Word: freeporters
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...rancher Robin Van Norman drives a visitor into a verdant canyon sited down by U.S. Forest Service land in the Independence Mountains. Until gold was discovered, the Van Normans owned the rights to graze their cattle there. Now, on the very fence they built to control their herd, the Freeport-McMoRan Gold Co. has posted a big KEEP OUT sign. Waste rock from the mining operation has begun pushing toward the canyon like a moraine advancing at the prow of a glacier...
Three miles down the road is Robin Van Norman's nearest neighbor, Jim Wright. From his house Wright can gaze up at a rugged outcropping where Freeport has found a modest ore body. If the site is mined, Wright worries, what will happen to a gurgling, gushing spring that forms the headwaters of Niagara Creek, which in turn fills a large reservoir Wright uses to irrigate a wide green hay meadow...
Forget the downtown department store and the suburban shopping mall. Leave the catalogs on the coffee table and turn off the video-shopping channel. Hop into the car with a full bandolier of credit cards and head for the outback. Tucked away in Monterey, Calif.; Boaz, Ala.; Rockford, Mich.; Freeport, Me.; and a dozen odd small towns in between, scores of manufacturers' outlet stores are doing a land-office business by offering 25% to 70% savings. Along with the bargains, urban consumers enjoy a day in the country and engage in a venerable American dream -- the inalienable right to pursue...
Mike McDonough, a Lantana free-lancer, counters by recalling the night he watched an intrepid Brit scale the facade of a hotel in Freeport, the Bahamas, to bang on Howard Hughes' window. "That is the closest anyone ever came ((to Hughes))," he claims proudly. Ace Tab Photog Jimmy Leggett, a wiry Scot, remembers a "scheme to drill a hole down into Hughes' coffin to get a picture of his face." Another plot, in the '60s, involved renting a submarine to surprise Jackie Kennedy and little Caroline yachting in the Mediterranean. Leggett admits with a wink, "Neither plan made it past...
Remar's book Body Worry (you didn't think there was a book in this?) has just been shipped by Viking to bookstores at $17.95 a copy, so I convinced my editors that we should check out this ego trek at the scene of his make-over haven in Freeport. (By the way, Mom, how's the weather back home?) "Let's have dinner," said Remar when we spoke on the phone. "But how about a bike ride first?" I blanched but dutifully headed over to his modest three- bedroom house. Initial impression: Georgia gentleman, soft-spoken, slight drawl, impeccable...