Word: florida
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...small rockets, and tracking them through the atmosphere. Near Cape Canaveral, Fla., tourists are staying in motels with such names as "The Sea Missile," eating in "Missile Barbecue," holding night parties on a beach where they can watch the distant pink glow of missile night firings; in the mornings, Florida fishermen bring up bits of the missiles in their nets. "Perhaps people sense that something momentous is about to occur," wrote a U.S. missileman in Alamogordo, N. Mex., a missile town whose population has increased since 1950 from...
From outside as well as inside, the problems crowd in. One day recently Schriever's intermediate-range ballistic missile Thor misfired in Florida, rose 100 ft. and settled gently to its launching pad, where it cracked as it toppled over. The Army, which had test-fired a version of its Jupiter IRBM, was soon crowing bitterly that Thor was nothing but a no-good IPBM-interpad ballistic missile-and won a point in the bitter new interservice war (TIME, June...
This will be the real and immediate meaning of the fateful X-day that will occur at the Air Force Missile Test Center in Florida a few weeks hence when Ben Schriever's first Model-T ICBM is lifted vertically for its first test blastoff. And while this will be a great moment in military history, what will 1987 think of it? Or 1997? The missile stands just about where the airplane stood after World War I-when military planes had to compete for the taxpayer dollar with the cavalry horse. How primitive will tomorrow...
...Florida's International Twelve-Hour Grand Prix of Endurance was less than four hours old when Chicago's Bob Gold-ich, 33, took a tricky S turn just a touch too fast. His little (1.9 liters) Arnolt-Bristol sports car skidded across a taxiway at Sebring's abandoned airfield and rolled into a sideways somersault. A graduate of the dangerous melees of midget-auto racing and the father of two children, Goldich was dead of a broken neck before he reached the hospital...
...kept a grandmotherly eye on Vogue, often dropped into the office on Lexington Avenue for a quiet lunch and a worried chat about the fading numbers of ladies and gentlemen. Last month, a handsome and regal lady who was about to celebrate her 80th birthday, she slipped south to Florida for a vacation. There last week she died of a heart attack. The news reached Vogue as staffers were handing around the latest postcard from their editor emeritus: "I think of all you busy Vogueites," said the neat hand, "and envy you your full days...