Word: escort
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High in the Memorial Church bell tower, danger lurks. Or at least danger could lurk. That’s why one intrepid FM reporter and his trusty escort, occasional bell ringer and Harvard Planning and Real Estate employee Richard D. Campbell, suit up in safety harnesses and hard hats to climb the half a dozen ladders and scramble across the catwalk to reach the tower...
...wooden bridge shuddering under its weight. The train's handful of North Korean passengers peered down at me quizzically. A few even scrambled to the train's third, and last, car, anxious for a final glimpse of what they thought they saw: a Westerner under armed escort heading for North Korea. I waved to blank stares. But we didn't go any farther than that. Apparently by "North Korean border" my guide meant the halfway point across the Yalu, and not the border post, by now quite discernible not more than a hundred meters off. I was disappointed but also...
...funeral cortege drove north toward the Israeli settlement of Itamar to bury a resident killed by Palestinian gunmen in an ambush. Nitza Tzameret was in the third car in the procession, behind an army-jeep escort. When the vehicles approached the Palestinian village of Kafr Khalil, shots rang out. The cars halted, and the terrified mourners poured out. Tzameret and her husband lay in a ditch at the roadside as Israeli soldiers returned fire up into the olive groves. The gun battle lasted 30 minutes. Since then Tzameret has slept no more than two hours a night, fearing intruders...
DIED. JOHN AGAR, 81, Air Force sergeant, actor and, briefly, husband to Shirley Temple; of emphysema; in Burbank, Calif. Agar was 24 when a friend enlisted him in 1945 to escort Temple, then 16, to a party. The two married and three years later had a daughter, but Agar's drinking led his wife to file for divorce in 1949. He appeared with Temple in John Ford's cavalry classic Fort Apache and went on to a film career that included westerns, war films and a host of grade-B horror flicks, including Revenge of the Creature and The Brain...
...photographer had snapped a passerby without permission, locals told us angrily to get out - or else. On the main track out of the village, young men bent over the hood of a car, their sidearms showing. One played with a two-way radio that was, a Georgian police escort remarked glumly, more modern than anything his men had. A brief visit to the Gorge, about three hours drive from Tbilisi, made it clear that the area was completely out of Georgian control. The escort, from the local police headquarters, admitted that he had been in the village - the edge...