Word: fogged
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Runway. The eastbound trip was uneventful. While Bowling Green mangled Cal Poly 50-6, the chartered C46 flew on to ferry the Youngstown University squad to New Haven. Conn., then turned back to take Cal Poly home. At take-off time, Toledo airport was socked in solid with fog. Brent Jobe, an end and student pilot, told his friends that he thought it was crazy to take off. Head Coach Leroy Hughes talked worriedly to the copilot. But Pilot Donald Leland...
Road to War. Through all the fog of censorship and intrigue obscuring the Lavon affair, the one clear fact was that Lavon's resignation in February 1955 brought Ben-Gurion back from 15 months' retirement in the Negev to take Lavon's post. Shortly afterward, Ben-Gurion became Prime Minister, replacing Moderate Moshe Sharett, who was more susceptible to the argument that Israel must try to quiet the fears of its Arab neighbors if it is to live in peace with them. Eleven days after Ben-Gurion's return, the Israeli army carried out the massive...
...work on the program was Trade Nocturnes Pour Orchestra by Debussy. It was good to hear this "Impressionist" masterpiece treated with a clear-headed approach that brought out the work's structural solidity. This was not the fog-bound Debussy, but rather the Cartesian Debussy. The essentially rationalist reading was handled excellently by Senturia's charges...
...time last week, Richard Nixon could have been taken for legendary Joe Btfsplk, the creature out of L'il Abner who always walks under a cloud. There was his trouble on the TV debate with Kennedy. Rain dogged him from Illinois to New York to Massachusetts. Chowder fog slowed his chartered Convair while crowds waited restlessly on the ground below. Gremlins bugged up his public-address system in Long Island City and Schenectady, N.Y., and unfortunate twists crept into his off-the-cuff sallies ("It's our responsibility that we . . . get rid of the farmers" instead of "farm...
...cautiously, apparently decided he was not a Polaris sub, and steamed away. One dusk, said Chichester, "I thought I heard voices. I poked my head out of the cabin. Alongside was a freighter; people were sitting on the bridge, having evening drinks." Battered by huge waves, isolated by fog, Chichester slept only four to six hours a night, fought his loneliness by writing a 75,000-word diary, disdained a prescribed daily log (sample question: "Happy without feminine company?"). An expert navigator, Chichester accepted the risk of icebergs and storms, gambled on a northerly course along the comparatively short Great...