Word: facedown
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...skilled radiologist to do a Mammotome on smaller breasts like mine. If I hadn't found such a radiologist, I might very well have lost a chunk of my breast for no reason. Instead I had a quick, simple procedure. Fully conscious, with only a local anesthetic, I lay facedown on an examining table with a hole in it for my left breast. Then my physician, Dr. Joshua Gross of New York's Beth Israel Hospital, a leading expert on Mammotomes, located the calcifications with a digital X ray. Through an incision no bigger than a match head, he inserted...
...rocky, windswept slope some 2,000 ft. below the summit, expedition member Conrad Anker spotted "a patch of white"--brighter, he says, than any of the snow or rocks around it. Sprawled facedown on the mountainside, with arms outstretched and hands dug into the frozen ground, lay the bleached, mummified remains of a man. It was Mallory, his body almost perfectly preserved in the thin, dry air, a safety rope around his waist, and still partly clad in remnants of his tattered cotton, wool and tweed climbing clothes, the ragged collars stitched with markings G.L. MALLORY. He had apparently tumbled...
Last week, as the boy ran into the living room, Pincham scooped him up and held him facedown across his knees. "Have you been good in school? Have you been obeying your teachers? Have you been nice to your parents?" Each question was punctuated with a tickle, so the boy's "Yes!" responses were sung in breathless hysteria. It was a lighthearted moment in a year that has been heavy with pain and injustice. As the boy dashed out of the living room, the adults quickly turned sober again. Rosetta Crawford, the boy's grandmother and family matriarch, took...
Some photographers are the poets of purple mountains' majesty. Some are the poets of the placid suburbs. Weegee is the poet of small-timers who died facedown on a city pavement at 3 a.m. in a pool of their own blood. And petty mobsters. He was great at petty mobsters--half the guys in his pictures look as if their nickname was Mugsy. As one of the most unabashed tabloid-news photographers, Weegee was also supremely good at car crashes, dazed escapees from tenement fires, transvestites being hustled out of paddy wagons, and Peeping Tom shots of lovers wrestling...
...hours later, he found himself facedown in a muddy field somewhere near the Austrian border--but how near? Soldiers marched by, dogs barked, flares lit the night. Then a voice cried out, in Hungarian, the words paralyzing him with fear: "Who is there?" Even 40 years later, as he laughs at the memory, his eyes harden; he shifts his neck under his collar. Had the smuggler betrayed him? "We thought, 'Shit, this is it.'" The man shouted again. Now at the limits of his courage, the boy finally answered: "Where are we?" "Austria," came the reply. The relief poured cool...