 saw him head toward the cloud deck. "Bail out!" he begged by radio. "Bail out, George...
Childish Letters. On the sixth day, Smith regained consciousness. He could see nothing, but he thought he heard laughing voices. The voices cleared into words. Thirty ten-year-old children in Aliso Elementary School had heard the thundering shock wave of his dive to the sea. Their teacher, Mrs. Pearl Phillipson, suggested that they write to him, urging him to get well. It was these childish letters, read aloud by a nurse, that he heard when he first awoke. Then, like shapes looming through fog, details of his flight came out of his memory...
...weigh 12 Ibs. The experts do not maintain that bailing out at more than the speed of sound is a safe procedure, but they are glad that at least one man has done it and lived. Now a pilot whose airplane heads for the deck in a screaming supersonic dive will know that he has a chance of survival...
...innumerable parodies are triumphs, too, all of them sketched with an ironic hand. Driving along the highway, Charlie contemplates some billboards. "A pretty girl pauses at the peak of her swan dive. . . After you pass, presumably she finishes, . . . slipping soundlessly in the frosty glass of beer beneath her." This is the pace, never strained, which Goodman maintains throughout the book...